A Soldier's Promise [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Rebecca Joyce

  Sitting there listening to the drama unfold, he finished the last of his soda and lay down on the ground, placing his rifle in its comfortable place. As he put his shoulder up against the butt of the weapon, he set his scope. He could see the intruder moving around inside the house. His heat signature was blazing loudly. He found another heat signature sitting on the floor not moving and assumed it was the woman. Scanning the house, he soon found the third small heat signature right above the man walking erratically. The kid must be up in the attic, and he prayed the kid had enough sense to stay put on one of the rafter beams. Making another adjustment to his sight, and laying down flat, he heard the crash.

  Quickly looking back through the scope, he cursed as he saw the intruder grab the kid and use him as a shield. He could hear the mother screaming, when his phone vibrated.

  He picked up his phone and read the text. Your turn.

  Mason Harold Armstrong shook his head, looked through his scope, and lightly pulled the trigger.

  Not waiting for confirmation, Mason quietly removed the scope and placed his weapon back in his soft case. Getting to his feet, he flung the camouflage case over his shoulder and silently walked back to his truck. He didn’t bother to answer the ringing phone in his pants or the text messages that followed. He knew they were from the sheriff, and he knew what the sheriff wanted. Too bad, because the sheriff was just going to have to wait.

  He wasn’t in the mood. He never was after taking a life. He just needed some alone time to gather his thoughts and let it all go.

  Climbing into his truck, he didn’t bother turning on the radio.

  He just drove home in silence.

  * * * *

  The day was going to be a hot one. Already over eighty degrees, Mason walked out onto his front porch with a cup of coffee in his hand to enjoy the beautiful Texas sunrise. This time of morning was his favorite time of day. Everything fresh, clean, and new, but mainly it was a day with no mistakes.

  Too bad Mason couldn’t say that today.

  He had gotten home not even an hour ago. He’d showered, eaten his cold TV dinner, and made a fresh pot of coffee.

  It was Monday, and Mondays he worked with his brother. He was due out at the R & R by nine, to help his brother Michael and his wife, Rachael, with breaking in some new horses. Mainly on Mondays, he listened to Michael trying to talk him into getting a real job, while Rachael talked at length about finding someone he could spend his life with so he wasn’t so alone.

  Sitting in the lone chair, Mason put his feet up on the rail and took a swig of coffee, sighing as the hot brew burnt its way down his throat.

  Mason liked his life now. He did what he wanted, reported to no one, and for the first time in a long time he didn’t have to worry about someone shooting him in the back.

  Life was good. That was until he saw the Cedar Creek Sheriff’s car pull into his drive.

  Fuck!

  He watched as the tall, lanky man with dirty blond hair got out of his squad car and slowly swaggered over to him.

  “Armstrong,” the sheriff said by way of good morning. There was no love between the two of them. They each tolerated each other as much as one would tolerate a prostate exam.

  “Wilson,” Mason huffed as he took another swig of his coffee. When Jimmy didn’t start chattering like a little schoolgirl right away, Mason looked away.

  Here we go again.

  “Just ask, will ya? I don’t have all day,” Mason said, annoyed already.

  “I need another favor, Armstrong.”

  I just bet you do.

  “And just what might that be?”

  “I need to deputize you…permanently,” Jimmy said, leaning against the porch railing and fiddling with his hat in his hands. Mason just looked at him.

  Opie, have you lost your fuckin’ mind?

  “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Damn it, Armstrong, now come on.” Jimmy cursed, slapping his hat against his leg.

  * * * *

  Jimmy Wilson had met some stubborn people in his life, but Mason Armstrong beat all. Ever since he had moved here, he had been nothing more than a thorn in his side, and after last night, he figured it would be better to have him on his side of the law than against it. The only problem was trying to figure out just how he was going to get this stubborn mule to accept the job.

  “Sorry, Jimmy. I happen to like my life problem free.” Mason grinned. Jimmy thought he was looking at the devil himself for a minute, but decided it was not the right time to go throwing insults at the man.

  “How about…I only call on you when I need you?” he offered.

  Jimmy stared at Mason, who just looked at him as if he was an idiot, and part of Jimmy believed he was completely certifiable for even thinking about offering the recluse a job, but he did have his skills.

  “You mean when you need me to shoot someone.”

  “Damn it, Armstrong, that’s not what I meant and you know it.” Frustrated, Jimmy knew he wasn’t getting anywhere. He put his hat back on his head and walked back to his truck. Deciding it was best to let it go for now, he figured to try again when Mason was more agreeable, like when he was drunk and sitting in his jail cell.

  Bribery always works.

  * * * *

  Annabelle made her way through the old worn-down house, looking at all the rooms. She realized that what the entire house needed was some special attention—a little care, tenderness, and a lot of love. This was definitely a step up from the motel they were living in at the moment, and for her and her son this was just what they were looking for—a new beginning.

  Taking the kindergarten teaching position at Cedar Creek Elementary had been a blessing. Working several odd jobs that required she work nights just to provide for her son had taken its toll on her. She was tired. She wanted a steady job, a nice house, and time alone without worrying if she was going to be able to afford rent or, worse, food for the week.

  For the last ten years, she had taken one crap job after another, just to put food on the table and pay the medical bills. Even while working every odd job she could find in the New York City area, she somehow had managed to find the time to get her teaching degree from some online school out in Arizona. So when that degree had come in the mail, she had immediately started putting in for teaching positions. It took almost four months before she received her one and only response, from a judge in Cedar Creek, Texas, offering her a full-time position with benefits.

  Growing up as the daughter of a single parent, she was used to impoverished conditions, but she knew from her mother that any place could be fixed, as long as you had time, a little patience, and a lot of creativity. The problem with creativity was, sometimes it could cost money, money she didn’t have. But she had two good hands and the time to see this through.

  As a single mom of a special-needs child, patience was a must. She always took care of her son, trying to give him the best of everything, even if that meant she had to do without, and this time was going to be no different.

  She knew the house needed work, but she was willing to do it.

  Beggars can’t be choosers, she thought as she walked around looking at all the rooms. The house was small but perfect. With its little imperfections, she took inventory of what was going to be needed to make this place livable. Her son’s bedroom was her first priority, and she would have to see to that personally.

  The kitchen was a total gut job, so she was told. Everything was outdated, and she suspected the wiring wasn’t up to code either. The floors were in desperate need of stripping and finishing, and the walls needed a clean coat of paint. She prayed she wouldn’t have to call a plumber and electrician, but walking around, she figured this was something that she could handle herself.

  She returned to the living room where the local realtor, Kelly Wilson, stood.

  She was a nice, perky woman with a warm laugh. She sure did love to talk, which was making Annabelle nervous, but she figured it went with the job. However,
just being around the woman was a little unnerving. After her son’s diagnosis, people that she considered friends showed their true colors and no longer wanted anything to do with her. It was heart breaking at first, but after everything began to settle down, she learned to rely on herself. Making friends after that became hard, and living alone with just her son she became accustomed to the quietness. So, listening to the realtor go on and on, was something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She was a friendly woman, chatting away about her husband and children.

  Annabelle had to give it to the lady though, she was a true chatterbox, and after an hour with her, she thought the woman was incapable of shutting up. It unnerved her that she was so willing to speak openly and freely of her family and her life, not caring it was to a total stranger. Living in New York for the last ten years, she had gotten used to keeping her private life private, and anything personal was kept under lock and key. Annabelle wondered if the woman had ever heard of the phrase TMI.

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Great!” Kelly smiled, taking out her cell. “I will draw up the paperwork when I get back to my office, and in the meantime, here are the keys. I’m calling Fred over at Water and Electric to have him turn everything on.”

  Annabelle stood there in shock as she held the keys to the house in her hand. Never in her life had she thought she would be holding keys to her own house. It was a dream, just a fanciful, wonderful, glorious dream.

  “Uh huh,” she muttered as she felt her eyes begin to water.

  “Ms. Marcus, are you okay?” Kelly asked worriedly.

  “You just gave me the keys. I haven’t even been to the bank yet, and still you gave me the keys. Why?”

  “Well, you are the new elementary school teacher, right? I mean, I assumed when Judge Clark called me and said to have the house ready, it was for you.”

  “I am. I mean, yes. I’m the new teacher. But I don’t understand,” Annabelle replied as tears began falling down her face. This was all too much. She assumed she would have to purchase the place, and she was prepared for that. But never in her mind did she assume the town would provide a house for her.

  “Aw, sweetie, this house belongs to the judge. When he found out that you had a son, he tried to make it available for you. He said it’s not much, but you can fix it up any way you like. I thought he told you.” Kelly smiled, trying to soothe her.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Well, you best stop your crying ’cause the judge wants you to have it. He said this place has been empty for years. He has refused to tear it down so cattle can graze on the land. But when you accepted the job, he wanted you and your son to live here. He said this house needs a family in it.”

  “The judge is a nice man,” Annabelle replied, wiping her eyes remembering meeting him for the first time two days ago.

  “Yeah…you keep thinking that, if it makes you feel better, but the rest of us know the truth.” Kelly laughed and dialed another number into her cell.

  Listening to Kelly talk on her phone, Annabelle walked out onto the porch into the hot Texas sun and looked at her new black pickup truck.

  She had planned to drive from New York to Cedar Creek. After paying over six hundred dollars to make sure her Volkswagen station wagon was in good working order, she packed everything she and her son were going to need and headed out for the long three-day drive. She had barely made it to the Texas state line when her wagon started smoking so badly she had to pull over.

  Stuck out in the middle of nowhere, she’d fumed over her horrible luck. If it hadn’t been for a sheriff passing by, she didn’t know how long she would have been stuck out there. He had called in for a tow truck and given her and her son a lift into the nearest town.

  A “town” was really not what she would have called that place, but the people were genuinely happy to help. It took some doing, and thanks to the nice mechanic who offered to buy her old car for parts, she’d taken what little money she had and purchased her first pickup truck. Going with the suggestion of the mechanic, she relied heavily on his knowledge that a truck was better to have if she got stuck in the mud around these parts. It wasn’t long before she had transferred everything from one vehicle to the next, loaded up her son, and continued on to the small town of Cedar Creek.

  Situated between hills and dust, Cedar Creek was a true cattle town. The moment she’d gotten out of her new truck she could smell the animals. Being used to smog and gas fumes, she would have thought nothing smelled worse, but she was wrong.

  She was told that the small town had most of the usual amenities, but once she had found a room for her and her son at the only motel in the area, she had realized this place was more like a small hole in the wall. Realizing she was being judgmental, she had chided herself that she shouldn’t be picky. She had closed her eyes, taken a deep breath, and decided to open her eyes and welcome her new life with open arms.

  What she saw had amazed her.

  Children were out riding their bikes as townsfolk went about their business. Stores were opening up, people saying good morning and waving hi. The little town of Cedar Creek wasn’t much, but it was beautiful. Large oak trees lined the street. Flowerpots filled with honeysuckles and poppies sat on street corners. The American flag blew softly in the breeze over many of the town shops. And it was clean. Really clean!

  There were no sounds of honking horns, yelling pedestrians, crowed streets. Gone were the smells of street vendors, smoke, and moldy rain. What she had now was fresh air and space—space to move around, space her son could play in without the fear of a drive-by shooting or abduction. This was her new life, and she embraced it, with open arms.

  This was a new start for her and her son, something they would never have if she had stayed in New York. Looking around, she found many perks to living in a small town, and she liked what she saw.

  Definitely off the beaten path, she was really out of her element. Spending the night in a room with only one bed, she had made do. The next morning, she and her son had walked the two blocks and explored their new town, taking in every little bit it offered. She had begun to relax and just go with the flow.

  Looking out over the large yard, she smiled at the atrocity that was now her new mode of transportation. It was a large black Dodge Ram. Never in her whole life did she ever think she would own, let alone drive, a truck. It took some getting used to, but she was managing. She was actually beginning to like the darn thing, other than the fact that she literally had to jump into it. But she had to admit, the salesman was right. It was the perfect vehicle for this area and it never seemed to fail at getting around on the back roads, and luckily she had managed to get a good trade.

  “Okay, Fred said give him ten minutes and the water and power would be on. I have written down the name of our local handyman. He’s good—a little loud but very efficient—and he doesn’t charge too much. The judge said if you like him, and he can do the job, he wants you to send him all the bills. Judge said it’s only fair since he kinda dumped this place on you. So if you don’t need me for anything else, I will leave you to get settled. I will come by when the paperwork is ready. Welcome to Cedar Creek.” She smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot, what name should I put down on the paperwork?”

  “Annabelle Nicole Marcus.”

  “What a pretty name.” She watched as Kelly jotted her name down.

  “Thank you.”

  “Okay, Annabelle. Here is my number if you need anything.” Kelly smiled. She watched as the perky redhead left, and for some reason she felt for the first time in her life that she had finally found a place to call home.

  Grabbing a couple of boxes out of the bed of the truck, she turned and smiled. “I’m home.”

  Three months. She had three months to get everything settled and organized. Making her mental list, she began checking off items. Soon all she had left to do was find a pediatrician, a church, and a summer activity for Andrew, finish the house, and get ready for the upcoming school
year. Not a lot of time, but she could do it. But first, she needed to fix the house up.

  Finding Andrew a doctor was easy, since there was only one in the town.

  Dr. Lewis Cook was a kind man who had been the town’s doctor for over twenty years now, so she was told. In his mid-to-late fifties, he was a stout man, with silver hair and kind eyes. Married for close to thirty years, he was the father of three and the grandfather to two young boys around Andrew’s age. Though he told her he wasn’t up to date on all the services and treatments for Andrew, he assured her that he would do his homework and together they would map out the best course of action that suited Andrew’s needs.

  Annabelle was happy with that, and when Andrew seemed to like the doctor, she felt he would do. It was hard having a child with autism, especially when their sensory capability was a hindrance at times. Some days when Andrew didn’t like being touched, he just wanted to be left alone in his room. Then there were the days that his senses were on overload and he would yell, scream, or hit, but those were very rare. She knew the reason for these overloads was because Andrew had a hard time expressing himself. His mind was full of thoughts, feelings, and ideas, which sometimes became too much for him, and the only way he knew how to calm his mind was to act out. Though she never thought of him as “acting out.” He was just simply being Andrew.

  It all boiled down to how much stimulation he received the day before. So far so good, as Andrew seemed to be stepping out of his comfort zone and taking everything in stride. He was amazed with the backyard and spent hours outside just wondering around, looking through the grass and adventuring. Well, that’s what she called it, but Andrew said he was investigating. So investigating it was.