Convincing Derrick

by Sara Blackard

  Convincing Derrick

  A Sweet Romantic Suspense

  Sara Blackard

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  www.sarablackard.com

  Copyright © 2021 Sara Blackard

  For more information on this book and the author visit: https://www.sarablackard.com

  * * *

  Editor Raneé S. Clark with Sweetly Us Press.

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination or are used for fictional purposes.

  One

  Derrick Nicholson gritted his teeth as sweat ran down his spine. The Utah desert outside of Moab was the last place he wanted to be in the middle of summer, but he couldn’t leave the abused to suffer another day. When he’d gotten the call from his friend saying there were two horses for him to rescue, he’d hitched up the trailer and jetted down the interstate, all geared up to play hero. Now, the rancid ammonia smell of the filthy barn battled with the nauseating sight of the beaten and starved horses, and he wasn’t sure which one soured his stomach more. Would today be the day he snapped and the hero became the villain?

  A set of dogs had barked incessantly from their kennels since he backed up to the corral a few minutes before, their frantic yips and skinny frames magnifying Derrick’s agitation. He squeezed his hands around the slip-slop fencing of the corral, red sand and rough wood grinding into his palms. If he didn’t grip tight, he might stomp over to the cocky man standing in front of the ranch-style house smoking a cigarette and pulling drinks from his beer like he was here to watch the show. The deputy standing next to Derrick, making sure the transfer of the horses happened without a hitch, might not take too kindly to Derrick’s fist breaking the horses’ owner’s nose. Then again, with how white the lawmaker’s knuckles were where he strangled the fence, he might let Derrick get a solid couple of punches in before pulling him off.

  Derrick rolled his shoulders as he dragged his gaze away from the house and surveyed the ranch. The sun inched down toward the red-rocked mountains in the west, gathering darkness behind the derelict buildings. The taste of dirt and rotting hay lay thick on Derrick’s tongue. He pulled his beat-up Stetson off his shaved head and wiped the sweat that ran into his eyes. He’d rather wait until the sun fully hid behind the horizon and cooler temperatures settled over the desert before he transported the poor horses, but he didn’t trust himself to not follow through with the desire to pummel the man responsible for the animals’ torture.

  “What’s happening with the dogs?” Derrick pointed his chin to the kennels as a dog yelped and limped the length of the fencing.

  The deputy sighed and pushed his hat back. “The local animal control is coming over to get them.”

  “Since the jerk owner isn’t rotting in jail, did he at least get fined?” Derrick couldn’t hold back the disgust in his voice.

  The deputy snorted a humorless laugh and shook his head. “The man got out of it. Claimed he inherited the animals from his pa who just passed, and the old man was the one who abused the animals.” He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which is the truth, but since he’s lived out here with his pa for the last five years, I have a hard time believing that dung heap.”

  So the dude would get off scot-free? Derrick’s jaw hurt where his teeth squeezed together. He needed to get out of here in double time, otherwise he might find himself examining the inside of a jail cell.

  “I’m going to open up the trailer and lead these poor things in.” Derrick stomped to his truck to get his lariat. “Mind guiding me to the gate?”

  “Nah, man.” The deputy followed close. “I’ll help however I can.”

  “Thanks. When I get close, swing the gate open and I’ll back right into the opening.”

  Derrick jumped into his truck and backed the trailer up to the gate. Thankfully, the opening was just wide enough for the trailer to butt up against it. Once the ramp was down, the horses wouldn’t be able to escape through gaps in the gate.

  Derrick grabbed the halters and lead rope from the backseat of his truck and handed them to the deputy. “Just drape those over the fence for me, please.”

  After tossing his hat into the front seat, Derrick looped the coiled lariat through the strap he’d attached to his belt. If all went well, there would be no need for the rope. After the first heartbreaking rescue, where the horse had snapped her leg trying to get away from the loop Derrick had swung, he tried to approach the animals with as little intimidation as possible, which was hard for a six-foot-four man to accomplish. No hat, no loop swinging through the air—just him, a bucketful of tasty grains, and his calm, low voice crooning to them.

  Derrick climbed over the fence and froze when the horses skittered away to the other side. He might just get his wish of transporting the horses in the cool of night. Though he much preferred the thrill of bull riding or the feel of a horse darting from the gate, the army had pounded patience into his essence. He pulled a bucket he already had filled with sweetened grain from where the saddles were usually stored at the back of the trailer. Inching forward with excruciating slowness, he gave the bucket a shake and spoke soft, sweet nothings to them.

  The dark brown mare snorted, reaching her nose toward him. The palomino with gashes across her hindquarters shied away, hiding behind the brown. Derrick took another step forward, grabbing a handful of the molasses-covered grains and holding it out with his palm up.

  “Come on, girls. Let’s get you out of here.” He cringed as he noticed a festering wound along the brown’s shoulder. “So, what should we call you? Brownie?”

  She blew a raspberry and shook her head, pulling him back to his childhood. She reminded him of his brother’s horse. Chip had been a dark brown with a personality that matched Derrick’s daredevil brother, Josiah. Derrick’s heart twisted like it always did when he thought of Josiah. His brother’s shocked expression as the rocks gave out from under him, disappearing him into the jagged ravine, filled Derrick’s mind. He pushed the troubling memory aside, knowing the horses before him would sense any agitation in him.

  “No? You don’t like Brownie?” Derrick moved a step closer. “Yeah, that’s not very original. How about Annie? You look like an Annie to me.”

  She stomped and huffed in irritation.

  “I guess Annie is out.” He chuckled and stretched his hand closer.

  She lifted her nose, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air. She took a step toward him and hope jolted through his skin. He stuffed it down, knowing she could bolt with one wrong move from him. The palomino lifted her head above the other’s back and whinnied a warning, her eyes wide. The brown snuffed an answer but stepped closer anyway.

  “Come on, girl. I’ve got some nice, yummy grain waiting in the trailer for you, darling.”

  As she continued her approach, Derrick inched backward, closer to the trailer. He stopped halfway and let her catch up. She cautiously stretched her neck out and, with careful movements, lipped the grain out of his hand. A breeze blew the putrid smell of infected flesh to him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, clearing away the emotion clogging his voice.

  “See. That wasn’t so bad.” He took a step back as he jiggled the bucket again.

  She nickered
softly and flicked her ears forward. Progress. Now, to get her and her friend into the trailer.

  “Mind telling your partner I’m not so bad?” He stepped back as she stretched her neck out, causing her to walk toward him.

  With a slow, steady pace, he worked the brown into the trailer, pouring some grain from the bucket into the feed box, and closing her in the front unit. A high-pitched neigh preceded the palomino as she darted into the trailer after her friend as if afraid she’d get left behind alone. Derrick chuckled as he gently closed the second unit and gave the golden horse her reward.

  He shut the back doors with a satisfied sigh and turned to the deputy. “All right. I’m off.”

  The deputy gripped Derrick’s hand in a firm shake. “Hope you can help those girls.”

  “Me, too.” Derrick thought of the brown and her courage to come to him. “I think they’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah.” The deputy glanced to the house and scowled. “Drive safe, man.”

  Derrick saluted, gathered his gear from the fence, and stalked to the truck. The brown gave him hope—hope that he could save them. The longing to get a ranch of his own and turn this part-time venture into something more permanent itched under his skin.

  His family at Stryker filled his mind. Who was he kidding? He could never leave his friends. He had a responsibility to them, one that overrode the desires of his heart.

  Two

  Kiki Payne’s coffee steamed next to her arm as she scanned her four computer screens. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she swiftly clicked through the options playing out before her, jotting them in her notebook.

  “Okay,” she said to her computer screens. “I think we’re ready.”

  She rolled her shoulders, stretched her arms high above her head, and sat back in the chair. Wrapping her hands around her coffee mug, she stared out the window of her office. The sky above the mountains had lightened to dark blue, signaling that the early morning pinks and oranges would soon paint the heavens, and her starry friends would blink out until tomorrow. She loved this time of day, loved the hope that came with each rise of the sun over the Rocky Mountains.

  Back home in Texas, she’d never noticed the sunrise. She’d been more busy with gathering every dollar that she could before heading out to find some fun. She hadn’t understood how meaningless her life was until she found herself stripped of her family, living in Colorado with a bunch of strangers.

  Closing her eyes, she breathed in the peppermint and orange oils misting from her diffuser. Now that she had lived on Zeke’s ranch for over half a year, the image of family had solidified in her being. The ragtag group of friends at Stryker Security Force bound by love and life filled Kiki’s head.

  She smiled as she opened her eyes to the first pink lining the horizon. Odd that the only blood relation here was her niece, Evangeline, but Kiki couldn’t deny that the men and women that lived on the massive ranch were more a family than she’d ever witnessed. While she still edged along the outskirts of the group, like the light rose color lining the sky, she desired nothing more than to pierce the invisible barrier that held her back and spread like the dawn into the depths of the family.

  Maybe then the darkness her own kin created would flee like the night.

  Kiki’s throat ached from unshed tears, and she swallowed down the reminder of her parents’ actions. She’d probably never overcome that taint, no matter how hard she tried. Honestly, she wouldn’t blame Zeke and the others if they never fully trusted her. She certainly wouldn’t.

  “Enough of that.” She spun to her computer.

  She shook off the dreary thought, dipped a green apple slice into peanut butter, and crunched a bite off as she examined the stocks again. The crisp snap of apple and tangy taste focused her gloomy thoughts back to where they belonged. There wasn’t much she did well that was worthwhile besides day trading. Shopping didn’t really count, and her parents’ actions had jerked her charity work from the table with everyone assuming she was knee-deep in corruption like her father. If she didn’t hop to it, her trading plan for the day would slip past her, and she wouldn’t even have that.

  She glanced at her clock. 5:47 a.m. Good, she still had plenty of time before the market opened. She strategized until the stocks started jumping, then fell headlong into how she stayed anchored to reality. Thank goodness her father had done her a solid when she was fourteen and forced her to learn day trading. While not your typical father-daughter bonding activity, it was about the only helpful thing he’d done for her. While her approach to the career differed vastly from the great Kevin Payne, she made a decent income off of it.

  Her phone dinged, and she pulled up the text message.

  LENA: You gonna make it or did the computer swallow you whole?

  Kiki smiled at her friend’s reminder as she glanced at the clock, glad for the humor that the serious Lena showed more and more the longer she was there. 11:15 a.m. Kiki still had forty-five minutes to get to the training room at the old stables. She normally wasn’t late, but Lena knew how Kiki could get caught up in her work.

  KIKI: I’ll be there as soon as I change.

  LENA: Be late, and I’ll make your day even more miserable than normal.

  Kiki sat up straight. Lena most likely joked, but given that she was ex-military with a penchant for dealing out pain, Kiki didn’t want to test her theory. She double-checked her stocks to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, jotted down her numbers, and rushed out of her office to her bedroom across the hall.

  When she’d first arrived, she’d lived in one of the bedrooms of the main house designated for clients. Then when Samantha, Eva’s mom, had married Zeke, the owner of Stryker Security, Kiki had moved into the apartment over the garage with Lena Rebel, a new member of the Stryker team the guys had served with in the army, and Tina West, the nanny-turned-K-9-trainer. Yet when Rafe married his best friend’s sister, Piper, people had shifted around again. She loved that about this group, how everyone would change things up to accommodate. So different from how her parents had taught her.

  Kiki grabbed her workout skort she’d just purchased and the matching tank top from the dresser and quickly changed out of her jeans. Tying her gym shoes on, she dashed out her door and down the stairs, barely noticing the impressive ranch house.

  She liked the new arrangement better than living in the apartment. Now, she shared the guest house with Lena, Tina, and Chloe, when she wasn’t on tour. Derrick, Cooper, and Davis also shared the house, but with everyone but herself coming and going on Stryker assignments or concert tours, sometimes the enormous place could be empty as a tomb.

  What used to be the Man Cave, as Rafe called it—though how a three-story, eight-bedroom luxury ranch house could be called such a thing blew her mind—now was the Pathetic Singles Pad. Again, Rafe’s name. The others threw a fit every time he called it that, especially Chloe and Tina who were in solid relationships, so Kiki kept her agreement with him to herself. She probably would only call herself pathetic, though. No one else in the house deserved that moniker.

  The women lived upstairs. The guys lived down, and they all shared the main level in the middle. The house came complete with a fancy kitchen she didn’t know how to operate, a pool table she could never hit balls on, and a home theater where she watched more westerns and action movies than she’d ever thought existed. As much as she was out of her element, she loved it.

  The hot sunshine hit her skin, causing her to pause on the front porch. She breathed deeply the fresh, bright scent of warm grass and invigorating pine. She’d take the dry mountain air over the stifling humidity of Texas any day. She smiled, then bounced down the stairs, her steps lighter than before.

  The whinnying of a horse drew her attention to the corral where two horses she hadn’t seen before huddled in a corner. Her forehead furrowed at the ragged pair. Derrick must’ve saved another bunch.

  Her heart picked up at the thought of the tall, dark, and completely off-limits man. She refused to rui
n their friendship and make things awkward with everyone over her mountain-sized crush. She’d get over it, and, if not, she’d live. It wasn’t like she had much of a heart left after her parents’ betrayal.

  Her phone chirped, and she swiped open the screen as she skipped down the stairs toward the training room. Her steps slowed and shoulders slumped. Her mother had sent another text.

  MOM: Kiki, darling, are you ready to put this silliness aside and come home yet? We need to show a solid front for the vultures circling, and we can’t do that with you off throwing a tantrum.

  Kiki shouldn’t feel guilty about her mother’s distress. She really shouldn’t. Her mom had also been in on Garrett’s attempt to kidnap Eva last fall that had ended with Kiki bound and bloodied in the back of his car. She shuddered at the memory of overhearing her parents demand that her cousin get their granddaughter, no matter the cost.

  Would they still demand the same, knowing what that cost would be?

  Probably not.

  Maybe.

  She stopped and pushed her fingers over her eyelids. She honestly didn’t know anymore. Almost every week she got a text from a so-called friend back home with the latest news article of the investigation into her parents’ empire and a snide remark. Maybe it was time to get a new phone number.

  Kiki questioned if she ever really knew her parents at all. How could she not have seen the magnitude of their shadiness? Was she really that naive?

  She sniffed and blinked the moisture from her eyes. Well, whatever the case, she wasn’t naive anymore. She had pushed her starry-eyed self off the cliff and down the mountain, replacing her with a stronger, more enlightened version of herself.

  One that didn’t bend to petulant demands.

  She swiped the text message into the trash and shoved her phone into her skort pocket. If she wanted to be a new person, she needed to get to the training room and let Lena torture her. Being stronger meant more than just standing up to her parents. If she never wanted to be hurt like Garrett had hurt her again, she had to learn how to defend herself. Lena, warrior princess extraordinaire, was the perfect person to train up the old, weak Kiki into someone much improved.