Standing His Ground: Greer (Porter Brothers Trilogy Book 2)

by Jamie Begley

  Standing His Ground: Greer

  Porter Brothers Trilogy, #2

  Jamie Begley

  Contents

  Map of Treepoint, Kentucky

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Kristen McLean

  Changing The Earl’s Mind

  1. Yorkshire 1826

  Chapter 2

  Jamie Begley

  Rider’s Revenge

  Prologue

  Young Ink Press Publication

  YoungInkPress.com

  Copyright © 2017 by Jamie Begley

  Edited by C&D Editing &

  Diamond in the Rough Editing

  Cover Art by Young Ink Press

  Map by C&D Editing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this ebook are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, multiple partners, violence, drugs, and explicit language offends you.

  Connect with Jamie,

  JamieBegley@ymail.com

  www.facebook.com/AuthorJamieBegley

  www.JamieBegley.net

  Map of Treepoint, Kentucky

  Prologue

  The small church hidden away in the mountains was filled to capacity. The parishioners had traveled from several surrounding counties to visit the church Pastor Saul had chosen for the yearly revival of the branching sister churches who shared the same faith he had been forced to listen to every Sunday, because his grandmother had made him attend, despite the never-ending pleas he made to his parents not to make him go.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here!” Greer whisper-hissed as he saw Pastor Saul nod his head toward one of the congregation members to open a glass case. The follower then took out a snake that was furiously twitching its tail. The sound of the rattler had some in the front row gasping in religious fervor that had been built by the pastor’s sermon.

  “Shut your mouth,” his granny hissed from the side of her mouth. “They’ll throw us out if they hear you.”

  “Good!” Greer hissed back mutinously. He tugged on her arm, trying to get her to leave the pew so they could sneak out the door at the back of the church.

  Turning his head, he saw one of the deacons who was as old as dirt slide a bar across the door to trap the unbelievers inside.

  His granny put a hand over her heart, her eyes widening fearfully as the snake tried to squirm away from the handler’s hold.

  Greer’s hand tightened on her arm. Usually, when he was this scared, he had his father or his brother, Tate, nearby to give him courage. With only his grandmother at his side, surrounded by religious fanatics who had lost their ever-loving minds, it was hard not to run outside screaming where his father was waiting.

  The thought of his father calling him a pussy had him sitting in place.

  She jerked away from his touch. “Don’t.”

  “You’re going to have a heart attack if we don’t get out of here.” His ten-year-old voice had no effect on her.

  “I told you to save your strength. Don’t use your power on me. I’m old and ready to meet my maker. That sweet child is going to need all your help.” She twisted on the pew so she could face him. “Get ready,” she warned softly.

  As the parishioners began to form a circle around the pastor’s daughter, Greer reluctantly stood up to help his grandmother to her feet.

  “Remember, don’t let anyone see what you’re doing,” she whispered as they walked toward the front of the church. “Pretend like I told you to do.”

  Greer’s stomach clenched nervously as he followed the suggestions she had drilled into his head for the last couple of months.

  Two years ago, when she had taught him what to do, he had thought it was a game. Then, the first time she had brought him to one of Saul’s revivals, he had learned what she had expected of him.

  The parishioners began chanting and dancing around the little girl whose eyes were widened in horror. She was frozen as two men stood by her side, holding her in place so she couldn’t run. The grown men were enough to scare her, while the snake that was brought closer was every child’s nightmare, not leaving her with a chance to escape.

  “Do not turn away from the serpent. The Holy Spirit is with us today,” Saul intoned in a monotone voice as he took his daughter’s arm, making her take the twitching snake into her trembling hand. “Beth is not afraid, nor should you be.” Saul then began chanting unintelligible words as the snake grew angrier.

  His grandmother nudged his side, reminding him to play along. Reluctantly, his feet began shuffling as if he were dancing, as the other parishioners were doing.

  A loud yell from the back of the church had Greer turning to see Cash trying to fight several men in the aisle as he tried to reach Beth.

  “Stop it!”

  His yells were ignored, the church followers not distracted from the self-induced trance that fed their cruel eagerness to see anyone but themselves at the snake’s mercy.

  Cash’s struggles knocked off the camera the pastor had set up to record the revival.

  “Make the unbeliever leave. We don’t want him here!” Saul shouted, the gibberish he had been chanting disappearing.

  “Let’s go.” Greer erratically danced closer to his grandmother, wanting to seize the opportunity to leave.

  Sadly, she nodded her head toward Beth.

  Turning back toward the front of the church, he saw the snake’s fangs flash out, sinking its glistening teeth into the little girl’s arm. He nearly tripped over his own feet.

  For the last two years, he had tried to avoid the sickening sight of the pain-filled expression that came over her childlike features.

  “Now, Greer, now!” his grandmother whispered frantically, pushing him toward Beth as she dropped to her knees.

  The snake handler quickly stepped forward to take the snake away, while the parishioners began dancing even more frantically now, chanting their own gibberish.

  He began making up words as he purposely fell to her side, covering the dots of blood on her arm. Then his mind went blank as she stared up at him, terror-stricken.

  Other church members touched her as they began praying. Greer ignor
ed them, searching for the spirits that were never far from his side.

  “Help me!” he screamed in his head, wanting to shout it out loud, yet knowing it would only get him removed from her side. “Help me heal Beth.”

  Gathering his thoughts, he pleaded for the spirits of his ancestors’ intervention, feeling them fill his hands with their healing warmth that slipped from him into Beth. In his mind’s eye, he saw them trying to drive out the poison that had been injected into her arm.

  As he felt the spirits work, he kept his concentration on Beth. When he felt Saul try to move him away, he shouted his gibberish louder, and Saul removed his hand as if he had been stung with the same fiery venom that Beth had experienced.

  Greer hated the pastor. What kind of man would do this to his own daughter?

  His wife, who was just as fanatical, was dancing as if joyous, while her daughter lay dying. The only one who had any sense was her sister, Lily, who laid Beth’s head on her lap. Her violet eyes met his, tears rolling down her cheeks as she prayed for God’s help.

  When he started to feel dizzy, he felt Beth start to slip away from him. The venom was much stronger than his body could handle. The spirits were more than he could channel.

  Then he felt a frail hand touch his back.

  “Help this child.” His grandmother sank down beside him, giving him the strength to straighten and drive the venom away from Beth’s heart. His hand tightened on Beth’s wound.

  Looking down moments later, he hastily moved his hand, seeing the bitemarks weeping drops of cloudy liquid. Greer used the bottom of his suit jacket to discreetly wipe it away.

  “Thank you,” he managed to croak out as he fell into his granny’s side.

  She scooted them away from the parishioners who were praying over Beth, asking Greer, “You okay?”

  He nodded, managing to lower himself onto the pew closest to them. Then Greer helped his grandmother sit beside him.

  “Can we go now?” he asked in hoarse voice.

  “Give me a minute.”

  They sat quietly. Greer had to keep himself from screaming at the parishioners who were under Pastor Saul’s spell, unable to believe how they could be fooled into believing the man was a prophet. He was just a kid, and he could see that the man was as crazy as the coon dog his father had to put down when it tried to bite his baby sister.

  “I’m ready.”

  Greer shakily helped his grandmother to stand.

  As they walked toward the door, he expected to be stopped by the two members of the congregation who blocked the door.

  “I need some air.”

  His grandmother’s ashen face had one of the men stepping to the side, while the other removed the bar blocking the door.

  “You okay, Ada?”

  Greer recognized one of the men as someone who would occasionally come over to buy a jar of moonshine from his father.

  “Yes, my old body can’t handle all the jumping around like it used to.”

  “Greer, you better take your granny on home. Your pa won’t be happy if she overdoes it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Greer muttered, steering his grandmother out the door.

  Neither spoke as they climbed into the back of his pa’s old Ford.

  His father put his arm over the front seat to stare at them. His lips thinned as he then faced forward, flicking his cigarette out the window before rolling it up. “How was the revival?”

  The interior of the car was dark. Greer shivered in the backseat, breaking out in a cold sweat. He manfully tried to appear expressionless, knowing his father didn’t want to hear any belly aching. No, a man was expected to be strong, unless it was serious enough to go to the hospital. Even then, you weren’t supposed to show any pain.

  “Turn up the heat.” His grandmother put her arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her side.

  Greer moved away, not wanting his father to see her mollycoddling him.

  “I’m going to throw up,” Greer managed to get out as the bile from his stomach began to burn a path up his throat.

  His father swerved, pulling the car to the side of the road. As soon as the car was brought to a stop, Greer jumped out and threw up in the weeds beside the road.

  He could hear his father cursing from inside the car as his grandmother rolled down the window to check on him.

  “I’m not letting Greer go anymore. Next year, I’ll just put a bullet in that pastor and solve Beth and Lily’s problems myself,” his father threatened.

  “No, you’re not. You’re not going to damn your eternal soul because of Saul Cornett.” His grandmother’s fragile voice could be heard over his father’s threats. “God will take care of that man without you leaving your family unable to fend for themselves.”

  “When? After that kid is dead and buried?” his father snarled, getting out of the car.

  Greer saw the car shake with the force of the slamming door and stood up straight as his father came to stand next to him. He could see the angry breaths that were coming out of his nostrils in the frigid air.

  “You okay, boy?”

  Greer nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  His father released a long, drawn-out sigh. “Boy, you need to puke, puke. I don’t expect you to swallow it back.”

  Greer retched, releasing another bout of vomit. When he finished, his pa reached into his jeans pocket to pull out a handkerchief, giving it to him. He wiped his mouth then shoved the handkerchief inside his suit jacket. Then Greer started to go back to the car.

  “You manage to help Beth?” His father’s question stopped him.

  “Yes, sir.” Greer then asked, “Why does her pa always try to hurt her?”

  His father stared down at him intently. “Because she’s weak and there isn’t anyone who wants to stop him.”

  “Lily is younger and weaker than Beth, but he doesn’t put that snake near her.”

  “Something keeps him feared from doing so, or he would.”

  “God?”

  His father snorted. “It isn’t God who has him afraid. I don’t know who, but he watches over her like the Devil himself will come after him if he does any damage to that adopted daughter of his.”

  “You could help Beth if you wanted to.” Greer’s courage disappeared at the look that entered his father’s eyes.

  “Other than killing the bastard, what do you suggest I do? That lazy-assed sheriff was the one who let you and Grandma out the door,” his father spat out. “I have four kids, your ma, and your grandma to protect. I sashay into the sheriff’s office, complaining how the holier-than-thou pastor is treating his daughter, I would be behind bars before I could get the words out of my mouth. I do what I can by letting my son go into that church, despite my own beliefs that it’s a bunch of horseshit.”

  Greer’s nose started running from the cold air.

  “Wipe your snot.”

  He hastily reached for the handkerchief, wiping his runny nose as he took a step back from his father.

  “Your dick isn’t big enough yet to question me. I don’t have to explain a fucking thing to you.” His hand landed on Greer’s shoulder, pulling him up onto his toes in his new Sunday shoes.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His father shook him, then released him at his grandmother’s cry from inside the car. Greer managed to catch his footing when he was flung against the side of the car.

  “I’ve been letting you spend too much time with your grandma lately. From now on, your ass is out of bed working with me at first light. When you’re the one putting food on the table, you’ll see how hard it is.”

  He jerked his head toward the road that led back to the church. “Most of the town is in that church. Those God-fearing assholes have no problem driving to my home for their weed or their booze. That’s what puts food on our table. That’s what puts shoes on you and your brothers’ and sister’s feet. It’s what pays for your granny’s medicine! Do you think a dime of their money would go into my pocket if I pissed them off? Boy, yo
u need to learn one lesson right now—you want to help those girls, walk your ass back up that hill and make them listen.”

  Greer stood still, knowing they would feed his ass to the snakes.

  “No? Until you’re able to stand your ground and ready to take anyone out who tries to get past you, don’t think you’re a better man than me. You got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His father gave a ragged sigh, and Greer steeled himself not to flinch as his father moved toward him. Placing his hands on his shoulders, he dragged him close and gave him a bear hug.

  “Beth and Lily will be fine. They won’t be kids forever. They’ll survive.”

  Greer knew his father wasn’t as heartless as he sounded. Living in the mountains meant only the strong survived. It was the weak who didn’t last long in their way of life.

  “What about Pastor Saul?” Greer saw the lights faintly from the church shining in the darkness.

  “That son of a bitch? That bastard has his day coming. You can’t twist the Lord’s words and not expect it to kick you in the ass. One day, he’ll get exactly what he deserves. Saul will reap what he sowed.”

  His pa was right; Beth and Lily would survive, and so would he. The spirits had told him what to look for. Their whispers promised a future where he had plenty to eat, where he wouldn’t be so scared of the beatings his pa gave him, and where there was a love like his ma had talked about in her books. All he had to do was wait for their sign.

  Greer stared at the blanket of snow covering the ground and the muddy road that spoiled its beauty, like someone had taken a postcard, crumpled it, and walked all over it, marring it with their touch.

  The sign he was looking for was nowhere around. A daisy couldn’t bloom in winter.

  1

  Kentuckygirl: Want to chat?

  Sharpshooter: Sure. What’s up, Kentuckygirl?

  Kentuckygirl: Nothing. I was bored and just looking for someone to talk to.

  Sharpshooter: Why don’t you have a picture on your account?