by Liliana Hart
They got back in the Jeep, driving down the gentle slope that led toward the ocean.
“Why was Jenson Walker here with Taber?” Max asked. “Of all the intel we have, Taber has never taken on a partner before.”
“He’s never had a target guarded by trained operatives inside a compound. He had to make adjustments.”
“Jesus, I can’t see shit. He could be right on top of us. We need to move faster. I don’t have a good feeling in my gut. Something is wrong.”
“Leave me here,” Jade said a little while later. “I can wedge myself on the other side of that larger rock there. He’ll never see me.”
“You’ll be in the water. Some of those waves will go over your head.” Evangeline was worried. Really worried. Her color wasn’t good and she was nodding in and out of consciousness. “The rocks are smooth the farther away they are from the water. There’s nothing to hide behind. Our only option is up. Get on my back.”
Jade tried to laugh but she didn’t have the energy. “I’m a good six or seven inches taller than you. That’s not going to work.”
“Let’s go, Debbie Downer.” Evie kept watch on the horizon, looking for Taber to appear out of nothing right in front of them. “You’re not going to quit on my watch. If we can make up to that ledge right there then I think we’ll be hidden well enough without having to go down into the cove.”
“Just give me a boost.” She pulled herself to her feet and placed her hands on the rocks.
Evie laced her fingers and braced herself for Jade’s weight. She didn’t think the other woman would have the upper body strength to pull herself up on the rocks, but she dug in and gathered resolve from somewhere because her fingers bit into the rocks and the muscles in her arms flexed as she pulled herself up.
Salt spray stung her eyes and wet ropes of hair felt like whips against her face as she climbed up behind Jade. The other woman half crawled, half dragged herself the rest of the way to the rougher rocks toward the top that hadn’t been worn smooth from crashing waves.
Evie had to give it to her, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to keep going if she’d been in a similar situation. She leaned down to help her get adjusted and scoot in so there was room for her as well.
“I shot one of them, so you only have to worry about the one. I think I’m pretty close to passing out.”
The blood was flowing freely from her shoulder again and she tightened the bandage as best she could. The bullet was still inside her. There was no exit wound as far as she could see.
“Take this,” Jade said, handing her the extra Glock. “Call in and let them know where we are. Max is going to be frantic.” And with that Jade slowly faded out of consciousness, until her head slumped to the side and rested against the rocks.
“Christ, get it together, Evangeline. Everything is going to be fine.” She stood up and fumbled for the phone in her pocket to check in with Cal, and that’s when the bullet ricocheted off the rock next to her.
She lost her footing and tumbled back down to the sand, scraping her knee along the way. The gun fell from her grasp and landed in the sand a few feet away and the phone went in the other direction. She scrambled for the gun just as another bullet hit the rocks.
He must have gotten a glimpse of her when she’d stood up, but she didn’t think he could see her at clearly at the moment. His shots were wild, and she figured he was probably trying to get her to run. But the only place to run was toward him.
Her hand grasped the gun and the weight felt good in her hand, and she kept low, squatting at the bottom of the rocks and waiting. Just waiting. In her mind she knew this wasn’t personal. It was a job. Plain and simple. Victor Taber didn’t know her other than what he’d done to study her habits, just like he did for any job. But it sure as hell felt personal when she was dodging his bullets.
A steady stream of fire came from somewhere in front of her, and she hoped to God Jade was well hidden so she didn’t get caught in the crossfire. Evie knew her options and time were up. She could either sit there and wait for him to kill her with a lucky shot, or she could fire back in the general direction she thought the bullets were coming from, maybe giving herself enough cover to move close enough to see him. She’d never been one to wait and let the action happen to her.
Another bullet hit the rocks about ten feet over her head and she took a last deep breath and started firing. She immediately started moving at a fast pace, and she said every prayer she knew along the way, waiting for the moment when she ran straight into him.
She didn’t know if it was an act of God or good luck, she wasn’t one to question, but the rain slowed and the fog cleared just enough—a split second of time—for Taber’s silhouette to be visible. She didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. There was no second-guessing in a life or death situation. She just pulled the trigger until the magazine was empty. And then she released it and popped in another just to be safe.
As fast as it stopped, the rain started again with a fierce gust of wind, the fog rolling off the ocean and onto the shore. Her heart pounded and the rain and salt stung her eyes. She wore only her sports bra since she’d given her shirt to Jade, and a thin pair of shorts. She wasn’t exactly at her best. But she was alive. And that counted for something.
A Jeep slammed to a stop only feet from her, and she stared at it in wide-eyed shock, trying to process who was there and why. Cal and Max both jumped from the vehicle and she let the gun drop to her side.
“Jesus, Evie,” Cal said, grabbing her in a bear hug and burying his face in her neck. She was shaking. Or maybe that was him.
“Jade,” Max said. “Where is she?”
“She needs help,” she said, pulling back from Cal and leading the way toward the rocks where Jade was hidden. “She took one in the shoulder and lost some blood.”
“Christ.” Max climbed the rocks with ease until he found Jade. “She’s unconscious but she’s got a pulse.”
“Do you need help getting her down?”
“I’m going to hand her off to you at the bottom and then I’ll get her to the hospital. The bleeding has turned sluggish and her pulse is strong, but she’s going to need a couple pints. And the bullet is still in there from what I can tell. I didn’t find an exit wound.”
Max lifted Jade and climbed down as best he could with her tucked under one arm, and when he reached the lowest ledge he handed her gently down to Cal. They got her loaded in the Jeep, Max saluted goodbye, and then they sped away.
“She’ll be okay?” Evie asked as they made their way back toward the house. She couldn’t wait to get out of the rain. In fact, she would be okay if she never saw rain again.
“She’ll be fine. Jade’s tough. She’s been through worse than that.”
Her legs were shaking uncontrollably by the time she walked back up the ramp to the house, and she sat down hard on the deck as soon as she got under the covered area. Cal sat next to her and pulled her into his lap.
“You scared the hell out of me. The closer we got all I could hear was gunfire. It sounded like a war zone.”
“It felt like one.” She laid her head against his shoulder and he held her while her body processed the adrenaline and her shaking subsided.
“I love you,” he said. “You know that, right? I’ve loved you for a long time. We were meant to be together. Work together. Love together. Do you trust me to keep loving you?”
She looked up and touched his cheek gently, gazing into the blue of his eyes. “For most of my life there’s been one person who took the time to invest in me—even when we were stupid kids with no sense of self-preservation between us. You’ve always had my back. I know that. And I know that you love me.”
She kissed him softly. “I love you, too. Have loved only you since I was old enough to know what those feelings were. So yes, I trust you. To love me, to work beside me, and to live with me. For as long as we both shall live.”
“Are you proposing to me, sugar?”
“I
figure it’s my turn to lay out the rules of the game this time.”
“How about we negotiate,” he said, nipping at her lip, the wicked look in his eyes sending her hormones into overdrive.
“Why don’t we,” she agreed.
EPILOGUE
* * *
Surrender, Montana
The Fourth of July was something the MacKenzies celebrated in full force. For more than a hundred years, people from the community joined them on the back lawns of the original MacKenzie homestead.
The home had been added to over the years, so it was a mishmash of rooms sprawling in all directions. But the purpose of the house had stayed the same through all that time—it was a home built for family—to be the center of births, weddings, and deaths. Good and prosperous times, and the not so good.
To the MacKenzies, family was the core of what they were. And between John and James MacKenzie, they’d managed to continue on the line with nine children between them—eight boys and a girl. And those children had done a pretty damned good job of ensuring the MacKenzie legacy by marrying and producing children of their own. A lot of children.
The homestead had passed down from generation to generation, and it was Thomas and Cat MacKenzie who resided there now. To the MacKenzies, tradition meant everything, so picnic tables were brought out of storage and washed and scrubbed. Plastic tablecloths were set out, gallons of tea were made, and streamers and lanterns were strung from the oak trees.
A stage was constructed for the band and stakes were driven into the ground so horseshoes could be played by the men while the women rocked babies in the shade and talked about the same things that women for hundreds of years had been talking about.
“Boys, you’re putting those picnic tables too close together,” Mary MacKenzie called out from the back porch. A woman didn’t raise five children and not know how to speak so she could be heard. “We’ll all be sitting in each other’s laps if you don’t spread them out some.”
“Five seconds ago they were too far apart,” Cade said, but he and Declan scooted them out some just as their mother had asked.
“And five seconds from now I’m going to take a strap to your backside, Cade MacKenzie. Don’t you sass me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said to the snickers of his brothers and cousins.
“Another tradition fulfilled,” Grant said. “Cade is always the first to get yelled at every holiday.”
Of the five siblings, he was the most laid back and cautious. Nothing much riled him up, and it was often said he moved slower than a lame duck in winter when he was thinking something over, but that’s just because he wanted to make sure he made the right decisions.
Cade and Declan put down the picnic table, and then before Grant could blink Cade rushed him and hit him around the middle with his shoulder, lifting him up in a fireman’s carry. There were hoots of laughter as Grant went flying into the lake, landing with a splash.
“That’s a tradition too,” Cade said, grinning. “You make it so easy, brother.”
Grant treaded water where he was and squinted up at his brother. “My best sunglasses are at the bottom of the lake. You either find them or get me another pair.”
“You mean these sunglasses.” Cade held them up with a smile. “The spoils of war.”
Declan and their cousin Cooper flanked Cade from behind on either side and Cade grinned at the implication. It had been a while since he’d had a good fight. Maybe when they’d all gotten together at Christmas.
“Boys,” Mary MacKenzie yelled from the porch.
But it was too late. Declan and Cooper rushed him at the same time, the sunglasses went flying, and all three of them went into the lake. Sometimes you had to sacrifice yourself to bring a man down. It was all worth it in the end.
“Just a bunch of overgrown children,” Darcy said, shaking her head. As the youngest of the five and the only girl, she’d had a lot of experience watching the mayhem unfold. She’d also thrown her share of first punches, so it wasn’t like she was completely innocent either.
The women started to gather around to watch and place bets—the wives making sure to put their money on their husbands—and Thomas came around the side of the house and said, “I brought my medical bag just in case. And I’m not using anesthesia on anyone who needs stitches. Serves you right.”
“Way to uphold that whole Hippocratic Oath thing,” Sophia said, wincing as a fist glanced off her husband’s jaw. Declan didn’t let punches get past him very often and he was going to be pissed at whoever made contact. Thomas would need that medical bag before it was all over.
“Aunt Mary is going to be so mad,” Dane said, putting his arm around his wife Charlotte and watching the fight. “I’ve got twenty on Cade. He’s got a newborn, so he hasn’t had sex in a while. He’ll have a lot of frustrations to get out.”
He mmmphed as his wife’s elbow made contact with his ribs, but just grabbed her closer in a bear hug and squeezed until she started laughing.
“I’ll take your twenty and double it to put on Declan,” Sophia said. “A newborn means no sleep, so he’s weak.”
“We have three hundred people showing up in the next couple of hours and this is what they decide to do,” Mary said. “I’ll say this for them. They’re consistent. This is the reason Jim and I travel all the time.” She wiped her hands on her apron and shook her head. “I’ve got to get inside and make potato salad for the masses. Don’t let them track through the house wet. They can strip down in the barn like they did when they were kids.”
She turned to head back toward the house, but she stopped in her tracks. Tears flooded her eyes before she could stop them, and she blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. Being a mother was difficult. Being a mother to honorable, testosterone driven men was only accomplished through the will of God.
Shane sat in his wheelchair at the top of the grassy hill next to the house, the doctor Declan had hired standing behind him. She couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but Declan had assured her she was the best there was. At that moment in time, Mary could’ve kissed the ground she walked on for getting him there in the first place.
Her youngest son had given her a lifetime of worry. He’d always kept himself separated from the pack, wanting to go his own way. He’d been so sweet as a child, but had been in a hurry to shed it so he could keep up with his brothers. He was quicker to start a fight and hit harder. And he was stubborn as a mule. He got that from his father.
She’d been as proud as any mother could be when he’d joined the Navy and then become a SEAL, but she’d seen the change in him over time. The hardness and cynicism that had become as much a part of him as the color of his hair or eyes.
He’d come back from missions battered and bruised and silent, acclimating to being at home or around civilians again, and he’d sit for hours in silence. She knew there were wounds that could never be healed on her son. But she prayed daily the wounds would fade into scars and that he could see another future—another path.
Her husband came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder in support, and she noticed the fight had stopped in the water and everyone’s attention was focused on Shane.
He stared straight ahead—stoic—and she was afraid if anyone said or did the wrong thing then he’d get up out of that chair and bolt, missing leg or no. Physically he looked better than the last time she’d seen him. He was gaining weight and that awful hollowness in his face had filled out some. He was clean and he wore old jeans that covered the injuries on his good leg, and he’d folded and pinned the other leg so it stopped just below the knee.
Mary squeezed her husband’s hand and called out, “Shane MacKenzie it’s about time you got here. I could use some help. We’ve got a million people showing up and your brothers are playing in the water like fools.
For a moment she thought he’d spin his wheelchair in the opposite direction and go back to his cabin. The boys climbed out of the lake and started stripping down to the underw
ear on the dock, and Shane just stared at them in silence.
“You guys are getting old,” Shane said. She wasn’t sure who was more surprised he spoke aloud—him or his brothers and cousins. “Five years ago it would’ve been a cold day in hell before y’all let Grant get in punches like that. Nice shot on Cade’s eye though, Grant. He didn’t even see it coming.”
Grant groaned and shot Shane the middle finger.
“That was you?” Cade asked, narrowing his eyes at Grant.
“Thanks a lot Shane,” Grant called out. “You always were a tattletale.”
“Nah. I just like to stir shit up.” Shane undid the brakes on his wheelchair and slowly started making his way down the hill toward them.
Mary didn’t realize she was crying until her husband placed a handkerchief in her hand and squeezed her fingers around it. It was going to be a good day.
Shane had done his duty.
He’d done what Shaw had asked and spent the day with his family. He’d put up with small talk and a million questions from people he didn’t really give a damn about, and he’d done a good job, in his opinion, of not punching anyone in the face who annoyed him. But from the number of dirty looks he’d gotten from Shaw maybe he hadn’t done such a good job after all.
The one thing he’d been adamant about was being back home in his cabin by the time the fireworks started. He didn’t particularly want to be in a crowded place when it got dark and explosions started going off overhead. The citizens of Surrender didn’t need a free show to go with the fireworks.
He turned his wheelchair and started heading back up the hill, away from the crush of people marking their territory with picnic blankets, and ignored his brother when he called out after him.
“I know you can hear me,” Declan said as he came up beside his wheelchair.
“Yep. I’m just choosing to ignore you.”
Declan snorted out a laugh and angled himself so Shane would have to physically move him out of the way.
