Saving Sidewinder: Brotherhood Protectors World

by Kate McKeever

  Saving Sidewinder

  Brotherhood Protectors World

  Kate McKeever

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Original Brotherhood Protectors Series

  About Elle James

  Copyright © 2018 by Twisted Page Press, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  This work was made possible through a special license through Twisted Page Press LLC and has not been reviewed by Twisted Page Press LLC. All scenes, events, plots, characters and related elements appearing in the original Brotherhood Protectors series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Twisted Page Inc., or there affiliates or licensors.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Brotherhood Protectors

  Original Series by Elle James

  Brotherhood Protector Series

  Montana SEAL (#1)

  Bride Protector SEAL (#2)

  Montana D-Force (#3)

  Cowboy D-Force (#4)

  Montana Ranger (#5)

  Montana Dog Soldier (#6)

  Montana SEAL Daddy (#7)

  Montana Ranger’s Wedding Vow (#8)

  Montana SEAL Undercover Daddy (#9)

  Montana SEAL Friendly Fire (#10)

  Montana SEAL’s Bride (#11)

  Montana Rescue

  Hot SEAL, Salty Dog

  Chapter 1

  “Can we go to the rodeo?” Charlie repeated the question for the countless time, continuing without an answer, outlining all the things he’d do at the rodeo this Saturday. Watch bronco busting, eat his weight in deep-fried foods, and on and on. Alana let him talk, dreading the moment she’d have to deny him, yet again. Finally, he quieted, waiting for an answer.

  “We’ll see,” Alana murmured and shifted lanes to prepare to exit the interstate.

  “That’s what you always say,” his tone gave away his mood, sullen and snappish. So much like his dad when he wasn’t pleased, she thought. Blood must win out over nurture at times.

  “I’m sorry, kiddo. I have to work late this week. I’m just not sure about Saturday.”

  “Right.”

  Alana glanced into the rearview mirror at her son. At eight years old, Charlie was taking on adolescent features and no longer sported the small boy face she so adored. When he turned his disappointed gaze on her, she knew she couldn’t let him down, yet again.

  “Let’s make a deal. I get to work late tonight and tomorrow. Then you have Saturday.”

  “All day?” His voice still held a tone of skepticism and she couldn’t blame him.

  “All day. All day of horse smells and cowboy hats and fried foods. So, deal?”

  “Yeah,” he grinned at her and the little boy he remained inside shown through. Alana returned his smile with a relieved one of her own.

  She turned her attention back to negotiating the evening Helena traffic. It might not be New York or Chicago but still required her full concentration. She veered onto an exit ramp and, anticipating having to speed up to gain her place in the throng of city workers heading to the suburbs, pushed the gas and leaped into the left lane just as a loud bang rattled the car. The vehicle veered toward the right, trying to take out the van in the neighboring lane. She struggled against an inexorable pull, knowing if she collided with the van her little compact would definitely come out the loser. Her vision tunneled into registering the essentials, a wide berm on the left and the tug of the car toward the right lane. She finally brought the car under her control and pulled onto the shoulder.

  “You okay, honey?” She couldn’t turn around; her body wouldn’t let her.

  “Yeah,” Charlie’s voice mirrored the fear coursing through Alana. She unlocked her muscles enough to turn her head and peer at her son. Charlie’s pallid face highlighted his blue eyes, her ex’s eyes. “We’re okay.”

  “What happened, Mom?”

  She shrugged and forced her hands to uncurl from the steering wheel and unlocked the car, preparing to get out. “A tire blew I guess. Stay here and—Charlie!” He’d already bounced out of the car and onto the gravel shoulder.

  She exited the car and stared at her son hunkered down in front of the tire, now in shreds, showing its metal bones. Charlie glanced up at her as she approached him. “I slid over so I could get out.”

  She bent down to his level, “I see that. Well, it was the tire,”

  “Mom,” Charlie’s voice faded into a whisper. She turned her head to see him pointing toward the panel above the tire. There were several neat round holes arrayed over the edge of the panel, where the tire would be partially hidden. Holes, she blankly stared, her sluggish brain registering then processing the reality. Bullet holes in her car. She glanced around the area, then hustled Charlie back into the car, whipping out her cell phone as she did.

  Leo answered on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I think Charlie and I have been shot at.”

  Her boss remained silent for a minute, characteristic of him. “What do you mean shot at?”

  “We were in the car and had what I thought was a blowout. Charlie found the bullet holes. I think someone tried to kill us, Leo.” Her stomach twisted and urged Charlie lay down in the floorboard in the back seat. Someone didn’t care if he died along with her.

  “Have you called the police?”

  “No,” her thoughts had immediately turned to the Shepherd brothers, her nemeses for over three years.

  “Do it right now,” Leo barked then his voice softened. “Where are you? I’ll come and meet you.”

  For once she didn’t mind a man horning in. She gave him the exit number. He disconnected and she dialed 911 and explained the situation. She sat in the front seat, exposed and vulnerable, she watched the traffic zoom by. “It’s okay, Charlie. Just stay down, okay? Leo’s coming to pick us up.”

  “Mom? Can I come up there with you?” Charlie, who normally tried to act much older than his eight years, sounded like a kindergartner as he poked his head in the space between the two front seats. Alana swallowed the lump in her throat, nodded and helped him scramble over the console. He sat with his bottom in the floorboard and his arm on her lap, his hand clasped tightly in her own. Alana gripped the cell and slid down in her seat as well. How long had it been since she’d called Leo?

  Interminable minutes passed before Alana spied Leo’s Audi pulling in behind her car, quickly followed by a police car. She got out of the car, Charlie trailing close behind her. After surveying the ruined wheel, the holes pointed out to him, and Alana and Charlie’s faces, the police officer hustled them into his car, where Alana assumed, hopefully, they would be safe from stray bullets.

  Normally, Charlie would be asking about the equipment in the officer’s car, the computer setup and radio among them, but now he sat snug in the back seat of the cruiser as Alana answered the few questions she could.

  “We’ll need you to come into the office and answer these again, ma’am,” the young officer said.

  Details of the incident were repeated; a tow truck arrived and took her car away and Alana’s last reserves of stoicism trickled out. A couple hours later, after answering the same questions over and over again, she and Charlie were safely tucked in Leo�
�s car and heading to her house.

  Leo glanced at her. “You realize who’s is responsible for this, don’t you?”

  “It may have been a random shot. It happens in all cities, nowadays.”

  “Not to the extent it happened today. The cop said the examination revealed at least a dozen holes in the panel above your tire and a couple of stray ones in the trunk. And that’s just the first on scene investigation. Who knows what the forensic examiners will find.”

  Alana paled at the thought of multiple gunshots, but Charlie had obviously been listening avidly. “Did they find any bullets? Cause bullets can be traced to guns, right?”

  “Yes, usually. But it’s not something you need to worry about, bud.” Leo’s voice turned condescending, which Alana hated. Why did people think kids couldn’t reason?

  “Well, we need to find out who and what and why,” she returned with a glare at Leo. He obviously misinterpreted the info and reassured her in the same voice he’d used with Charlie.

  “How many threats have you gotten so far?”

  Alana didn’t want to have this conversation with Charlie in the car. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow morning.”

  “You won’t be here in the morning,” Leo responded.

  “What?”

  “I’m giving you a month-long sabbatical. Go away, read, spend time with Charlie. “

  “What about work? My caseload?” Like most state offices, the Helena State's Attorney’s office ran with as little employees as possible. There was no one to take over her work for a few days, much less a month. “What about an investigator? Can we use one of those to find Price?”

  “We’re still short two investigators. No one’s available. Look, we’ll deal with it. Get continuances, take on a couple hours’ work in the evening, even let you work remotely on cases. But not in Helena, not in Montana, preferably.”

  She argued, complained, and tried reason. Finally, his quiet remark of, “Wouldn’t it be the best for Charlie?” convinced her. When Charlie was in bed, her rental car in the driveway and her nerves calmed by a glass of wine, she located Hannah Kendricks’ phone number and called. She’d go to the ranch for a few days, just until the danger was over.

  “Well, Sidewinder, what do you think?” Hank Patterson leaned against the fence post and watched the horses in his pasture loll about and nibble on grass. Sam Jameson eyed him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Hank didn’t really care if Sam signed on to the Brotherhood Protectors Agency or not. Yet, once he’d explained about Kid and his injuries resulting in an honorable discharge, he’d seen the gleam of understanding and empathy in the ex-Seal’s eyes.

  “You’re okay with a month’s trial?” Sam turned his gaze to the horses, not sure if he wanted to take the job. Montana was in the middle of nowhere, a lifetime from south side Chicago and the middle eastern hell he’d experienced over the last twelve years. But it would be good for Kid, even if he was another city-bred kid who’d never seen a horse other than the ones in movies.

  “It’s a good starting place. We can relook at a contract after that. Besides, I’d rather have a man who recognizes his limitations than not.”

  Sidewinder started to protest then subsided. He did have weaknesses but they didn’t show like the broken leg he’d suffered during the last flak attack.

  “Okay, I’ll sign up. For one month.” He reiterated and Hank grinned then started back toward his house. Sam followed him into the sprawling yet appealing ranch house. Smells of cooking drifted down the hallway and Sam’s stomach rumbled. Hank’s grin widened, “You ready for lunch?”

  Sidewinder nodded and followed the other man into a kitchen where a beef roast sat on a table, surrounded by vegetables and rolls. Hank, who had removed his cowboy hat as soon as he entered the house, now lay it on a chair beside him and drained a glass of water before launching into an explanation of Sam’s first case. Sam, who’d been ready for a relaxing lunch, pushed the meal away. A woman and her kid? Not what he’d expected.

  “What’s up with this woman? An ex or a disgruntled boyfriend? I don’t want to sign up to babysit a spoiled princess.”

  “Well, that’s good, because that’s not your client.” A soft but firm voice from behind him forced Sam to swivel on the chair. A woman stood with a young boy beside her. The kid looked like any other kid after a long trip, grumpy and too tired to care. But the woman looked fresh and ready to battle.

  He stood at the table, along with Hank, who raised his arm and smiled. Another woman advanced and put her arm around Hank’s waist, presumably his wife. Yet another woman stood to the side of the duo. Christ, was it an estrogen invasion? Sam stood near at attention and nodded toward the women. Hank stood at his place and invited all the women and the boy to join them for lunch.

  “No thanks, honey. We need to head into town to pick up a few things for Charlie and Alana. They left their house in such a hurry that they forgot a few essentials.” Hank’s wife, movie star pretty, glanced at Sam then Hank.

  “Sorry, this is Sidewinder, er, Sam Jameson. He’s signed on to protect Ms. Christian and her son.” Hank tipped an imaginary hat toward the woman and her son, who stood still like deer caught in the moonlight. “Ma’am, this is Sam Jameson. Sam, meet Alana and Charlie Christian.”

  “My name is Silver,” the kid replied, and his mother put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I use my maiden name. Charlie has his father’s last name.”

  “And your husband? Where does he fit in all this business?” Sam’s brusque tone surprised even him, but he didn’t like the presence of another man in her life. And where in the hell did that come from?

  “I’m divorced and Charlie’s father is on the other side of the country.” Her stony expression dared Sam to respond but Charlie interjected again. “He lives in Massachusetts.”

  “Any issues with him?” Sam couldn’t stop the words coming out of his mouth. This interview didn’t need to be taking place here and now. Hank must have concurred and with a gesture, invited everyone to sit, introducing Sam to Hannah Kendricks, the proprietor of the Brighter Days Ranch down the road.

  Sam turned to her after they were seated and everyone was digging in. “Thanks for making room for Jacob, ma’am.”

  She smiled at him and broke apart a steaming roll as she answered, “No problem. That’s what we do at the ranch. Besides, he seems to be enjoying his first few days here. Spent a lot of time in the main horse stable with Talley, our foreman.”

  Sam couldn’t believe that. Kid had no more experience in ranching than he did. Both of them had grown up on the streets, him in Chicago and Kid in Memphis. That kind of upbringing didn’t lend well to ranch life. “I’m glad to hear it. I thought I’d swing over tomorrow to see him, if that’s okay.”

  Hannah glanced toward Ms. Christian. “I thought you’d be there anyway, what with Alana and Charlie.”

  Sam arched his eyebrow and looked toward Hank, who’d obviously been listening in. “Meant to let you know, Sidewinder. Alana and Charlie are staying with Hannah and Taz for a bit. You’ll be available for them at the ranch. And you’ll get to see Kid as often as you need to.” Hank’s understanding tone bit at Sam but wasn’t being near Kid if he needed anything the reason Sam left the Rangers? He nodded and tried to smile at the table at large. “Great.”

  “Who’s Kid?” Charlie spoke around a mouthful of potatoes and got a hand on his wrist from his mother. He swallowed visibly then repeated his question, adding, “Are there other kids my age on the ranch?”

  “Kid is a buddy of mine from the Army,” Sam told him. “He’s younger than me but older than you by about ten years.”

  “I’m eight,” Charlie informed Sam.

  “Well, he’s twelve years older than you.”

  Hank glanced up from his discussion with his wife. “Twenty? He was young when he went into training.”

  Sam felt a swell of pride in his young protégé. “Yeah, straight out of basic, or as soon as he could. He tested w
ell and had the physical stamina to do it from the beginning.”

  “How long was he out of training before he was wounded?” Hannah asked and Sam could hear the compassion in her voice.

  “Just a few months. It was his first real firefight.” And his last. A traumatic brain injury resulted in discharge from the military almost universally and Kid’s injuries resulted in memory loss, something he couldn’t alter with more sit ups and fifty-pound runs.

  “Your friend will be well taken care of,” Hannah said then stressed, “And we make it a point to try every treatment we can think of before calling it quits. If Kid can advance beyond his present level of functioning, we’ll help him get there. “

  Sam just nodded, his words lost to him. Silence ruled the table for several minutes before the women started talking shopping. Sam realized that was going to be his future for the next few weeks, following a woman intent on shopping the stores empty. Would she expect him to carry her bags? No freaking way.

  Before the group, now grown by one disgruntled ex-Ranger left, Hank handed over a file to Sam. “Here is the background on the shooting suspect. Read it over and if you have any questions, there are a couple contact numbers in the folder. Good luck.” Hank held his hand out and Sam accepted it with the eerie premonition that his life had been changed forever.

  Chapter 2

  Alana shook her head for the third time at Charlie, who held up a pair of spurs. “We’re not going to be here long enough to break those in, Charlie. Besides, what horse would like to be jammed in the sides that something like that?” She pointed at the star-shaped wheel thing on the back of the metal and leather contraption.

  “It’s not as bad as you think, unless you intend to hurt the horse,” Hannah explained. “The spur helps the horse to know where to go or what commands to follow. That, with a knowledgeable hand on the reins and you can get a horse to go almost anywhere.”