Brotherhood Protectors_Montana Freedom

by Natasza Waters

  “Where are you?”

  “Downtown Eagle Rock.”

  “Where are the girls?”

  “At Sol’s”

  “Shit. What happened?”

  “Sam told me to go home. Said she was turning in for the night. I didn’t believe her and a few minutes after I left, she and Tania drove to town. I followed.”

  Cory ran back to his truck. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  ****

  Sam and Tania chose to stand at the bar, based on an unwritten rule in Sol’s. Single girls interested in hooking up didn’t need a chair because they didn’t intend on staying long.

  Tania ordered them each a beer, and they watched the crowd. Since they’d grown up in Eagle Rock, they knew a lot of the regulars. Some guys were hound dogs, married but looking for a quick fling. Other men blew into town to work on ranches during the season, and then blew out again once October came and the first snowflake landed on the ground.

  “You think he’s here?” Tania asked, standing next to Sam.

  “Don’t know.” She tipped her beer to her lips. “I didn’t recognize the voice. If someone hired him, he’d want to make sure the job was done.”

  “Aren’t we asking for trouble?” Tania looked scared, which made Sam wonder whether she should have involved her sister.

  “We’re in a public place. No one’s going to try and hurt me here.”

  They’d already spent an hour at the two other bars in Eagle Rock. Guys had hit on her, but none of them wore the boots she was after. If they didn’t find the guy here, then she’d head home. It was a long shot to think he’d still be in town.

  “Well, well, well. Having a night out on the town?” Mack said, leaning on the bar next to Sam.

  Great. “Hey, Mack. Here to shoot someone else in the leg?” She didn’t look at him. Instead, she swallowed another mouthful of beer and set the bottle on the counter.

  Mack turned and rested his elbows on the bar rail. “I know, stupid move. Momma hasn’t let me forget it.”

  “She’s a good woman.”

  “She is, and she doesn’t deserve a dick son like me.”

  Sam turned a look on him.

  Mack jerked his head and pressed his lips into a meek smile. “Yeah, I know what I am. I hate that farm. I hate farming. Always have, but my old man wanted me to be a rancher.”

  “Then why don’t you leave? Do something else.”

  “Cause Momma won’t leave. She wants to die there.” He shrugged. “So I stay. I know you probably won’t believe me, but I do try to make life easier for her.” He tossed a look her way. “Now, if I could marry a good woman, someone who could bring me back in line. I might stay longer.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t look at me.”

  “Where’s that big military guy? Hiding around the corner to teach me a lesson?”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  Someone nudged between her and Tania, and she shuffled over to give him room. When he ordered a shot of tequila, Sam’s stomach pitched. She didn’t turn her head. Didn’t want to set off any flares, but she did drop her gaze to the peanut shell-covered floor planks. Her heart sped up, recognizing the boots.

  When she flicked a gaze to Mack, he gave her a tilt of his head and studied her face. “Why don’t I buy us a round?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  Sam raised her head, not to look at the bartender but the mirror behind him. The man beside her had deep brown eyes. His gaze connected with hers and she gave him a smile. One that said she liked what she saw. The guy’s expression loosened, and he turned his head to look across his ample shoulder at her.

  “Hey.”

  She smiled. “Hey, yourself.”

  He nodded, picked up his drink and walked toward the back of the bar where the pool tables were located.

  “You know that guy?” Mack asked.

  “No. You?”

  “Saw him the other day. He was at Bayley’s. Thought he was a tourist at first, but then he bought some supplies.”

  “What kind?”

  Mack shrugged. “Rope. Burlap sack. Some other odds and ends. He doesn’t look like a seasonal.”

  “Don’t think that’s what he is.”

  Mack attracted her attention when he put a hand on her shoulder. “What’s up, Sammy? You look scared as hell.”

  Tania interjected. “Think it’s time to head home.”

  “Why don’t you have my beer?” She plopped it in her sister’s hand.

  Mack stood up to his full height. “Where ya going?”

  “Ladies room,” she lied.

  Sam pushed her way through the couples dancing and headed toward the back of the bar. A few heads turned her way as she scanned the patrons at the pool tables. Where was he? Then her eyes fell on the back exit. She followed, and thrust the door open to step into the alley. Every hair on her neck stood up when the sound of gravel crunched under a footstep.

  “Not wise to follow a man who wants to kill you, Samantha.”

  She whipped around, and the stranger from the bar stared at her. His eyes as fathomless as a dark pit.

  “I want to know who hired you.”

  He spit out a ruthless laugh. “You got grit, I’ll say that for you.”

  His swarthy, dark skin and Middle Eastern looks didn’t compute with his accent which sounded one hundred percent American.

  He pulled a rope from his pocket and stepped toward her, but didn’t hear Cory’s approach behind him. Cory’s arm came down with precision, packing all his strength, and when he struck the guy’s head, the stranger wilted to the ground.

  Mack jogged up and looked at the guy lying unconscious at her feet. “What the fuck is going on? Who is that?”

  “Gonna find out,” Cory said, hauling the guy up and over his shoulder. “I need privacy. A place off the beaten track. Grab that rope.”

  Mack shrugged and picked up the rope. Cory didn’t look at her and walked with the guy slung over his shoulder like he packed a side of beef.

  He put his keys in Mack’s hand. “He won’t be out long. Need somewhere close.”

  “Uh-sure.” Mack looked back at her and then ran ahead.

  Tania skidded around the corner, then stopped in her tracks. Fear scribed across her face. “Is that him? Should I get the sheriff?”

  “Take your sister home,” Cory said gruffly.

  Sam recognized the cadence in his voice. It was all D-Force. “Tania, go home. I’ll catch a ride with Cory.”

  Cory didn’t turn, but his voice chilled her.

  “Go home, Sam.”

  She ran around to stand in front of him. “You’re mad, but I’m not leaving.” She turned to her sister. “Take the truck.”

  Tania glanced between them, then grabbed the keys from Sam’s open palm and ran across the street.

  Mack pulled up close to the alley and Cory deposited the stranger into the crew cab. Sam opened the passenger door and Cory’s hand gripped her upper arm.

  “Get your damn hands off me, Cory. I’m coming.” She scrambled inside and sat quietly as Mack drove them a mile from town to a deserted farm that used to be owned by the Bickers. Hard times, alcohol and finally cancer, decimated the family.

  Cory didn’t waste time. He kicked in the dilapidated front door of the old farm house and dropped the guy in a chair with spindly legs that looked like it could break at any second. The house had been abandoned long enough for teenagers to spray paint graffiti everywhere, kick holes in the walls and break the windows.

  She watched Cory tie the guy to the chair. Mack came to stand beside her.

  “Not sure if I should stay. The look in Cory’s eyes got me worried.”

  “You should be.”

  “Never had any good sense. I’ll stay.”

  Cory made sure the ropes were tight. He gripped the guy by the hair and jerked his prisoner’s head back. Leaning close to his ear, he said, “Wake up, boy.”

  The strangers eyes blinked open, then n
arrowed on Cory when he hunched down in front of him like he was gonna give him a pep talk, except Sam knew the way special operators got their information.

  “Nice boots,” Cory said and raised his eyes to meet the stranger’s. “Apparently, you visited the Bluebell Ranch today.”

  The stranger glared back at him. If Sam didn’t know better, she’d think his hatred was directed at Cory. Maybe because her protector had outsmarted this guy.

  Cory’s next words shocked her. He spoke to the guy in Arabic, and the man jerked in his chair. She watched, only understanding a couple words he said. Revenge being one of them.

  The stranger shot a look her way. “I should have ripped you open and be done with it.”

  Sam’s pulse raged when Cory hauled off and landed his fist in the guy’s face. Blood spilled from the stranger’s lips and dribbled down his chin.

  The guy spit out a mouthful. Mucous and blood landed with a splat on the ruddy linoleum.

  Cory knelt down again. “You’re not a man for hire. You want me, don’t you?”

  “I’d love to kill every one of you fucking pricks that don’t belong in my country.”

  “Which country exactly?”

  “Afghanistan. You walked in and destroyed our people, our way of life, but no, I was hired to scare her.” He jerked his head toward Sam. “But when I learned about you, that you were a soldier, I decided to make things a little more permanent.”

  “Who hired you?”

  The stranger shook his head. “You should know better than that. I never made contact except through a courier, but they have money and they want her gone.”

  Cory rounded the chair and dug his fingers in the guy’s neck. The stranger shook, held in the pain as long as he could, then yelled loud enough Sam covered her ears and shut her eyes. It was one thing to see the results of war in a hospital, but a horrifying difference seeing it inflicted.

  “Tell me who.” Cory’s voice held a level tone, but the fierce promise that he wouldn’t stop until he learned the truth, chilled her blood.

  The guy yelled again when Cory dug his fingers in a second time.

  “Fuck you.” Spittle and blood stuck to his swarthy skin. He brushed his chin against his shoulder and glared at Cory.

  “You see that woman? The one you’ve tried to kill?” Cory pointed at her. “For years she healed your people. You buried IED’s under the sand and let your children walk over them. You think she’s an infidel. The enemy! She was your saving grace. It was me. I’m your enemy. I’m the one that marched into your villages and eradicated your people.”

  “You both should be dead.”

  Cory stood to his full height and then powered a round house kick into the stranger’s gut, sending the chair toppling backwards. The stranger lifted his head at the last second to avoid smacking it on the floor, but the force ricocheted his neck and Sam heard a hard thump.

  With little effort, Cory righted the chair. “I’ll tell ya something, Abdul.”

  “My name isn’t Abdul,” he growled.

  Cory reached into his side pocket and pulled out a wallet. Obviously, this man’s wallet that he’d taken.

  “Sure, Rick Bowman. You don’t look like a Rick to me.” He flung the wallet against the guy’s chest. “Tell me the name of the man who hired you, and you’ll be back on a plane to your rubble of a country instead of a corpse under a rock pile in Montana.”

  Sam’s fear tripled, seeing the deadly gaze in Cory’s eyes. She moved to stop him, but Mack gripped her arm and shook his head, wanting her to remain out of harm’s way. He looked scared, too.

  Rick or whatever his name was, ground his jaw together. The glare between the men seemed to go on forever until Rick leaned his head to the side and spit a mouthful of blood. “Adam Stettler.”

  “Who the fuck is he?”

  “I know who he is.” Mack kept a healthy distance from Cory. When Cory nodded at him to continue, Mack said, “He works for a private corporation. A gas corporation. They wanted to buy us out. We let them test on our land. Stettler tried to convince Momma to sell. We’ve heard enough horror stories about fracking and the damage it does to the environment. Momma refused.”

  Cory stared down at Rick. “So, they thought they’d get the same response from other ranches and tried another tactic.”

  He pulled his phone and spoke with Hank.

  Within five minutes, the sheriff arrived. When he walked into the old farmhouse, his brows rose. “I called the Feds. They’re on their way. Mr. Bowman here has a few warrants out for his arrest.”

  Another twenty minutes passed, then Hank Patterson and the other Brotherhood Protectors walked in. Hank’s keen eyes surveyed the scene.

  “Outside,” he ordered, and Cory followed him out the front door.

  Sam edged her way to the door and slipped out to listen.

  Hank squared off with Cory, who stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his gaze riveted to the ground. Hank waited until Cory finally raised his head. “You worked that guy over pretty good.”

  Cory didn’t respond, and Hank didn’t look like he wanted one.

  Hank’s eyes narrowed. “It’s over now. The threat has been removed. Sam and Tania are safe.”

  Cory’s eyes turned toward the heavens. “It’s not over. Not until Stettler is stopped. He’ll send someone else. You know as well as I do, these corporations don’t stop because they fail once.”

  “Let the Feds deal with it. They’ll get the full report and they’ll go after Stettler.”

  Cory shook his head. “Sam isn’t safe. It’s not over.”

  Anger welled inside her soul. Cory had been in control and in his element. He knew it. Everyone in the room knew it, and especially Rick Bowman. Watching him interrogate Rick, Sam hated the brutality.

  Sam stepped out from behind the weeping willow she’d hid behind. “That’s a lie and you know it. You felt the thrill of the operation again. Realize you miss it. Don’t use me as an excuse, Delta Force, because you’ve had an epiphany and need the action. The hunt.”

  “Sam—”

  She thrust her hand into the air. “Don’t. Pack your things and leave my ranch. Find Stettler if you want, but don’t try to sell me an island of bullshit at low tide.”

  Mack appeared beside her and kept a wary eye on Cory. “I’m heading home.”

  “I could use a ride.”

  He nodded and they left Cory standing there, gazing with the same handsome but empty expression he’d had when she’d seen him the first time.

  Mack paused for a moment as he passed Cory and said something to him, then he caught up to her.

  They drove in silence, and when Mack parked in front of the house, she finally asked him what he’d said to Cory.

  Mack bowed his head and sighed. “Told him living a lie is worse than anything he’s done protecting this country, and maybe ranching isn’t for him nor are you.”

  She sat quietly until the frogs serenaded the night and brought her nerves down a notch or two. “You’re right.” A tear wet her cheek as she slid from the seat. “See ya around.”

  He gripped the steering wheel. “Hey, ya think—”

  “No, Mack.” Sam stared into the dark cab of the truck. “At least, not for a long while.”

  “Ya really fell for him, didn’t ya?”

  “I knew better, but I guess I did.” She swept the tear from her face. “I hoped Montana could set him free, too. But every thought or action a warrior takes is about protecting, annihilating or conquering. It’s ingrained in them. War sets a cornerstone in every man. Men like Cory never lose their focus. The mission must be completed, but that’s the hitch. There’s always another mission. And another. Until one day…” The tears poured from her eyes until she couldn’t see and she gripped the door frame for assurance. The words choked in her throat. “Until one day they make a mistake. Nothing, not even love stops them from giving everything, including their lives.”

  An hour later, Sam stared up at
the rafters in her bedroom. She heard the front door open, then Cory’s step as he slowly climbed the stairs. In and out of his room within a few seconds, he quietly closed the bedroom door.

  His steps paused outside her room. Her heart squeezed tight, knowing he wouldn’t knock. He wouldn’t say good-bye. None of his type ever did. They just disappeared into the night.

  Sam’s bottom lip trembled, hearing his boots continue down the hall, the stairs and out the front door.

  Chapter Eleven

  The smell of bacon wafted past her nose, and her eyes sprang open to a beautiful Sunday morning shining into her room. Sliding into her soft slippers, Sam headed for the kitchen in her small slip of a shirt and a pair of jogging pants. Her hair stuck up in every direction, but she didn’t really care.

  Tania set the plates on the table. “Was hoping, you’d get up.”

  Sam poured a cup of coffee. A curl flopped over her eye and she blew it away. “Not very hungry.” A bouquet of local spring flowers in a mason jar sat between them. “You pick these?”

  Tania shook her head and pushed a sheet of paper across the old wooden table. Sam didn’t want to turn her gaze to the paper.

  Her sister stared at her. “He must have picked them by flashlight because they were here when I got up. Look, or are you too afraid to see the truth.”

  Sam’s gaze flashed to the paper with the hand scribbled note.

  I love you, Samantha.

  Sam released her breath in a low, long exhale. “He’s gone.”

  “I know.” Tania bobbed her head. “But he’ll be back, Sam.”

  She mentally stomped on her fluttering heart. And kept stomping until she’d broken every little set of wings, then cleared her throat. “We need to get the tractor running. Repair the wheels. Guess the best thing is to call a tow truck and drag it up to the maintenance shed. Carl can—”

  “Today, we’re going to church.”

  “Church? No, I’m not going to church.”

  “We used to go all the time as a family.”

  “Yeah, well, not anymore.”

  “Sam!”

  She unwrapped one of Tania’s homemade blueberry muffins and took a bite. Chewing it thoughtfully. Finally, she looked at her sister. “What?”