Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2

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Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2 Page 28

by Cross, Lindsay


  “What’s wrong?” Ranger’s sweet tone went deadly serious.

  Amy found herself surrounded by four towering men in the next second. “Check her for broken bones.”

  “Gunshot wounds?”

  “I’ve got a first aid kit in the truck.”

  She couldn’t keep up with who was saying what, all she heard was concern, for her. And for the first time since Shane came home, she felt warm. “I’m okay, really. It’s just my side.”

  “Let me see.” Ranger didn’t wait for her response but pulled up her shirt to her ribcage.

  Aaron produced a flashlight and she cringed away, the bright light hurting her eyes. “Son of a bitch.”

  She wanted to glare at Aaron, tell him to put the dang light up, but she knew how bad it looked. “I know it looks bad…”

  “That’s not bad. That’s broken,” Riser piped in.

  Amy stuck out her tongue and he just smiled in return. Ranger turned green. Then red. Then purple. Amy felt sorry for him. “Ranger, look at me. I swear, I’ll be okay.”

  Aaron lifted the light to their faces, Ranger’s gaze met hers and then his expression turned black. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Too late,” Merc said.

  Ranger reached a trembling hand to her, skimmed down her face without really touching her. “I’m so sorry. I can never forgive myself for leaving you there, with him.”

  “I asked you to leave,” Amy reminded him and tilted her face into his open palm.

  “I shouldn’t have listened. I’m sorry.” Ranger’s tone was ragged and raspy.

  Amy didn’t want or need it. “If you apologize one more time, we’re through, you hear me?”

  “Sounds like she knows what she wants,” Aaron broke in.

  “It’s Lee Brown.” Hunter approached the group.

  “Are you sure?” Riser said.

  Ranger hadn’t taken his gaze off her.

  “The one and only. What do you think he was doing meeting Shane?” Hunter said from right behind her.

  “I love you,” Ranger said and she couldn’t drag her gaze away.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered in return. The world seemed to rush around her, the lights fading as the adrenaline left her system.

  “Aaron, get that damn kit. Now.” Ranger lowered her to the ground, resting her head in his lap. “It’s okay. We will get you to the hospital.”

  Amy licked her lips, her mouth dry. “Look in his bag.”

  Hunter took off and returned a second later with the bag. He dropped it to the ground and pulled out a black frame, his face a mask of confusion.

  “Keep going.” Amy said and then coughed.

  Hunter dug in and pulled out the right frame this time. He’d shown his flashlight and a cascade of colors reflected back. “The jewels. He had them.”

  “I’ll be damned, that old villager was telling the truth.” Riser said.

  “Shane was crazy. The man that captured him turned him. He was working for someone named Al Seriq.”

  The entire group went silent and stared down at her. Amy tried to discern what they were thinking, but hadn’t a clue. All she knew was, she wanted them to quit.

  “Are you sure he said that name?” Ranger asked.

  “Yes. I remember it very distinctly. And he was supposed to give Brown the jewels in exchange for something.” Fatigue wrapped its comforting arms around her. Amy let her eyes slide shut, just for a minute.

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know, but Brown said it was on a barge a quarter mile up river.” Speaking took all her energy. She didn’t know how much longer she could resist the pull of sweet oblivion.

  “The weapons.” That was definitely Hunter’s voice. “Riser, you and Merc go check it out. I’ll call in support and Ranger and Aaron can get Amy to the hospital.”

  Amy heard footsteps, the boat crank and then Hunter talking on the phone.

  She heard Aaron unzip his first aid bag.

  She heard the crickets and the bullfrogs along the river.

  And then she heard a sound much sweeter than anything she’d ever imagined. “I love you, Amy.”

  47

  Epilogue

  Amy stood in the grass at the cemetery, holding Chloe. Ranger stood beside her, holding Arturo’s hand. All of Ranger’s team surrounded them. Hank and Maxine. Hayden. Cheri and Evie. The people Amy considered her family stood behind then as the preacher said the last rites over Pedro’s grave.

  Arturo sniffled and Ranger, without even asking, scooped him up into his arms. After a minute, Artie settled and laid his head down on Ranger’s shoulder. Amy wiped her tears and took Ranger’s hand.

  They stood together, united, one single unit. A few days after Amy came home from the hospital, Sheriff Lawson had come over with the news. He’d found Pedro’s body, a few miles from his house. Apparently, Pedro had made it a lot further than anyone thought possible with the amount of injuries he’d sustained.

  Arturo had been hysterical at first. But each day over the past two weeks, he got a little bit better. Amy and Ranger planned to give him all the love he needed to overcome this terrible loss. Together.

  After the funeral, everyone paid their condolences and left. Everyone but Hoyt and Jared Crowe, who’d gone on a separate mission a few days ago.

  Alone now, Ranger knelt at Arturo’s side and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. His big brown eyes seemed to swallow up his whole face. “Arturo, we can come here as often as you like.”

  “Why did you put him here, in this place?”

  Amy sniffled back the fresh wave of tears, shifted Chloe on her shoulder and knelt beside them. “Because, you are my family now. Pedro was my family too. And this is our plot, this is where he belongs.”

  “Do you think he can hear me?”

  “Of course I do. Your papa is up in heaven and he’s looking down on you. Watching out for you. He knows what’s in your heart.”

  “Is he in heaven with Mr. Shane?” Amy’s heart clinched and she glanced over to Shane’s gravestone, right beside Pedro’s. The now familiar mixture of anger and sadness welling up inside, thoughts that had left a permanent scar on her soul.

  They had left a scar on Ranger’s too.

  “Yes. He is,” Ranger said. Since Shane’s real death, Ranger hadn’t left her side. He’d tended to her injuries. Taken care of the kids. The house. Everything.

  “I want him back,” Arturo cried out and lunged for Ranger, crying.

  Amy watched the tender way Ranger cupped Artie’s head. The way he rocked side-to-side holding him in his arms. Ranger met her gaze and the look of adoration made her feel strong. She could do this. She could be strong for Arturo. They would be strong together.

  Arturo quieted down some after a few minutes. Amy soothed a hand down his arm as Ranger continued to rock him.

  Ranger rubbed comforting circles over Arturo’s back. “I won’t ever try to replace your father. No one can do that. But I’ll be here for you, just like your dad would want.”

  Amy took Ranger’s free hand and kissed his palm. “We will be here.”

  Ranger’s eyes watered and he cleared his throat before speaking, “That’s right. Nothing will tear us apart. We’re a family now.”

  THE END

  I hope you enjoyed Resurrection River. To ensure you don’t miss the next Men of Mercy book, receive excerpts and be entered for monthly $50 gift card drawings, sign up for exclusive emails click here

  Want to see what happens next with Jared Crowe? Keep scrolling to read an excerpt from Reckless River.

  Before you go…

  From the author: If you enjoyed reading Resurrection River, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book, too.

  Lend it: This book is lending enabled, so please, share it with a friend.

  Recommend it: Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, readers’ groups and discussion boards.

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  –Lindsay Cross

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  Reckless River: Men of Mercy Book 3

  Jared Crowe had felt the press of cold steel against his skin before, but he had never expected to feel it here, at his home. A place he hated.

  “Lookee here, I done caught me a rat.” Her voice had that hill folk lilt to it. An accent he normally found revolting, but for some reason he couldn’t define, hers sounded nice.

  Familiar.

  Jared lowered his binoculars and placed them on the ground. The cold mountain air swirled through the mist that had not yet been dispelled by the early morning sun. Dry autumn leaves crackled, stirred up every now and then by a chilled breeze. A mockingbird let out a harsh caw down in the valley below, signaling a threat to his nest.

  “Now, you keep them hands above your head and get up real nice and slow like. Don’t make me blow a hole in your head.” Okay, even if her voice was sexy, she was starting to piss him off.

  Homegrown or terrorist he didn’t care—Jared didn’t like it when gun barrels were pressed to his head.

  She stepped back and Jared pushed off the hard rocky dirt, careful to keep his arms away from his body. No need to alert her. He had time. She would look away. Blink. And then it would be over.

  “All right, you’re doing good. Now turn around.”

  Jared turned, just as slow and methodical as he had risen. Steam from his breath puffed in front of his face, but he didn’t feel the cold. And even if he had felt it, he wouldn’t have allowed it to affect him. His family had beaten any softness out of him long ago.

  They’d beaten everything out of him.

  He didn’t experience normal emotions. He knew he was broken, but he didn’t care enough to try and fix himself. It wasn’t like he had a family or wife in need of his emotional support. The only people who needed him were his brother and his unit, and a sensitive weakling would be of no use to any of them.

  Maybe that’s why he found it so easy to smile at the woman in front of him, who was holding a shotgun as long as she was tall. “You fire that gun and it’ll knock you on your ass, girl.”

  A wide-brimmed floppy leather hat obscured half her features, and damned if her clothes gave away any indication of her actual age. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up in her daddy’s clothes. Loose baggy jeans, baggy shirt, and a worn-out leather vest. He’d died and gone to hillbilly hell.

  But her lush, tempting lips were all woman. Then she lifted her chin and he saw her eyes. Awareness sucker punched him and he drew in a small breath. Her eyes, the amber color of pure mountain whiskey. He’d known one girl—one person in his entire life—with those exotic gold eyes. “Sparrow.”

  She blinked and steadied the butt of her shotgun against her shoulder, keeping a safe distance from him. “How do you know my name? What are you? You ain’t no cop and you ain’t no DEA. Them boys don’t wear the camo like you got on.”

  Camouflage paint completely covered his face, and a black do rag was tied tight and flat against his head. She wouldn’t be able to recognize him in his war paint, not after all these years, and maybe that was for the best. He could reveal his identity later, take her by surprise and rip that gun out of her hands before she shot herself with it.

  “You’re right, I’m not any type of law enforcement. If I were, you’d be a lot safer than you are right now.” Jared made his voice menacing. Even allowed a little bit of his old accent to slip in. Let her know she wasn’t dealing with some yuppie from the city who didn’t know his way around the back woods.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’ll keep that information to myself for now.” While he figured out the best course of action. He had no intention of harming this girl. She’d been the only one to show him kindness after his parents’ death all those years ago. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use her to get into his aunt and uncle’s compound.

  “If you won’t tell me, you’ll have to tell them.” She gestured past his shoulder. Jared glanced in that direction and spied two very large armed men.

  A normal man would probably be scared.

  But Jared hadn’t felt fear in over a decade. He turned back to face Sparrow and gave her a wink. “Too bad, I was looking forward to getting to know you better.”

  Her eyes widened, her lips parted. She ducked her head, quickly obscuring her features with that monstrosity of a hat. But not before he’d seen the surprise. The fear.

  Jared waited, calm and patient. He knew what it was to be feared. He waited for her hands to shake and tremble. Waited for her to back up a step and realize how close to danger she really was. But she didn’t. She lifted her chin once more and those warm amber eyes flashed cold. “Jimbo, Bob, I caught me a spy.”

  As if to dare him, she stepped forward and placed her gun within his reach. If they’d been alone, he would have yanked it away from her. But not with two more guns pointed at his back

  “You’re going to get to know me. Real, real good.”

  To finish reading Jared and Sparrow’s story click here: Reckless River: Men of Mercy Book 3

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  Also by Lindsay Cross

  Redemption River: Men of Mercy Book 1

  Resurrection River: Men of Mercy Book 2

  Reckless River: Men of Mercy Book 3

  David: Men of Mercy Book 4

  Raylan: Men of Mercy Book 5

  Ravaged River: Men of Mercy Book 6

 

 

 


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