Table of Contents
Title Page
A Silver Publishing Book
Note from the Publisher
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Cheyenne Meadows
Reviews
A Silver Publishing Book
Summer's Night
Copyright © 2012 by Cheyenne Meadows
E-book ISBN: 9781614956976
First E-book Publication: September 2012
Cover design by Lee Tiffin
Editor: Venus Cahill
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].
This book is written in US English.
PUBLISHER
www.SPSilverPublishing.com
Note from the Publisher
Dear Reader,
Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.
Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.
If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].
Thank you for not pirating our titles.
Lodewyk Deysel
Publisher
Silver Publishing
http://www.spsilverpublishing.com
Dedication
For all those who believed in me, who supported me, cheered me on, and gave me a much needed shove to submit my first book, I will be forever grateful. Without each one of you, I would never have taken the chance and fulfilled a dream.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
US Marines: US Marine Corps, a component of the US Department of the Navy
US Navy: The Department of the Navy, Agency of the United States Government
US Army: Department of the Army, Agency of the United States Government
Fortune 500: Time, Inc.
Kentucky Derby: Churchill Downs Incorporated
Barbie: Mattel, Inc.
Superman: DC Comics
Black Hawk Helicopter: Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation
Works Cited
Young, Robert and William Morgan. The Navajo Language: A Grammar and Colloquial Dictionary. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1980.
Chapter 1
Night scrubbed a hand across his face in an attempt to banish the exhaustion and instill alertness and energy. Without looking in a mirror, he knew dark circles resided under his eyes and deep lines furrowed his face, all the result of forty-eight hours with no sleep.
Night's team had located a top drug kingpin just as he returned to his remote lair, a heavily fortified cement structure with a dozen hired mercenaries paid to ensure his protection and survival. Due to his team's stealth, courage and ability to strategize quickly, they slid into the shadows of predawn, leaving an imploded building in their wake. Another job done, another bad guy taken out.
Loco drove their late model black SUV toward their home base. None of them had slept despite being on the road for three hours, their drawn faces spoke of fatigue and a need for downtime. Yet, Night knew, if the occasion called for it, each one would go to battle immediately, pushing their physical limits to the brink. That's just what Wind Warriors did.
Night formed the group a few years back, seeking out the highest trained, former Special Forces members he could find, offering them independence, high wages, and the luxury of declining any mission they felt uneasy about. In exchange, they kept their adrenalin rush skills fresh, wiped scum from the earth, and made his business a success with more mission offers than he could possibly accept. The government officially denied his team existed, only a select few in senior levels knew about their specialized services and only two possessed the power to recruit his assistance in making a nearly untouchable snake disappear.
He nudged Loco, a tall, sandy-haired former Marine, and gestured toward a billboard advertising restaurants and a hotel just off the next off ramp. "Sleep or food first?" He turned to glance at each of his men, raking his gaze over their faces, determining their levels of weariness and ability to continue if the need arose.
"Sleep." Cale's voice carried from the backseat. His blue eyes appeared dull against his nearly black hair, shoulders slumped as if he was simply too tired to sit up straight. The former Navy Seal could usually outlast them all, but not today.
"Sleep." Loco echoed.
"Agreed." Spoon, the fourth member of the team, a former Green Beret, solidified the vote, while rubbing at his brown eyes.
"Sleep it is."
They took the exit, quickly pulling into the parking lot of a chain hotel. Smaller motels worked but sometimes the front desk help became antsy when four large-framed men dressed in camouflage wandered in from the street. Larger inns booked more guests, but didn't ask nearly as many questions, and usually treated them with frank respect, automatically believing they were attached to present, active-duty with the military. None of the team corrected their mistake.
No sooner had they registered and entered their room, did they drop their duffle bags, lock the door, and divvy up who would take which bed. They could easily afford a room apiece, but safety lay in numbers. Besides, it wasn't the first time they shared sleeping quarters and most likely wouldn't be the last. For a stay as brief as theirs, it didn't make sense to spend a fortune on luxuries none of them needed or expected. Most of the time, they simply asked for an extra cot or two, then flipped a coin for who slept where. In a pinch, they shared beds, not quite comfortable sleeping on the floor even though all of them had slept in much worse situations.
Night smirked as, almost in unison, the guys pulled out their cell phones, punching in familiar numbers. Home could wait a few more hours even if phone calls to loved ones couldn't.
He followed suit, tapping in his home number, smiling when his mother answere
d.
"How are you feeling? Did you start your therapy today?"
Felina Kensington underwent total knee replacement on her right leg a few short days ago. Just when the doctors released her, an emergency mission yanked him halfway across the country, throwing a large monkey wrench into his plans for making sure his mother received the best of care. The inability to be in two places at once tore at him, responsibility and the need to be there for his mother pulling at him from opposing sides. His mother insisted he go, take care of his men, that she would be more than fine.
In the end, he took her advice, still annoyed with the poor timing of this mission. Instead of meeting and ferreting out the proper physical therapist, he was forced to allow an agency to choose one for her. He couldn't even attend her first exercise session, much to his frustration and chagrin. That would change today as he would make it home that evening, come Hell or high water.
"I'm doing well." His mother's soft and cheery voice carried across the phone. "Are you okay? You must be on your way home." Perceptive and wise, she easily understood all the no communication rules in place to protect the Wind Warriors as well as any loved ones. The stakes they played for remained high and revenge from targets who escaped justice waited in the wings. You could never be too careful, not if you wanted to live long.
"I am. I'm sorry I couldn't have been there yesterday to meet your physical therapist."
"Oh, Summer is just a dear."
"Summer?" He frowned. "What kind of name is that?" His tone dropped in disapproval as he pictured a teenage girl chewing bubble gum, fumbling through exercises with his mother, lacking the experience necessary in order to care for patients properly.
"Colton Regent Night Shadow Kensington! Shame on you. Putting a sweet woman down for her name. Of all people, you shouldn't throw stones at her glass house."
He sighed into the phone. His mother could out-stubborn a mule. If she liked this girl, nothing he could say would change her opinion. He only hoped this Summer didn't end up messing up the new knee. "I take it you like her?"
"Why, yes. She came over yesterday, spent nearly two hours with me. Even brought me delicious cookies." She continued, lavishing praise on the girl.
"I don't care if she's a gourmet chef, how did your therapy go?" he grumbled into the phone, his gaze flicking over the room as one by one, the men closed their phones, plopped onto the beds, then settled into sleep mode. Unlacing one boot, he pulled it off before starting on the other.
"Fine. Really. She showed me some exercises, gave me some handouts for ones to do when I'm alone. We walked around the house with the walker and she guided me through some range of motion movements. Don't worry. She really knows what she's doing. Reminds me a bit of you, watching me like a hawk."
Score one for the therapist.
Ever since he could remember, it was just him and his mother against the world. She raised him alone, sometimes working two jobs to keep a roof over their head. Her lack of education minimized her job options to low paying and backbreaking manual labor. She took the jobs head on, never complaining, and managed to keep him fed, clothed, and out of trouble, while stressing the importance of education until it sank in and stuck like superglue. All of those menial jobs wore her knees out, which was why she needed a replacement now.
He stifled a yawn, his body lax as he prepared for a long-needed nap. "Okay. I should be home late tonight. I'll meet this paragon tomorrow."
"Get some rest, Colton. It sounds like you need it. And, don't forget breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day, after all."
The corner of his mouth tilted upward at her words. Once a mother, always a mother. No matter how old he grew, she always worried and fretted over the little things like he was a small child. He never admitted it, but it only endeared her all the more. "I will. Promise. Love you."
"Love you, too."
The phone clicked as she hung up. He closed his phone, checked the lock on the door once more, and flopped down on a cot. Out of habit, he stashed his spare handgun under the makeshift bed then closed his eyes, immediately falling to sleep.
Chapter 2
"Great job, Mrs Kensington." Summer praised her new patient as she performed yet another exercise to strengthen her leg muscles and get back on her feet following knee replacement surgery. "Just like that. Slide your heel toward your rear end gently, just enough to feel a bit of a stretch, hold for a few seconds, then slide it back out again." She crouched down beside the bed, observing carefully for any break in proper alignment or technique. "Three more. You can do it."
A peripheral movement caught her attention. Glancing over, she discovered a tall man observing the session, his long blue-black hair brushed straight and hanging down past his shoulder blades. Deep blue eyes contrasted with his dark skin and hair. His powerful fingers gripped a steaming mug as he stood in the doorway, watching her with an expression rife with intensity.
"Two. One." She automatically counted for her patient, turning her attention to the older woman reclining on the bed, giving her a large smile. "I'm so proud of you."
"Whew! I'm glad that one is over. I swear that's my worst." Mrs Kensington sat up, gingerly rotating with Summer's assistance, until her right leg extended straight out from her body, her heel resting on the floor. The other leg bent at the knee, providing support in preparation for standing. "Oh, Colton. I didn't see you standing there." She grinned at the man, her face glowing with what appeared to be joy and pride.
Summer stood up, moving the walker closer to her patient, her gaze skipping back to their visitor. Colton, she called him. Her heart sped at the mere sight of him. He could easily have been on the cover of one of the romance novels she secreted away, her guilty pleasure on cold evenings. His Native American heritage spoke loudly in his coloring, dark hair, high cheekbones, strong jaw, and chiseled nose that hooked just slightly. Those blue eyes, though. Wow. Eerie, yet beautiful, they saw deep into her soul, peeling away layers as if he possessed magical powers and could ferret out the truth just from a stare full of intimidation. A unique blend, but one that worked for him. Very well.
"Colton. This is Summer. Summer, this is Colton, my son."
Summer smiled at the man, not the least surprised to hear of strong family ties with Mrs Kensington. They resembled one another in many ways, obviously sharing a heritage, although her coloring seemed a bit lighter, which could mean something or nothing. She stood a head shorter, about the same height as Summer herself, while Colton carried a larger, more muscular frame, not just a masculine form, but a stouter build altogether. Mrs Kensington's black hair lacked the midnight blue nuances of her son's while gray streaks provided a delicate salt and pepper tint. "Nice to meet you."
Colton stepped closer, his face stoic. Raking her over with a glance, he lifted the cup to his lips. "Same." He sipped before lowering the cup once more.
How odd. He almost sounded like he didn't care for her. But that didn't make sense, they just met literally two seconds ago. Summer mentally shrugged away his gruff greeting. Perhaps he was one of those people that you simply didn't speak to before they drank half a pot of coffee.
Returning to her task at hand, she looked down at her client. "Feel up to a little walk?"
Mrs Kensington glanced over at her son before meeting Summer's eyes. "I think so. Let's head to the living room." She grabbed tight to the walker, leaned forward a bit then adjusted the position of her legs.
Summer steadied the walker, keeping one hand on the gait belt wrapped snugly around the older woman's stomach.
Colton strode over, long steps eating up the distance, until he stopped by his mother's side, having deposited his mug on a nearby dresser along his path. He reached out as if to lift his mother from her seated position.
"Please don't help her, Mr Kensington," Summer instructed softly. "She can do this by herself. I've seen her."
"What if she falls?" he sniped back, his tone abrupt and a bit harsh. Lines furrowed on his face, those unus
ual eyes sparked.
A defensive expression if she ever saw one. It wasn't the first time she'd placated overly helpful family members, dealing with their anxiety and eagerness to help when the patient needed none. "I have her." She lifted a smidgen on the belt, showing her hand wrapped around the tightly knit cotton material, palm up. "I can steady her and lift, whatever is necessary, with this belt. I won't let her fall, promise."
"You're not big enough or strong enough to hold her weight if she starts to go down." He argued while pulling his hands back.
"You might be surprised." She flashed him a look full of confidence before addressing his mother. "Ready?"
Mrs Kensington took a deep breath then slowly stood, keeping her right leg straight while pushing off with the left. With only a little assistance, she managed to stand erect, both hands clasping the walker. "That's still hard, but easier than yesterday."
Summer smiled. "Each day will get easier, especially as hard as you're working." She looked up at Colton. "Thank you for wanting to help. As you can see, she can do many things by herself with just someone to stand by in case she needs assistance."
He backed up, allowing enough room for easy passage as his mother took the walker in hand, steadily moving forward, not quite putting her full weight on the surgical side. The wheels on the front of the device rotated easily on the hardwood floors. Reclaiming his cup, he watched them closely.
Summer's Night Page 1
