Blair's Lost and Found Men

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Blair's Lost and Found Men Page 3

by Eileen Green


  Brock took a seat in the nearest chair at the large table they had fashioned together with smaller ones. Tanner followed suit and sat to his right. As they took seats at the end of the tables closest to the front door, Connor sat at the head of the table next to Brock, and Jared guided their former woman into the seat across from Tanner. When Glen navigated Victoria to the seat beside Martha, their Martha, Jared moved around and seated himself on the other side of Tanner. Gina perched next to Jared.

  Their Martha kept her head lowered, in shame, Brock hoped.

  All the other partygoers filed in and took their seats around the table. Some had to utilize the booths. Everyone was quiet, looking at them expectantly.

  “Now, would someone like to explain why my wife’s birthday party was interrupted?” Connor asked harshly.

  Yup! I’m going to be out of a job come morning!

  “When we lived in Texas, we met Martha. It wasn’t long before we fell in love,” Tanner began.

  “We dated for a year before we proposed to her. Then one afternoon.” Brock’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I was living in an apartment in town, but still worked on the family ranch. I just needed some independence. Anyway, I found a note on the counter with Martha’s engagement ring lying on top of it. All she wrote was, ‘I have to leave.’ That was all. Nothing else. No I’m sorry, kiss my ass. Nothing!”

  Martha, their Martha, flinched at the harshness with which he spoke. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and he knew that he and Tanner were correct. She was their former woman. But why did she fake her death?

  “Blair,” Connor began. “Is what Brock and Tanner saying true?”

  Everyone’s attention was on Martha/Blair. Why did she change her name?

  Silence filled the room. Even the babies and children were quiet.

  Without looking up, Martha asked, “May I have a glass of water, please?”

  Tanya jumped up and moved to the counter. She poured a glass of water and brought it back to Martha, who emptied the glass and set it on the table in front of her.

  Brock looked around at everyone, his gaze landing on Gina. His heart broke. They had interrupted her night. It was her birthday, and they had ruined it.

  “Connor,” he said quietly. “Why don’t we let everyone get their food? I’m sure everyone’s hungry.”

  “Of course. Let’s get the festivities started, and then we can talk,” Connor spoke but didn’t get up.

  Martha was still looking down at the table, her eyes not rising for anything.

  Glen moved over to the counter, filled two plates of food and brought them back to the table, setting one down in front of Martha, and one in front of his wife. He returned to the counter and got a plate for himself and then sat next to Virginia.

  Although it was her birthday, Gina brought a plate over for both her husbands, and then went back for a plate for her son, Nathan and herself.

  Once everyone save Brock and Tanner had a plate in front of them, Connor asked, “So, Blair, can you tell us what’s going on? Are Brock and Tanner telling the truth?”

  Her voice was small and soft when she answered, “Yes.”

  Twenty years of mourning her. Twenty years of heartache. All was for naught.

  Brock wanted to yell at her. Scream at her. However, all he was able to choke out was, “Why?”

  His heart was in his throat as the anticipation of hearing her answer rose within him. Had she fallen in love with someone else? Had she run away with him?

  * * * *

  Blair felt cornered. The urge to flee was great.

  All eyes were upon her. She didn’t have to look up to see them, she could feel them.

  Since this entire mess began, she hated to be the center of attention, for if anyone focused on her for too long, they would know the truth. Now, the truth would be told for the first time in twenty-seven years.

  “My name is Marina De La Cruz. I’m originally from New York City. When I was sixteen, I witnessed the murder of my entire family by a drug lord from South America. My uncle had married his niece, but apparently one night, men broke into his home and raped and murdered my aunt and stole all the drugs and money my uncle had hidden away.

  “I was spending the night at a friend’s house down the street, but I went back to get some of my cassettes, so we could listen to them. I sneaked in the back door and saw the drug lord shooting my mom and dad in the back of the head as they knelt on the floor in the living room. My brother was screaming his head off as the man had made him face our parents. The man then moved around and shot my brother, and then my uncle.

  “The police found me hiding in the small closet space under the stairs. I guess the neighbors called them. When I went to testify at the trial, a woman told me that if I did, I was going to be dead just like my family. I told my attorney what had been said, and before I could really comprehend what was happening, I was in police custody. A nice woman came in and said she was with the U.S. Marshal’s. They were going to take me away and put me in a special program.”

  “Are you in the witness protection program?” one of the men in a suit asked. He had dark blond hair with streaks of sunlight through it, and his eyes were the most interesting color. They looked like amber, or a dark yellow. She had never seen anyone with eyes that color before, and she had to wonder if he wore contacts.

  Then, as if he needed to identify himself, he pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. Gina took it from him and handed it over to Blair, who looked at it carefully. The need to trust people who verbally identified themselves and didn’t prove it could be deadly.

  “I’m Lawrence Whitaker with the FBI, Blair. I had been warned that someone in the area was in the program, but we aren’t told who. It’s a precaution in case something happens, and we need to step in again.”

  Blair handed his wallet back to Gina across the table, who gave it back to Agent Whitaker. She was careful not to look over in Brock or Tanner’s direction, knowing if she did, she would want to run again. She would put them in danger. No, she had already put them all in danger. By tomorrow morning, she was going to be on the road again, provided a name change, and begin a new life.

  Lowering her eyes again, she went on. “I was given a new name, aged by two years, and sent to New Orleans. I lived there for a little over four years, but the Marshals came and said my identity had been compromised. From there, I was sent to Sweetwater.”

  A sob escaped her, one she couldn’t hold back. “I went by the name of Martha Brady. I fell in love with two brothers even though I knew I shouldn’t have. I mean, in this life, how can I have a life of my own? I can’t love or have children. I’ll never have grandchildren. There will always be a part of me looking over my shoulder.”

  Sniffing, she said the words she had thought in her head so many times since that awful night. “I should have just let them kill me, because they’ve taken my life away from me anyway.”

  “That’s not true, Blair,” Gina said sadly. “We all love you. You have a slew of friends here that will do everything they can to protect you.”

  Shaking her head, Blair contradicted her. “No. People die if they are close to me. That was the mistake I made in New Orleans. A friend of mine was killed, all because she knew me. I can’t let that happen again.”

  Brock cleared his throat nervously. Glancing up at him, she found him looking at Tanner, their facial muscles twitching. She knew enough about these brothers that they had a communication all their own by using their faces.

  “What happened in Sweetwater after I left?” she inquired, not wanting to know the answer. Both men were silent. “Tell me!”

  Tanner looked down at the table, unable to look her in the eye. “Your landlord was murdered a couple of days after you left.” He wiggled a bit in his chair. “The police came to see Brock to see if you might have known who might have wanted to harm Mrs. Wilkins, but we had to tell them we didn’t.”

  Guilt stabbed at Blair’s hear
t. The woman was so kind. She would bring meals to Blair when she felt as if she wasn’t getting enough to eat. Occasionally, they would sit and play cards in the afternoons before Blair went to meet up with the Tillman brothers. It hurt to think that the woman suffered because of her.

  Knowing that the lawmen at the table wouldn’t be satisfied without hearing the rest of her tale, Blair continued, returning her gaze to the table before her.

  “From Texas, I went to Sacramento. I was given a job in a library. It was perfect because I didn’t have to talk to a lot of people. I didn’t socialize at all. I didn’t have friends. It broke my heart when I had to leave Sweetwater, so it was best I kept to myself.” She cleared her throat. “Then one day, the agents came to get me again. I was surprised that I was still on the radar. Apparently, someone recognized me from an old newspaper clipping and I was being shipped off again. That’s when I came here.”

  She looked over at Glen, tears filling her eyes again. “Thank you for giving me a job, Glen. I really appreciate it. But I guess this means I’m turning in my notice now.”

  “Nonsense,” the man fumed as he stood. “You will not be leaving here! This is your home. We are your family now. We protect our own.”

  “And if you had stuck around, we would have told you the same thing,” Brock said, this time not as angrily.

  Giving in, she looked into the man’s green eyes. They reminded her of new grass in the spring, and she remembered them getting darker when he was aroused. Within their depths, she could see that he was telling the truth, but she couldn’t do anything when the agent came to get her. She had to go.

  Shifting her gaze, she met the sad hazel eyes of Tanner. To think that both of those eyes that danced with merriment before could be unblinking and dead hurt her heart.

  “I can’t. Mr. Whitaker can tell you, there’s no way I can stay here.” She looked over at Lawrence.

  Lyndee, the woman who used to be an FBI agent stood and came around the table. She knelt between Blair and Connor and placed her hand on Blair’s forearm. “Sweetie, I came to this town three and a half years ago because I had been kidnapped by a deranged pimp that I had the misfortune of working for while I was undercover. I got amnesia, and these kind people took me in even though they didn’t know who I was. They took on the Russian mob for me.”

  “They fought against the Irish mob when my ex-fiancé came to take me home,” Siobhan added, the woman with Irish accent.

  Brooke, the woman who had brought jobs to Kalispell, spoke next. “When I had been kidnapped by a white slavery group, these people, people who I never met in my entire life, came forward and worked to free me and a group of kids. They risked their own lives to make sure we made it back to our families.”

  “Some of us don’t have such elaborate stories to tell,” Amanda, a nurse in the hospital in Kalispell, said. “But I have seen these people at their finest. They have such big hearts to love with and a desire to help those in need. Please, let them help you.”

  She slid her gaze around to everyone at the large table. They were all watching her. Some nodded their agreement of what had been said, and some muttered that they would help. But none of them looked at her with disdain.

  Her gaze finally settled on Brock and Tanner. Remorse was in their eyes, and if she was reading it properly, love.

  Chapter Three

  Tanner couldn’t believe the story Martha/Blair had told. She had been on the run all this time to stay alive. The note she had left was written out of love, for she didn’t want to see any harm come to them. How could he turn his back on her now? The least they could do was be friends with her.

  Martha, no. It was Blair now. She had been Blair a lot longer than she had been Martha.

  Blair’s fear reverberated through the diner. Everyone was looking at her with concern, surprise, and sympathy. Although Glen and Gina were still giving him and Brock the evil eye.

  Clearing his throat, he finally spoke with heartfelt remorse. “Mart…sorry, Blair, I want to apologize for chasing you. When I first saw you, and then you took off, I thought you were leaving us again, and I couldn’t stand it if that happened again without knowing why you left in the first place. I’m sorry.”

  “I am, too,” Brock added, his head lowered in guilt.

  “I don’t blame you. I probably would have done the same thing with the circumstances.” Blair looked over at Gina. “I’m sorry I was the reason your birthday was interrupted.”

  “Oh, please!” Gina exclaimed. “You added some excitement. What would an event be here in Polson without a mystery and impending doom?”

  The place erupted in laughter and then chatter as everyone began to eat. Lyndee remained where she was next to Blair.

  “We’ll need some information from you about your past, so we can put a plan into action. But I promise you. We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe, so you can stay here, if you want to.”

  Blair looked at Tanner. He could see her fear, but he also could see her love for them. Twenty years might have passed, but there were still feelings for all three of them. He had to wonder if they could pick up where they had left off. For him and Brock, their love had never waned even though they had thought she had perished. However, they didn’t know how she would feel about starting up again.

  Without her looking away from Tanner and Brock, Blair replied, “I want to stay here. I’m tired of running, and I have made so many friends.”

  “Then, we’ll get together in the morning to see what we can do.” Lyndee stood as she spoke. “Now, you helped make the food. The least you can do is enjoy it and have fun with your friends.”

  On that last note, Lyndee had moved her gaze over to Tanner and Brock. Tanner had to wonder if she was including them in the “friend” part.

  Next to Tanner, Connor stabbed a piece of brisket with his fork. Without looking at him and his brother, Connor said, “You are two lucky men. And you have a second chance. Don’t blow it.”

  Tanner wasn’t quite sure what his boss was trying to say, but he had to agree with being lucky. They were lucky that she really wasn’t dead. But could they risk another relationship with her when her life was up in the air? Only time would tell.

  * * * *

  Blair was beginning to feel relaxed, especially since Lyndee had come to talk to her. However, before Lyndee could rise, the door opened, and two large state patrol officers stepped in, immediately removing their hats.

  They were nearly as big as Tanner and Brock, but then again, most of the men in this room were tall and muscular. Since she didn’t know them, she grasped Lyndee’s arm to communicate in a nonverbal way that she wanted the woman to stay with her.

  Everyone turned or glanced up to see who had come in, for it seemed as if everyone was here. Otherwise, Glen wouldn’t have had everyone begin eating. A gasp sounded from a woman from the other end of the table, yet Blair wasn’t about to look to see who it came from.

  Connor stood as did Brian Hawthorne, and Tanya’s husbands, Derek Hanson and Chase Daniels, the last three being fellow officers to the new arrivals. Stepping forward, Connor extended his hand to the gentlemen.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m the sheriff of Lake County, Connor Lawson. How can we help you?”

  “I’m Officer Hunter Simpson, and this is Officer Trent Blake. We had a complaint about two men chasing a woman down the street. The witness said they followed them here.”

  Officer Simpson was the taller of the two. He must have been about six one or two. He was muscular, but not like Blair’s men. She knew Brock and Tanner’s came from hard work on a ranch, or at least she thought they still worked on one. Simpson had dirty blond hair that was cut short along with a goatee. His eyes were a navy blue, nearly black.

  Officer Blake was about six feet, with dark chocolate-brown hair that was a little long as it curled around his ears and along the back of his neck. He was clean-shaven, and he had gray eyes. His gaze wasn’t on Connor, but on someone at the end of
the table, perhaps the one who gasped. Was it possible whoever he was looking at had had a brush with the law?

  Brian Hawthorne moved around until he was standing next to Officer Blake’s side. “Hunter, Trent, good to see you,” he began. “Tonight, we’re having a birthday party for Sheriff Connor’s wife. One of the women had mistakenly thought she saw someone who had hurt her in the past and ran out the back door. The two men who were running after her were afraid she was going to get hurt, especially since she was running toward the highway. They caught up with her, and they brought her back here. As you can see, everything is kosher here.”

  “Who’s the woman?” Officer Blake asked.

  Blair noticed he had an accent that didn’t fit in around here. It sounded as if he was from Brooklyn. She had lived in Queens with her family. It did set off warning bells in her head, but she couldn’t panic every time she heard a New York accent.

  Swallowing hard, and not wanting Tanner and Brock to get in trouble, she raised her hand. “That was me, Officers. Brock and Tanner looked like someone I knew a long time ago that had hurt me. I was wrong. I’m sorry that you were inconvenienced.”

  Officer Simpson nodded. “I’m sorry to have bothered y’all. Happy Birthday to the birthday girl.”

  He had a Texas accent. Blair was getting nervous. However, if Connor trusted the duo, then she would have to give them the benefit of the doubt.

  “Thank you,” Gina piped up.

  “Why you’re here, you might as well as get some food,” Glen offered. “We have plenty.”

  Both men looked at Brian as if seeking his approval. “Sure. Join us,” Brian said as he shook both men’s hands.

  “There’s free space down here,” Gwen said quickly, a bit too joyfully.

  “Thank you,” both men said in unison as they moved over to the counter.

  Blair noticed that Brock and Tanner hadn’t gotten up to get food. Before she could say something, Lyndee patted her shoulder. “Sweetie, are you all right?”

 

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