Kade's Worth (Butler Ranch)
Page 1
Kade’s Worth
Heather Slade
A Butler Ranch Prequel
Kade’s Worth
Copyright © 2020 by Heather Slade
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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Heather Slade
BUTLER RANCH
Available Now!
Book One: Brodie
Book Two: Maddox
Book Three: Naughton
Book Four: Mercer
Book Five: Kade
Butler Ranch Boxed Set: Books 1-5 with Bonus Book: Ainsley
K19 SECURITY SOLUTIONS
Available Now!
Book One: Razor
Book Two: Gunner
Book Three: Mistletoe
Book Four: Mantis
K19 Security Solutions Boxed Set: Books 1-4
Book Five: Dutch
Book Six: Striker
Book Seven: Monk
Coming Soon!
Book Eight: Halo
MILITARY INTELLIGENCE SECTION 6
Available Now!
Book One: Shiver
Book Two: Wilder
Book Three: Pinch
Book Four: Shadow
Military Intelligence Section 6 Boxed Set: Books 1-4
THE INVINCIBLES
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Book One: Decked
Book Two: Edged
Book Three: Grinded
Book Four: Riled
Coming Soon!
Book Five: Smoked
COCKY HERO CLUB NOVELS
Book One: Undercover Agent
Coming Soon!
Book Two: Undercover Saint
Book Three: Undercover Angel
Book Four: Undercover Devil
KB WORLDS EVERYDAY HEROES
Coming Soon!
Book One: Handled
COWBOYS OF CRESTED BUTTE
Available Now!
Book One: Fall for Me
Book Two: Dance with Me
Book Three: Kiss Me Cowboy
Book Four: Stay with Me
Book Five: Win Me Over
Cowboys of Crested Butte Boxed Set: Books 1-5
Contents
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
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Brodie
About the Author
Also by Heather Slade
1
It was always a trade-off…whether he wore the restrictive dust goggles that fogged up and made him so sweaty that he couldn’t see through them anyway. Or, suffer the flying sand that would blast into his eyes because his fifty-fifties—night vision goggles—didn’t provide an adequate shield.
After coming within seconds of dying only minutes earlier, sand in his eyes was the last thing Kade should be worried about as he stood at the landing zone with the rest of his element, waiting for extraction.
He scanned the surrounding landscape for signs of any approaching threat during what was—next to the approach on a target—the most vulnerable part of any operation.
“K19-Bravo, this is Tetrus. Over,” he heard through the bone conduction bud in his left ear.
“Tetrus, this is K19-Bravo. Good copy.”
“Two minutes out. Rope me in, Doc.”
“Roger that.” Kade moved his laser first in a circular motion over his head to give the helicopter pilot a general target. Next, he repeated the same motion on the ground to give him the desired touchdown point.
“Impose radio silence. Over,” he said to his element through his mic. In an op like this, strict radio discipline was always exercised to mitigate the inevitable confusion caused by noise, obscured vision, and the stress of quickly loading and accurately accounting for all personnel. Every small unit leader’s nightmare was leaving someone behind.
As he waited for the aircraft to land, he counted the seconds in which its sound progressed from a brassy hum, to a rhythmic rattle, and finally to the thundering rumble and loud slap as it drew closer to the earth.
The hulking image of the helicopter momentarily disappeared and then materialized back out of the billowing dust storm caused by the rotor blades’ “prop wash.” The build-up of static electricity at the rotor tips created the appearance of a dusty, yet luminescent halo hovering over the unwieldy aircraft as it settled to a clumsy stop.
Kade sprung from a kneeling position and sprinted in a crouched posture toward the aft ramp of the aircraft as it lowered like the jaw of a huge great white shark.
Standing at the trailing edge of the ramp, he took an extra step toward its port side and stopped. As each man loaded into the troop compartment, Kade tapped them on the shoulder to obtain an accurate head count.
When the last man loaded, Kade ran in and took his seat next to the crew member manning the MG 240 machine gun in the starboard gun door. Another mirrored his action on the port side.
“Tetrus, this is K19-Bravo, chalk one is up,” he said through the mic, signaling the pilot that all personnel were accounted for and prepared for lift off.
“K19-Bravo, this is Tetrus. Roger that, good copy. Exfil, exfil, exfil.”
The rotary-winged albatross carrying him and his team lurched forward, teetering from side to side as it lifted from the ground—the pitch of the engine noise intensifying in concert with the speed of the main rotor.
As lift and forward speed increased, Kade closed his eyes in anticipation of that brief moment when the air passing through the two open doors would hit his exposed skin, wet with perspiration. The refreshing feeling was fleeting as the radiant heat from the bird’s turbine engines overcame the cooler air, and the furnace-like heat blew through the troop cabin.
Peering through the gun door, Kade looked out at the vast, barren, desert floor and its endless variations of geometric markings, wondering as he had so many times before, what purpose they served and whom might have etched them on the landscape.
He reached up and extinguished the infra-red strobe attached to the top of his ballistic helmet. Soon, the opposition would acquire the technology and the tactical advantage they had now, would be lost. By then, though, men like his father would stay one step ahead, developing things men like Kade had never even dreamed of.
As the helicopter reached cruising altitude, he did a quick equipment check, turning off the small GPS mounted on his left wrist to spare the batteries.
As he did repeatedly during the course of an operation, he checked the selector switch on his M4 with his right thumb to ensure it remained in the safe position. He would keep his weapon hot, though, until they were back on the ground.
He leaned back against the skin of the aircraft and reached for the power switch on his fifty-fifties and turned them off. He rotated the goggles up away from his face, and locked them into position above the forward lip of his helmet.
It took a few seconds for the visual purple in his retinas to adjust to the darkness but the reflective light from the full moon sped it up.
The white noise of the constant din of the turbine engines, combined with the warm air brought him to a near-catatonic state.
He was tired, thirsty, and hungry. His cl
othes were wet with perspiration and in the cramped space, his body ached from having worn the sixty-plus pounds of tactical gear and weapons for the last several hours.
Deep inside Kade felt a strange sense of belonging in the country that had been destroyed by decades of tyranny and years of war. He couldn’t explain why he felt that way. Sometimes this felt more like where he belonged than home did.
He looked at the men who sat beside and across from him in the aircraft. Many he couldn’t converse with given their language barriers, yet he still considered them his brothers. They were bound by the ties of shared experiences in the face of danger, all feeling the same sense of duty and devotion to a purpose greater than themselves. Their dedication was to those they served, those they protected and, above all, to each other.
The landmarks indicating the approach to their final destination appeared on the horizon, and they prepared for their descent. The chopper made contact with the ground with a a jolt and came to a stop.
The turbines began to whine down as the ramp dropped. They exited the aircraft with the standard sense of urgency to assemble on the edge of the apron where a headcount of personnel would be taken and weapons cleared.
There would be pats on the back from those who weren’t on this op. Congratulations given for another successful mission. As hungry as Kade felt on the ride back, his appetite was now gone. A beer would be nice at a time like this, but their station was dry.
“Sir?” one of the men called to him as he walked toward the bunkhouses.
He waved behind him before continuing in the same direction. Tomorrow they would assemble for the hotwash. There was no need to relive the mission again now. He’d do plenty of that in his dreams.
After shedding his gear, Kade walked into the ten-by-ten room that was his home more often than the five-thousand square-foot house he had back in the States. He laid on his back on the single bed, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. This tour was almost over. Soon he’d be on a transport that would take him first to the United States European Command in Stuttgart, Germany where he’d debrief. Unless he was called to report for another mission, he’d be stateside for at least two months.
2
When he was deployed, Kade dreamed about the seaside village of Cambria. One spot in particular. The place was called Stave, and it was a combination wine bar and tasting room. He liked wine well enough, but that wasn’t why he dreamed of it. No, it was the woman who owned it that he found himself fantasizing about day and night— Peyton Wolf.
When he met her, Peyton’s blonde hair was pulled back away from her face, accentuating her pale, sage-green eyes. He’d never seen eyes that color before.
It was her smile that reeled him the rest of the way in, and her warmth. Being around Peyton calmed him, gave him a peaceful, easy feeling.
He’d attended a wine dinner she hosted at Stave, one that featured wines made by his brother Maddox.
From that fateful night on, he made a point of visiting Stave whenever he was home on leave, and soon he and Peyton became friends.
Kade asked her more questions than he answered, although she didn’t ask very many. It was as though she knew that he couldn’t talk about what he did when he was gone for weeks at a time.
On what he found out later was a particularly long Friday night—when a group of tourists decided to hang out far past closing time—he sent Peyton an email. In it, he told her he’d be gone two weeks longer than he’d originally anticipated, but hoped to see her the night he got home.
A few minutes later, she responded asking if he was suggesting they go out on a date. When he answered that he was, she didn’t respond. It brought a smile to his face, imagining that his blunt assertion after almost four years of being nothing more than her friend, freaked Peyton out.
He got it, though. She was single mom with two young sons, who had gone through a messy-as-hell divorce. Was she gun shy? Of course she was. Would he let that stop him? Never.
Three sleeps until he saw her again, and he couldn’t wait.
Rather than go home, Kade drove his truck straight from the airport to Stave. Peyton wouldn’t be in yet, but he wouldn’t mind waiting.
He ordered a glass of wine and some food—the kind he could never get when he was at one of the bases he was regularly sent to. Addy, the woman behind the bar, brought him a loaf of just-out-of-the-oven French bread, and a plate with different kinds of cheese, smoked salmon, and fruit.
He took a bite, closed his eyes, and groaned. When he opened them, the woman in so many of his dreams, stood in front of him.
“Welcome back,” she said. Her cheeks were pink and after she spoke, she lowered her eyes.
“Thank you. It’s nice to be back. Actually, it’s more like heaven.”
“When did you get in?”
Kade picked up his cell phone and checked the time. “About an hour and a half ago.”
Peyton laughed. “I guess you were hungry.”
Not being able to stop himself, Kade let his eyes wander the length of Peyton’s body. “Very,” he said, looking back into her mesmerizing pale green eyes.
He told himself if he could get just one kiss from her, that would be enough. It wouldn’t be though. As much as he craved her food, he craved her body more. For four years he’d lusted after Peyton Wolf, and while he knew they wouldn’t be having sex anytime soon, the idea that someday they would, filled him with equal levels of excitement and frustration.
She wanted him too. That much was obvious by the way her nipples hardened, her breathing accelerated, and her pupils dilated. He’d learned to read people’s bodies, their reactions, as both a trained physician’s assistant and a special forces operative.
He wouldn’t make use of that knowledge now, though. First, he had to convince her to spend time with him outside of Stave. Once he’d done that, he could start thinking about getting into her panties.
“You don’t always have to stay and walk me out, you know. You must be exhausted from traveling,” she said as she turned on the alarm and locked the back door.
Kade held his hand out for Peyton’s keys, and opened her car door. “I rest easier knowing you’re safe.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Kade. I’ll see you soon?”
“Guaranteed.”
Kade had an apartment above the winery on his parents’ ranch, but he rented a place at the beach anyway. The ranch was thirty miles inland, which meant in the summer, it was also thirty degrees hotter.
Besides, it was nice to have a place he could walk to. He didn’t have to worry if he had one more glass of wine. The cool night air was refreshing after spending so many weeks in a scorchingly hot desert.
There weren’t many clouds in the sky tonight, and the moon was almost full. Instead of going directly to the house, he stopped and sat on one of the big rocks that overlooked Moonstone Beach. He closed his eyes and listened to the waves, breathed in the salt air, and thought about Peyton. It didn’t matter where he was in the world, she was almost always on his mind.
He’d seen her here a few times, either running or surfing—sometimes alone, sometimes with her boys. That was only one of the reasons he found her so beguiling. The water on the Central Coast never got much above sixty-five degrees; right now it was probably closer to fifty, yet regardless of temperature, he’d seen her out in the water wearing a skin-tight, curve-hugging, full-body neoprene pink and gray wetsuit that nearly made him go down on his knees in prayer.
Kade walked the rest of the way to his rental, anxious for a shower and a long night’s sleep in a real bed. Tomorrow morning, he’d head into town for breakfast and then inland to visit his folks. He could tell himself that he wouldn’t stop by Stave on his way back to the beach, but if he drove by and saw Peyton’s car, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
3
Peyton plopped down on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, wondering why in the hell she hadn’t invited Kade over. Because it was after midnigh
t and by doing so, he might’ve thought it was for sex. Which it definitely would’ve been. And they hadn’t even gone on a date yet.
But how could she stop herself from thinking about having sex with him? The man’s body was ripped like a damn god. He wasn’t too tall, maybe straight up six feet. He kept his head shaved and had a closely cropped dark, reddish-brown goatee. A scar ran from just below his left ear, down the side of his face, to his chin. Peyton hadn’t asked how he got it and didn’t plan to.
When they talked, which they could do for hours, she would get lost in his bright blue eyes that never wavered from hers. It was like he looked straight into her soul while he listened. Peyton had never been a big talker, but somehow Kade got her to talk about everything—her boys, her divorce, her parents, her hopes and dreams, even her favorite books.
He loved to read and while what she read was completely different, there were times when the wine bar was slow and they’d sit out on the patio next to the fire pit, both of them absorbed in a book. It was times like those, that she wondered what it would be like if they were more than friends.
She didn’t do more than friends, though. The one and only time she let a friend talk her into becoming his lover, she’d married him, and that was the biggest mistake of her life.
Lang Becker. The man who’d decided that being married and having kids wasn’t really his “thing.” He left Peyton for another woman when Jamison was three, and Finn had just turned one. At seven and five, neither of the boys remembered anything about their dad since he hadn’t seen them since the day he walked out.