by Eileen Green
“And we’re really glad we didn’t get rid of it. It was fate that brought you to us again, and we want it to grace your finger again,” Tanner added. “However, there is a condition that comes along with this.”
She looked at him and then Brock. “What’s the condition?”
“No matter what happens, if you must leave, we will be going with you,” Brock answered. “There is no way we will let you go without us.”
Her heart was filled with love from these two men. She didn’t know why she was so lucky to have them in her life again, but she wasn’t going to blow this.
“I accept the condition,” she said with a straight face. Then, she smiled. “I want to marry both of you.”
“Yippee!” Tanner exclaimed.
“Thank you, sweetness. I’m so glad to have you back,” Brock said as he took the ring out of the box. With shaky fingers, he placed it on her ring finger. “Now, it’s back where it belongs.”
Brock raised her hand and kissed the ring. Blair couldn’t believe how romantic these two cowboys had become, but she was going to enjoy it.
Chapter Nine
“Son of a bitch!” Brock shouted as the steer he was trying to corral sidestepped and crashed into him. His horse was already up against the rails, but with the cow pressing in from the other side, Brock’s leg was pinned tight. Pain shot through him.
He was trapped in a bad predicament as the animal didn’t want to move away from him. Tanner came over and roped the steer’s horns. He wrapped the other end around the saddle horn on his horse and then tried to back up. It didn’t work.
With each movement from the cow, Brock’s leg shifted, sparking more pain. Jace, one of the hands, lassoed the bull’s horns, and he and Tanner were pulling from different directions. Finally, the over half-ton beast moved, charging at the other ranch hand’s horse.
Brock reined his horse over to the gate, every movement sheer agony. The gate was opened and then closed behind him by a hand and then that hand helped Brock down. As soon as he was standing on his good leg, Brock tried to step with the leg that had been hurt.
Pain zipped up through his body as his leg crumpled beneath him. Grasping for something, anything to keep from falling, he came up empty-handed. A groan escaped him as he tumbled down into the dirt.
Men came rushing over to him from different directions, all calling out to him. It took longer for Tanner to arrive as he had to be let out the gate. Brock watched him jump down from his horse and run over. He crouched down.
“Brock, are you okay?” he asked, his voice frantic with concern. “What hurts?”
“My leg, damn it!” Brock snapped, not meaning to. The pain was excruciating. “I think I may have broken it.”
Tanner looked around and began issuing orders. “Sam, get the pickup. Dale, call Connor and let him know what’s going on. Jace, help me get him up. We’re taking him into the clinic to get checked out.”
Dale and Sam rushed away from the area to do Tanner’s bidding. With Jace and Tanner’s help, Brock was up and on one foot. It was slowgoing, but they made it through the maze of corrals and the cattle barn and out to the road where Sam was waiting with the truck.
The vehicle was too high to get into without trying to get into a seat and hurting his leg too much, so Sam ran and got some horse blankets and laid them down in the bed of the truck. All three men helped Brock until he was lying on the blankets with several packed under his injured leg to keep it elevated.
Dale was now standing next to the truck. Brock looked at him. “You’re in charge, Dale, until we get back. We’ll keep you posted.”
Tanner climbed up and sat next to his brother, worry on his features. “Should we tell Blair?” he asked.
Brock thought for a moment. “I don’t want her anywhere that will lessen her security. She’ll understand,” Brock explained, wishing she could be at his side.
When Tanner pounded twice on the bed of the truck, Sam took off, heading into Polson.
* * * *
The flight didn’t go as planned. The airport in the city they needed to land in was experiencing a power outage. Even though the airport was supposed to be closed due to noise ordinances, they were going to feign mechanical issues and land anyway. Without the lights on the landing strips, there was no way to touchdown in the dark when you couldn’t see the ground.
Being so close to Canada, they needed to figure out where to go so they didn’t cross the border. The pilot changed course again and flew south. They landed in a place called Missoula, which was closed for the night also. However, it gave the pilot enough time to mess with the wiring on the instrument panel to give the illusion of problems.
It was morning before they could rent a car, so they had a massive late start. It had been Catalina’s wish to be in and out of Polson with their target before sun up to avoid being seen.
The man, Diego, who had accompanied her might not be anything to look at. In fact, he was a scary-looking man with a large scar from his right ear to about an inch away from the corner of his mouth. Pockmarks from a childhood disease marred his neck and arms, while a scar from a bullet sat in his left bicep. Several healed ragged lines on both forearms were testament of a knife fight. Catalina had to wonder if he had won or lost.
Diego was outwardly rude to Catalina. He was loyal to his boss, not her. She understood his stance, but she was going to prove to everyone involved that she had what it took to take over her father’s empire.
His knowledge of the dark web was going to be an asset. He had discovered a post that indicated Maria Garcia, one of Blair’s former aliases, had been found and that he would be taking care of her within the next couple of days. When Diego had inquired where she was, the mysterious man had said Montana.
Catalina had been right to look at that slut’s ex-fiancé. Now, she was still going to go after the man. Perhaps she could take the woman down instead of having to put out a half a mil to someone.
* * * *
Connor was pacing back and forth in front of the doors to the clinic. Dale had said that Brock had possibly broken his leg, and he rushed right over. He hadn’t thought about how long it would take for them to get there, so he had arrived thirty minutes ago.
When he saw the truck with the ranch’s emblem on the side, he rushed in the door of the clinic and grabbed a wheelchair. He was out at the curb by the time they stopped.
Walking to the passenger side doors, Connor was surprised when Tanner sat up in the bed of the truck. “Back here, boss,” Tanner said as he moved to the tailgate. By the time Connor got back there, the back end was down, and Tanner was pulling Brock toward it on some blankets.
Tanner helped Connor get Brock into the wheelchair and was pushing his brother into the clinic. Connor watched them go in. He was concerned because Brock had barely made a sound while they were handling him. Was it possible the man was in shock?
“Boss?” Sam called from the driver’s seat.
Connor turned to look at him. “Yeah?”
“Do you want me to wait around?”
“Naw. Go ahead and go back to the ranch. I think Brock will be here for a while,” Connor responded. “Thanks for bringing him in.”
“No problem. Let him know we’ve got everything under control.” Sam was rolling up the windows in the truck, and then he was driving off.
Connor turned and headed into the clinic. Looking around, he saw them heading down a hallway and he jogged to catch up with them.
“Hey, Brock?” he asked when he caught up to them as they were going into the emergency area. He wanted to make sure that first, this was an accident although that’s what Dale had said it was. And second, that he was aware of what was going on around him. “What happened?”
“Damn steer,” Brock mumbled. “I want a fucking T-bone off him.”
At least he still has his sense of humor!
They were up at the counter, and Tanner went to talk to the lady at the registry desk. Connor knelt next to Brock. �
��Does Blair know about this?”
Brock shook his head. “We thought it best not to let her leave the house. We can’t protect her here.” Brock hung his head and declared as he motioned across his leg, “Now, I won’t be able to protect her at all.”
“Hey, don’t think like that, buddy. Now you can sit around the house and watch over her. We’ll prop you up in one of the recliners with a shotgun.” Connor was joking, but maybe not.
There were men patrolling outside his house, and several of the ranch hands were sitting watch over strategic spots along fence lines on the property. Having someone in the house would be perfect. Especially with Gina so close to her due date.
Of course, everything would depend on what the doctor said. There was no blood on Brock anywhere Connor could see, but his foot appeared twisted when it shouldn’t be.
Tanner came back with an orderly, who glanced at Brock. “Ouch. That looks like it hurts.”
Some people can be so stupid!
Brock grunted something unintelligible before the orderly began to push him toward a door. Right before the door, the orderly stopped and turned himself and Brock and backed into the door, disappearing with Connor’s foreman.
“I’ll let you know what’s going on once he’s had x-rays and has been seen by the doctor,” Tanner said before he followed his brother.
Shaking his head in frustration, Connor wiped his hand down his face. Breeding season was coming up, and it wasn’t a good time to be missing a foreman. Tanner was going to have to step up and take the reins.
Needing to get back to the office, Connor exited the hospital and climbed into his SUV. The drive back to the sheriff’s office was short, and as he was getting out of the vehicle, Lawrence and Frank were walking toward him, the former carrying a file folder.
“How’s Brock?” Lawrence asked as he leaned up against the bumper of the Tahoe.
“He’s being triaged as we speak at the clinic. We’ll know after a while.” Connor looked at both men.
Lawrence was dressed in blue jeans and a black T-shirt that showed off his large biceps beneath the short sleeves. His hair was still a bit long, the golden-blond streaks he sported not as predominant as before. He was seriously trying to fit in.
Frank was still new. He wore a dark blue suit with a tie to match. His shirt was white, most likely starched and pressed. Hopefully in a few years he would be as laid-back as Lawrence was becoming.
“Frank had to dig deep, but he finally was able to find Catalina Moraga,” Lawrence spoke as he handed the file to Connor. “She was born Juanita Miranda Catalina Ruiz. Ruiz was her mother’s maiden name. When Catalina was four, her mother married Arturo Moraga.”
“Moraga was an abusive drunk.” Frank took over from Lawrence. “Catalina missed a lot of school because of it. She apparently studied a lot at home, checking out books from the library at an alarming rate. The police chief from the village she was raised in said that when Catalina was thirteen, Moraga viciously beat her mother. The woman landed in the hospital.
“Catalina took a bus all the way to Buenaventura to visit Perez. She tried to get him to take care of Moraga, thinking that Perez would defend a woman he had slept with. He laughed at Catalina, told her she wasn’t his child, and sent her on his way. That, of course, upset Catalina. As she was leaving, she was heard to say she would get even with him.
“She went back home, and the next morning, Moraga’s body was found in an alley behind a bar. The police said he had been robbed and stabbed to death. There was speculation of who did the deed, but with no witnesses, there wasn’t much they could do. They just thought it was a drunk who got rolled.”
“Do you really think a thirteen-year-old girl would be able to kill a…” Connor looked at the copy of the death certificate for Arturo Moraga and continued, “A thirty-eight-year-old man who outweighed her by probably nearly two hundred pounds?”
“Or she found someone to do the dirty work for her,” Lawrence offered. “Being so well read, she probably found ways to get things done. She started at a young age trying to get Perez to take her in, or at least acknowledge her existence as his daughter. This battle has been building for quite a while.”
“Have you contacted the authorities in Colombia about your findings?” Connor asked.
“Uh, we’ve got a bigger problem,” Lawrence stated. “She’s here in the States, most likely here in Montana.”
“What?” Connor exclaimed. He glanced around at the people who stopped walking at his outburst. With most of the town in the know about what was going on, they all gave him a nod and moved on.
“Mexican officials indicate that a private jet from Colombia landed yesterday afternoon just across the border from Texas. They were on the ground for nearly five hours before taking off again. Their flight plan was for Chicago, but they were probably making their way here.” Lawrence seemed a bit uneasy explaining this.
This was going to unravel quickly. Needing to get a grip on this, Connor asked, “Have you checked with the airport in Kalispell to see if they landed?”
“They’ve been in a blackout situation since about nine last night,” Frank said quickly. “Please don’t tell my wife I did it. SmartTabs is powerless also. The whole grid is down and will be until I switch it back on.”
“Did you check the other airports? Missoula? Butte? Glacier?”
“A private jet landed in Missoula around three thirty this morning with mechanical issues, but it was registered to a charity outfit called Life Provider’s. They help critically ill patients come into the U.S. to receive treatment.”
“So, it’s a legit charity?” Connor asked, his mind starting to go off in all different directions.
“Yeah, it is,” Lawrence confirmed.
“I don’t like this. There are so many variables.” Connor took a deep breath. “Get Blair into town. I’ll call Chavez. Lawrence, get the text off to everyone and let them know to be on standby. I have a feeling this is going to go down very soon.”
Lawrence and Frank were in Frank’s dark green Yukon, which was parked next to Connor’s Tahoe, within seconds and were heading out of the parking spot as Connor dialed Chavez. When Chavez picked up, Connor informed him, “Get to the diner.”
Chapter Ten
Trying to hold his leg still as pain radiated from it was ridiculous, but it had to be done. He literally felt sick to his stomach as he lay on the table under the x-ray machine. The tech had already taken several shots and was working on another one.
Brock tried to think of Blair to keep the pain at bay, but it wasn’t working. He was also beating himself up over what happened.
He had been around horses and cattle long enough to know that putting himself in that position was dangerous. Unfortunately, while you’re trying to get a dumb cow to do what you want, that doesn’t always happen.
“All right, Mr. Tillman. Hold still.” The tech’s voice came from the small booth. The machine whirled and clicked before the tech finally said, “Okay. You can relax.”
Doing as he was told, Brock watched as his leg twisted slightly off to the right. He bit back the pain.
Blair is going to worry so much over me.
Here they were, freshly engaged for approximately twelve hours, and he was going to be laid up for the next month or so. How was he supposed to protect her? Make her happy? Give her everything she wanted and needed?
God, I was so stupid!
“The pictures are good, so we’re going to take you back to the ER,” the tech said as he brought the gurney over to the embedded slab of the x-ray machine. “Sit up slowly.”
Brock moved slow, more to keep his stomach from the queasiness that threatened. With help, he moved over to the gurney and was being wheeled to the curtained area he had been when first checked in.
Tanner was sitting in a chair looking at his phone. He liked to read thrillers, so he had gotten the Kindle app and read while in his downtime. Now, he wouldn’t be reading so much since Blair was back in the
ir lives, and since he was going to have to take over Brock’s responsibilities.
“What’d they say?” he asked, putting his phone away in his rear pocket.
“Nothing yet. They have to read the x-rays,” Brock responded. “Why don’t you go ahead and head home? I’m probably going to be here for a while.”
“Nope. The boss told me to stay here, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Tanner spoke with authority. “You stayed with me when I had my appendix out. We’re brothers, dude. We’re there for each other.”
Brock didn’t want to be rude. He wanted peace and quiet because the pain that was screaming in his head was loud. The nurse had administered a painkiller, but it was just now starting to kick in.
“Then, why don’t you go get something to eat and some coffee? I could use something to eat. I skipped breakfast,” Brock suggested.
Tanner stood. “We both did. We had something else on our minds.”
They both chuckled. Before walking Blair back to Connor’s, they took the opportunity to make love to her again, so there was no time to grab a bite to eat. She had offered to make them some breakfast burritos, but they needed to get out to the corral and sort out the steers they were going to use to breed.
“What do you want?” Tanner asked as he stepped toward the curtain.
Shrugging, Brock really wasn’t sure. “A muffin or a Danish. Something like that. And a large coffee.”
“Okay. Be back.” Tanner disappeared, the curtain waving in his wake.
Brock laid his head back and closed his eyes. He let the drug work through his system until he felt heavy and floaty.
* * * *
Tanner hated to leave Brock, but he knew his brother was not a good patient. He was unbearable to live with when he was sick, so this was going to really try both of their patience. Perhaps having Blair around would change Brock’s demeanor while recuperating.
