Cage: Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT

by Devlin, Delilah

  His arms automatically raised and held her. “Elaine…” He was getting worried because she still hadn’t said anything.

  He felt her chest expand, and then she leaned back and gaze up at him. “We really need to find a house, and soon.”

  Then she reached into the bag that was crumpled between them and pulled out a long slender item.

  “What…?” He realized what it was, and that the little window was facing him. There were two red lines appearing in the window, which matched the picture beside it. “You’re pregnant?” he asked, his voice cracking.

  She smiled. “Guess it’s a good thing we’re already married.”

  Later that night, they lay side by side on the bed on their bellies, looking at pictures of houses in the area on a realtor’s website.

  “There’s a yard in front,” she said, tapping on the picture taken from curbside.

  He tapped another. “And trees and some acreage in back.”

  “Four bedrooms, plus a recreation room above the garage.”

  “We can have it renovated to make it into an apartment for Brent.”

  She turned her head toward him. “You sure you want him living with us while he’s in school?”

  “So long as that’s the qualifier. If he stays in school, he can stay as long as it takes.”

  She closed the laptop, and he put it on the nightstand beside him.

  “I thought the day we went looking for paint and carpet for your office was the happiest day of my life,” she said softly.

  He thought that was rather sad. Tipping up her face, he leaned toward her and kissed her. “We’ll have many happier days than this one, babe.”

  “Promise,” she said, those “baby” tears filling her eyes again.

  Cage liked seeing this softer side of Elaine and couldn’t wait to see her belly growing. He’d put it there. “There’s no going back, now.”

  “I’m well and truly stuck,” she said, grinning. “But so are you.”

  When he rolled to his side and pulled her closer, he knew he had everything he’d never known he wanted, right here, right now. “We’ll make a good life here together. I promise.”

  She glanced at her hand again, the gold band gleaming against her pale finger.

  “We have to shop for a rock to put next to it,” he said.

  “I don’t need—”

  “Quiet. And if you want to grab that wedding dress you were shopping for earlier, we can have the ceremony you really wanted.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Let’s wait until our tenth anniversary for both. I like having something to look forward to.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Tenth anniversary from the date of our first wedding, then.”

  Her lips twitched, and her smile stretched wide. “I like how you negotiate.”

  Cage chuckled and rolled again, bringing her body over his. “Then let me negotiate this,” he said, and whispered in her ear.

  Elaine laughed, and the sound filled the room. His heart felt as though it was swelling. He had a wife he loved and a child on the way that he’d cherish.

  “So, I thought you were on the pill,” he said, smirking.

  Her mouth stretched. “I was.”

  “Must have been my superior sperm,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m pretty sure the judge ordered it to happen. Just to make sure I’d be too busy to get into any more trouble.”

  “Does that mean we have to name our kid after him?”

  She laughed. “Oh God, no. Can you imagine trying to find a cool nickname to replace Wilber so the kids in school don’t make fun of him?”

  Cage chuckled. “I’ll teach him how to fight. No one will dare make fun of him.”

  Elaine shook her head. “It’s a good thing we have months to let that one wear out.” She placed her cheek on his chest. “Best day ever.”

  Cage agreed. He held happiness in his arms.

  BRIAN

  A MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS STORY

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

  Delilah Devlin

  Chapter 1

  Sweat trickled down the sides of Brian Cobb’s face. His helmet felt heavy on his head, his pack dragged on his shoulders, and his boots were so hot he was walking in pools of water. The transport vehicles his squad had been promised hadn’t arrived, so they were hoofing it back to camp with half a dozen prisoners chained in a line. Still, their plight was better than the infantry platoon’s they’d left a click back. Once they’d given the ISIS fighters into Military Police custody, they’d headed back to continue their sweep for insurgents hiding inside the village with the unpronounceable name.

  “Hey, Corncob,” Private First Class Benny Sanders said as he walked beside him.

  “You know I hate that nickname, Sanders,” Brian muttered.

  “Yeah, I do,” he said, his smile stretching across his dark face. Benny jerked his chin toward the slender figure striding ahead of the chained prisoners, her dog Tessa walking, unleashed by her side. “I see how you look at her. Are you and she…?”

  Brian gave Benny a glare. “No. We’re just friends.”

  “She have a boyfriend back in the States or something?”

  “No, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Huh. Just thought since you two spend so much time together…”

  Brian shook his head. “We’re friends. We hang. That’s all.” Not that he would mind if their friendship grew into something more. He’d had a thing for Jamie Burke since they’d met during their first drill together back in Kalispell, for what felt like eons ago. Jamie was certainly easy on the eyes with her wheat-blonde hair, lightly tanned skin, and golden-brown eyes.

  However much he might have wished it otherwise, Jamie had assigned him to the “friend zone”—and because he valued their friendship, he’d never acted upon his attraction. Perhaps once they were back Stateside, he’d work up the courage to ask her out.

  He’d played a multitude of scenarios in his mind of how he’d go about doing it without blowing their friendship to hell should she shoot him down. Not one of them felt like the right fit. Sure, they had lots in common—they loved playing basketball and soccer, liked working out, liked animals, were both from western Montana…

  Well, maybe they didn’t have that much in common, but they could certainly build on what they shared now. Maybe he needed to figure out what she liked to do outside of the military, what her hobbies were, whether she liked to dance.

  He liked to dance. He could imagine asking her out for a beer, just buddies going for a drink together. The music would start up, and he’d hike an eyebrow. She’d give him a laugh and say something like, “If you don’t mind me stepping all over your toes,” and he’d lead her to the floor. Once he held her in his arms, maybe then she’d see him as someone she could consider as dating material…

  Ahead, Tessa gave a whine and moved away from Jamie, her nose going to the ground as she searched the trail they walked, moving from one side to the other.

  They’d left the village and were following a well-traveled trail that led through rocky hills. The area had been cleared of enemy combatants, so they’d been ordered to march the prisoners back. Still, the danger didn’t have to come from a sniper on a hilltop.

  Jamie held up her closed fist, and the squad drew to a halt. Brian looked to his left. “Benny, keep an eye out,” he said, indicating the hills behind them.

  The squad leader, Sergeant Milligan, strode up to Jamie. “What’s the holdup, Burke?”

  “Don’t know yet, Sarge,” she said. “Tessa hasn’t indicated yet.”

  Tessa moved ahead of the formation but lifted her nose from the trail and ran back to Jamie, her tail wagging.

  Tessa reached down to give her a pat. “Must have had a whiff of something, but I think we’re cool to move on.”

  However, Tessa gave another whine and sniffed the air. A moment later, she left Jamie’s side again, this ti
me heading down the row of prisoners toward Brian, her nose to the ground, sniffing the trail then moving slightly off it to Brian’s right. She whined and moved closer to Brian.

  Brian glanced around him. Tessa was a trained bomb dog. An IED might be nearby. But where? The rocky outcropping beside him caught his eye.

  “Cobb!” Benny whispered.

  He turned to glance at Benny, whose eyes were large. He tilted his head toward a hillside in the distance. Brian didn’t glance at it directly. “You see something?”

  “A glint. Then some movement. Might be one tango.”

  Brian had a bad feeling. “Jamie, call your dog back,” he said, keeping his voice natural, “I think we’ve got company.”

  Sergeant Milligan began moving his way. Brian smiled and shook his head, trying to act like his heart wasn’t racing and his stomach hadn’t dropped to his boots. “Better keep back, Sarge,” he said, keeping his tone carefree. “I think there’s an IED in the rocks beside me, and Benny spotted movement at your three o’clock.”

  The sergeant’s gaze betrayed his concern. “We have his buddies chained in a line. Maybe he actually gives a shit about them. How about you move forward, Cobb? Sanders,” he said, calling out to Benny, giving them both a strained smile. “You move, too. Get his friends between you and him. But move slow and natural. Don’t let him know we know he’s there.”

  Although every one of the squad members was now aware of the threat, they began to patter.

  “Man, I can’t wait to get back to my bunk. Mama sent brownies. Got a few left.”

  “No, you don’t, Packer. I snuck the last one when you were showering.”

  “Shithead, you better not have.”

  “Hey, Tessa,” Jamie called to her dog, indicating with a finger toward the ground that Tessa should move back to her side.

  The dog ran back, turned in a neat circle, and sat beside her feet. Jamie’s gaze went to Brian. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her gaze shifted toward the rocks as she said, “Brian, you and I have a rematch to play against Pike and Sherman. Better hurry your ass up.”

  Brian gave her a crooked grin, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

  A shot sounded, and Benny dropped to his knees, his head sagging toward his chest.

  Brian took another step, but sound exploded then went suddenly muffled. He felt something hammer against his lower body, felt searing pain, then he was flying, everything moving in slow motion, clumps of dirt and flares of fire, tumbling head over heels until he dropped with a sickening thud on the trail.

  He couldn’t hear voices, but he saw movement—Sergeant Milligan pointing toward the hill and signaling for two men to move out and engage with the sniper; Pike kneeling beside Benny, who still knelt on his knees, blood gurgling from his chest.

  Jamie’s face entered his vision. Tears filled her eyes.

  “I’m okay,” he shouted, then pointed at his ears. “Can’t hear though. And I’m feelin’ a little…dizzy.” Okay, a lot, but he didn’t want to worry her.

  Sergeant Milligan knelt beside Jamie, talking into his radio. Someone else moved to the opposite side of him…Kinsey, the medic. His back was to Brian as he leaned over his body.

  Brian tried to get up on his elbows to tell him the problem wasn’t with his legs; it was with his head, he couldn’t hear, but then he glanced downward, past Kinsey.

  His boots were gone. Then he realized…so were the feet that had been sweating inside them.

  He drew a deep breath and glanced up at Jamie.

  She was mouthing words he couldn’t hear, cupping his cheeks. When she bent and kissed his cheek, he knew he was dead. “I’m not fucking dying,” he tried to shout, but he knew it came out a whisper, because he was weakening, barely able to keep his eyes open.

  The wind pulsed against his face, and he opened his eyes, saw the helicopter above, a fiery trail of rounds blasting toward the hill before it wobbled in the air then settled on the sand beside the trail.

  He raised a hand to point toward Benny. “Him first,” he said, glancing sideways, but Benny was no longer kneeling. He lay with his eyes open, staring up at the cloudless blue sky.

  Kinsey moved away, and Brian glanced down. Tourniquets were on his legs, below his knees. He glanced at Jamie. “They find my boots?”

  Her face crumpled, and Tessa wiggled her way in between Jamie and Sergeant Milligan. Her tongue lapped at his cheek. Her cold, wet nose nuzzled his ear.

  Any other time, he would have pushed her away, but Brian no longer had the strength. “Hey…they find my boots?”

  Brian awoke, surprised to see darkness when the sky had just been so blue, and uncomfortably aware that the air inside his bedroom was frosty-cold not fry-an-egg-on-a-rock hot.

  His words echoed in his brain once more. Those damn, stupid boots…

  Drawing in a deep breath, he pushed aside the dream, trying to remember that he’d been the lucky one. Benny had been dead the second he’d knelt in the dirt.

  Brian ground his teeth together. He’d never have that chance to ask Jamie to dance, and now, Jamie was married to Sky. Not that he’d stewed for long about his lost opportunity after “the incident.” He’d had too many other challenges to overcome.

  Knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep again—he never did after having the nightmare—he reached to the right and flicked on the switch for his bedside lamp. Then he pushed himself up to sit and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. Almost there.

  Reaching out, he planted his right hand in the far side of his wheelchair seat, his left in the mattress beside his hip and pushed his body up and across to the edge of the seat. Settling backward on the cushion, he unlocked the wheels and made his way to the toilet in the bathroom, transferred from his chair to the toilet seat, took care of business, moved back into the chair, wheeled to the sink to wash his hands, then made his way back into his bedroom to dress.

  Half an hour later, he wheeled down the hallway that led from his apartment in the back of the office building into the kitchen, pausing along the way at the thermostat on the wall to reset the temperature to a comfortable sixty-eight degrees. Thankfully, his apartment and the rest of the office were wheel-chair friendly, so the thermostat was well within his reach.

  Once in the kitchen, he started the coffee machine, grabbed a bagel from the fridge, and popped it into the toaster. With a buttered bagel and a cup of coffee balanced on a tray in his lap, he moved out into the bullpen toward his desk.

  He might as well get started on the day, pull a spreadsheet of skips, check his email. A million things he needed to do other than think about the fact Raydeen would be expecting him on the track at ten AM, along with all the available hunters. She’d informed him he was necessary, that they needed a timekeeper, but he knew she had ulterior motives for getting him out on the track.

  She’d cajoled him more than a few times to wheel around the track to get some upper body exercise in, but him getting some cardio in wasn’t what she really wanted, either. She wanted him to watch all his buddies running around the track, to remind him that he was wheelchair bound—by his own choice—but that there were other choices he could make.

  She was a physical therapist, and he thought maybe she believed it was her mission in life to “fix” him—Brian Cobb. He was her challenge.

  Brian didn’t want to run a stopwatch for his friends. Didn’t want to sit and watch them running around the track, complaining about aching joints and wheezing because they weren’t in top shape. Not after a long, cold winter of sitting on their asses.

  Which wasn’t exactly fair, because they were all a pretty fit bunch, but he liked to gripe, at least in his mind, because while they weren’t purposely cruel, their very fitness ate at his pride. Reminded him of everything he’d lost.

  He rolled backwards, away from his desk, and headed to the large bulletin board at one side of the room—at the “hall of shame” pictures the group hung to celebrate their team members’ most inglori
ous moments.

  There was the pink, sequined and glittered frame surrounding the picture of Dagger and Lacey, when they’d been prom king and queen in high school; the picture of Animal confronting the bear, his arms outstretched and looking like a lunatic; another of the mud-splattered hunters who had surrounded Jamie and Sky as they’d stood in front of Reaper (who’d gotten his license to marry them over the internet) to say their vows. He hadn’t been there to witness Animal’s crazy act or Jamie’s wedding. He’d been right here, as always, stuck hearing about everyone’s adventures while his dreams rotted in this chair.

  Brian leaned back his head and breathed deeply. He’d promised himself when he’d taken the job at MBH that he was over feeling sorry for himself. Most of the time, he kept that promise. He kept busy, made sure the hunters had what they needed in the way of equipment, intel, and coordination. He made himself indispensable—because if they needed him, he had to be there.

  When he’d been at his lowest, before Jamie had come back home and rescued him from himself, he’d considered ending himself. He’d even bought the gun—a Remington handgun that sat in a locked box under his bed. He just hadn’t ever bought the bullets.

  These days, he rarely thought about offing himself. He was too busy, and some part of him had begun to believe, to hope, that something better was coming. Because he’d lived through the worst a man could face and come out…if not whole, then not completely destroyed.

  He had friends who respected him and cared about him, a job he truly enjoyed with new gadgets and tech to keep him from ever being bored. The van, the drones, the advanced surveillance equipment the agency could now afford due to the success of their reality TV show was enabling him to become a bigger part of the operations. He lived for those times, because with the cameras the team wore, he felt as though he was in the thick of the action. He forgot he was chained to a chair. He was with the team, entering that building or clearing. He heard the shouts, the cries, the pops of gunfire. For those fleeting moments, he was fully alive, fully engaged.