She drove slow, listening to the directions I could give. I passed in and out of consciousness, as the fever she’d stopped treating hit hard.
I lost all sense of time and place. I could discern voices, cold things placed on my body, needles, and for the second time, I slid into the black void.
It was the familiar sound of beeping, and the massive weight on my chest that woke me. A hand held mine, and some TV show played in the background.
I must have moved, because Jillian was standing next to me, hands moving over my face and body, checking my pulse, and talking. I couldn’t understand her words, everything blurry and vague.
“Surgery … shattered … lucky … in pain … sleep,” her voice cut in and out. A hand swept across my brow, cool and soft. Comforting.
In and out, in and out. I couldn’t seem to stabilize my consciousness. Faces faded in and out, along with voices, orders, and the feel of people constantly touching me.
I fell into the past, standing at the big window of the bedroom window in Laramie. Watching Karen laugh as Five Alarm grabbed her hat and stiffly trotted circles around her, the hat flopping. A blur of colors, and late elementary school, racing Jillian in the recess field, the little dances as she won. The feel of bark beneath my palms as we climbed the big oak tree in her front yard, giggling, and sitting on a branch talking about things important to ten-year-olds. The day I watched her waving from the back of her dad’s big SUV, as they left Dillon, Montana for Alabama, a mysterious state without mountains or snow.
“Come on, Squirrel, you have to come back,” her voice interjected in a memory of our first awkward school dance.
“But we love this song,” I mumbled, wondering why she didn’t want to dance. I was the bumbling fool on the floor. “And you know they need gossip, so dance with me.”
“I’ll dance later, right now, you have to wake up.”
“I’m awake. There’s Jesse Harck, he’ll ask you to dance instead.” Why was she resisting? We always danced so Jesse would leave her alone.
She chuckled. “One dance, Squirrel. Just the one.”
The song played in the background, and for the first time, I knew what I was doing. She whispered in my ear, arms around my neck, giggling at the look of frustration on Jesse’s long face.
The music stopped, and I opened my eyes. The sky blue walls were disorienting, but leaning over me was Jillian, her hair in a bun, wearing a white lab coat, the yellow of old bruises on her cheek and eyes not taking from her beauty.
“There’s my favorite brown eyes. Do you know where you are, Aiden?” her voice brisk.
Everything was out of focus, and I was exhausted. I shook my head, unable to answer.
“We’re in Butte. I found something interesting in your truck, Aiden.” She looked around the room, and turned to me, whispering, “Why do you have so many identities?”
I couldn’t tell her. I needed to. I wanted to, but she was in a lot of trouble already. She grabbed my hand, and I squeezed.
“Okay. But one day, you’ll have to explain. I have you admitted under John Martin, can you remember that?”
I gave a weak nod.
She straightened as a nurse walked in. I had the impression of brown hair and a trim figure, a lot of economical movements. Jillian spoke in hushed tones, and I fought the impulse to go back to sleep.
When she returned, I looked at the small pitcher on the stand next to the bed. She nodded, picked it up and left.
I stared at the walls. I couldn’t stay in Butte for too long. By now every law enforcement agency in Montana, and probably beyond, were looking for me. I still had contacts, but it wasn’t a situation to drag them into. Going to Laramie was out of the question. Returning to my ranch stupid. Damn it, now what? was the only thought racing through my head.
*
I learned of the surgeries required to save my life, the shattered rib from the bear, a good chunk of thigh muscle missing from one of the bullet wounds going gangrenous, and the long battle I’d waged against infection. Jillian wasn’t sure I’d make it.
She, on the other hand, only had a slight limp, a few more scars, and was healing well. It was the one bright spot in the whole fucking situation.
I watched her, as she sat in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed, and wondered what to say.
“Can you go home?” My voice was lower than usual.
“No. My home was burned to the ground, Squirrel. I’ve got a claim in, blah, blah, blah, but the only two places I have are with you, and my parents’ home in Alabama.” She turned and met my gaze.
I lost the train of thought, drowning in the green of her eyes. I could see courage, willingness to fight, but mostly I found compassion. Not pity or sympathy, but a need to help others.
“It’s only going to get worse, Jilly Bean. Do you understand? I have to work out the last of the details. I know what they want, and think I know where it is, but it isn’t just Cornell. Someone else, sober and vicious, is trying to drive me away. One hundred thirty years of family history is on that land, in my house. I can’t walk away from it, and I don’t want you hurt.” I reached and clumsily grabbed the cup of water.
“Who the hell are you to say what is too dangerous for me?” Her voice was low, even, and a clear indicator of her state of mind. She wanted to kick my ass.
“You want more of the cabin, Jillian?” I yelled.
She stood, braced herself using the bed rails, and leaned in close. Her breath, smelling of coffee and cinnamon, gently blew against my cheeks. She whispered, “You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and cannot do. Nor do I need a man who wants to play White Knight to Damsel in Distress. I’m staying until the bitter end. Am I understood?”
I blinked, as what little mind I had left short circuited. Even Karen hadn’t stood up to me. Jillian readily went toe to toe, and refused to let me play Knight in Shining Armor. Every hair stood on end, as electrical shocks made circuits through my skin. I gave her a lopsided grin. “As you wish, M’lady.”
She burst out in laughter, “I haven’t heard you say that in ages!” She sobered, leaving a ghost of a smile on her face, “I don’t need saving, Squirrel. And you need backup.” She nodded once and left the room.
I watched, fascinated.
*
The rubber of the wheelchair tires made a whispering sound as the attendant pushed me to Jillian’s waiting car.
“All right, Mr. Martin. I’m going to load your things into her trunk. Do you need help?” He was a young man, probably early twenties, and nice. He’d been the one to take me to different tests, changing of casts, and escorting me as I tried to walk the halls.
“No, Cody, I’m good. Thanks, man. Take care of yourself.” I shook his hand.
I turned to give Jillian raised eyebrows. She’d been holding out on me. She’d brought a 1971 Plymouth Barracuda to pick me up. It was a deep gunmetal gray, with black pin striping and a lighter gray interior. She stood on the driver’s side, the door open, forearms resting on the roof.
“What? It’s my other vehicle, I just happen to keep it in a secure storage since it’s prime for theft. They burned my Jeep to cinders.” She cocked her head, face a mask of innocence.
I wasn’t fooled.
“This thing is gorgeous and will be noticed no matter where we go,” I chuckled. “A bit flashy, but I’ll deal with it.”
“Windows are deeply tinted, so unless they are looking directly through the windshield, they can’t get a read on you. Get in, grumpy ass.” She ducked inside the car.
Chuckling, I opened the door, gave a wave to the young man, and carefully lowered myself into the low riding muscle car. She cranked the engine, and a shiver went down my spine at the sound of the deep growl. So much power, and what sounded like mechanical rage.
I was in love with the hunk of beautiful metal, and even more so with the driver.
Shit.
Chapter Sixteen
The purring of the engine as she drove I-90 we
st relaxed every muscle until I was a puddle in the seat. She turned south on I-15, going directly for Dillon.
“Why are we heading for Dillon?” I watched the mountains pass, several snowcapped.
She sighed. “Several of the ranchers around your place are suing to force you to give up your water rights. I spoke to Blaze and the DA, told them what happened, and,” she reached for a folder next to the seat, “I have it in writing they are not going to press charges.” She gave the folder to me.
Inside, I found five different suits filed against me, and two notarized letters stating they felt I’d acted in self-defense in accordance with Montana laws, and therefore, would not be prosecuted.
“How in the hell did you get this?”
“Blaze. But I wanted to talk to you about that.” She glanced briefly my way before turning back to the road.
“What? Blaze has been a lifesaver. Considering all the bloody violence, they should have locked me up and thrown away the key.”
“It wasn’t Blaze, sweetie. It was Karen.” She maneuvered around a semi. “She called, yelling none of us told her you were injured. Side note: that woman has an impressive vocabulary. One moment pure professionalism, followed by enough cursing to make an inmate blush.” She grinned.
“Yeah, messing with her is not a good idea. I’m going to have to call her and listen to at least twenty minutes of cursing and yelling.”
“Anyway, she pulled a few strings. Did you know her uncle was the VPOTUS?” She gave me wide eyes.
“Who do you think finally got her out of trouble? She hated involving him. She’s all too aware of political ties.” I stared out the window, the memories forcing my heart speed up.
“Okay, well, he’s been keeping an eye on you. Karen said they’ve been forced to make sure he has all the facts, and all complaints are verified. He can only pull strings, since it’s a state matter, but Karen made a few threats as well. You know her father was well respected in Dillon.”
The VPOTUS getting involved didn’t bode well. It things didn’t stop soon, they planned to throw the book at me. One fact bothered me more than the others. Why was Blaze taking the credit for what Karen was doing? And how in the hell was I supposed to get Karen to stop?
The silence in the car was heavy, hard to ignore. She wanted an answer, but I didn’t know what to say.
The signs marking the exits for Dillon began to appear, and she slowed the ‘Cuda.
“We’re heading to my place? Jillian! It’s too dangerous for you to be there.” I turned to face her, a tiny twinge of pain from the newly healed ribs a reminder not everything was back to normal. “I’m not able to defend anything without undoing the last three weeks of hospitalization.”
“I’m not taking you to the ranch. Sheesh. But do you remember Jesse Harck?” I noted the smile she hid by turning away.
“Had the biggest crush on you in elementary school, and as we entered middle school. What about him? Doesn’t he own several businesses in town now?” I gave her a narrow-eyed gaze, seeing her fight to keep a blank expression.
“Yes, and he’s agreed to keep you in one of his houses, knowing the crap going down. And you might want to be nice to him, Squirrel. He’s rooting for you, and starting a petition to have the cases thrown out of court.” She nodded once.
Well, damn. I wasn’t sure what a petition would do, but it could work in my favor. The years of trusting few made for a suspicious nature, and I needed to know why he’d help me. We’d talked on and off through high school, but never friends. Friendly acquaintances at best.
You have to trust at some point, son, the voice of the Colonel echoed in my head. Anytime a new member of our group tried to fit in, I did my best to show why he’d never fit. I was wrong every time, not trusting the Colonel’s instincts.
Taking a deep breath, squeezing my eyes closed, “Okay. Where is he letting me stay?”
I looked out the windshield. Peeking at her, I noted the comical look of surprise.
“I have to trust someone, don’t I?” The people close to Karen who’d betrayed her clouded my vision, and I used all of my will to make them go away. I wasn’t in Laramie, or the middle of international espionage. I had few political ties outside of Karen, nor was the situation a huge international incident. It was centered in Dillon, not across oceans and countries. My current position had to do with the past, and water rights. I had not solved why the extreme violence, although I had a good guess.
“Trust my instincts, please?” She glanced at me.
“Okay, Jilly Bean, I’ll do my best. No guarantees.”
*
I had to give it to Jesse. The “house” turned out to be five bedrooms, five and a half baths, around three thousand square feet settled on fifty acres southeast of Dillon, in the middle of a pine forest. The house itself had a full basement, and two full floors above. In the middle of the second floor, a circular staircase led to a room made entirely of windows. A watchtower.
“You do know if the house burns to the ground, it’ll take half of what I have to rebuild, right?” I gave Jillian an incredulous expression.
She laughed, taking short steps and leading me to a room on the first floor. “He rents it out to hunters in the late fall, but said he put them in different ones for the season, since we don’t know how long we’ll need it.”
She opened the door, and I hobbled in, staring at the raised ceiling, the light taupe colors, cranberry and dark gray accents throughout the room. It was gorgeous, and managed to be masculine with the dark wood furniture. She set my duffel bag on the bed, and opened a door. The bathroom was roomy and would be easy to move around inside.
“I’m in the room down the hall, the second door on the left. We have Wi-Fi, and television as well as a radio. I’ll do an occasional check from the tower, but I’m not trained. You have to tell me what to watch for until you can negotiate the stairs.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Jillian.” I waited for her to stop. “Have I said thank you enough? Told you I appreciate all you’re doing for me? Because you haven’t been back to your job in a month. Sacrificed a lot to remain by my side. I wanted you to know, I recognize it.”
Her expression softened, eyes glowing, and she took quick steps to stand in front of me. Her body language changed, more open, relaxed.
“Squirrel, I love you. I never married because nobody compared to you. And now? Well, the fact you realize I’m here for you …” She grabbed the back of my neck and tugged.
She licked my lips, and I jerked. A hunger roared through me, and I yanked hard on her waist, making her body meet mine from chest to knees. The feel of her body heat, her breasts and stomach against me was my undoing.
I took possession of her mouth, nipping her bottom lip until she opened. I tasted her mouth, loving the sweetness, and tried to stop, but kissed her so hard I was sure it would leave bruising.
She sucked on my tongue, and my hips thrust into her. We moaned in unison.
She pulled back, her breathing labored, nipples showing through the t-shirt, face flushed, and her lips swollen. She was mine.
Swallowing loudly, she spoke in a husky voice, “Not yet, Squirrel. You’ll get an injury, and I’m not ready.”
“I can wait,” I lied. I wanted her now, to feel her body beneath mine, make her moan in pleasure. My mind ripped through twenty different scenarios. But I wouldn’t, not without her permission. She hadn’t given it yet.
She nodded and stumbled out of the room, hand going up and supporting her as she walked to her room.
“Fuck me,” I whispered to the big room.
Chapter Seventeen
Routine. I could remember hating it as a kid, but now, I cherished every moment. Breakfast at eight, lunch at one, and dinner at seven. Jillian would go to the tower every two hours, learning how to watch for dangers.
“I’m having a hard time not focusing,” she complained one afternoon, as the snow fell. It was the first of the season, in late October.
<
br /> “It takes practice. I can take a shift now, you don’t have to do it all the time.” I put my arms around her waist. She liked the cuddling, although we kept to separate bedrooms. I wouldn’t rush her, but dang it, I was getting calluses on my left hand.
She rubbed my forearm, and stepped away. “I want to learn. It can’t last forever, right? But it will come in handy just for general purposes. I know how the eyes work, and the brain’s interpretation, but never had an understanding until now.”
“Okay. I’ll join the next one. And we need to change the times. If they are watching, they’ll take note of the schedule.” I put a hand on her shoulder, “And Jilly Bean, you have to learn how to use a firearm.”
“I didn’t do too badly with the bear.” She raised an eyebrow.
“You got a black eye, and a huge bruise on your arm. Plus it was a shotgun, honey.”
“And?”
“You really need a woman to teach you, since a woman’s center of gravity is different to a man’s, plus your breasts mean a different hold, but I think I can help you become proficient. It’s necessary.”
She put hands on her hips, blew out a breath and looked at the floor, “You’re right.”
I hugged her.
“But Aiden, I don’t think I could shoot a human.”
I nodded, kissed the top of her head, “I know, it’s one of my favorite things. Now, let’s clean up breakfast and I’ll help with the searching for danger.”
I’d managed to walk to the second floor, but needed a five minute break before tackling the circular stairs to the tower. I was huffing and puffing, but smiled at the accomplishment.
Handing her the binoculars, found stuffed at the bottom of one of my duffel bags, I stood behind her.
“Do slow sweeps, you’re not looking at things, you’re waiting for movement. Keep your mind quiet, and when you see something move, stop and focus. Ready?”
She nodded and started by looking south. She moved slow, steady, and stopped. Leaning forward, “Something is to the southwest, moving in the copse with the large oak,” she whispered.
Twisted Iron Page 6
