Redemption River

by Lindsay Cross

  Hunter acted casual, like this mission wasn’t a big deal. But Ranger knew his brother. He felt his tension, saw the anger barely banked behind his eyes. Hunter had loved one woman in his entire life. One. And now he had to get up close and personal with her. Use her.

  Sure he’d dated other women, but he’d never gotten close again. He said he didn’t care, that this was a cake mission, but Ranger knew without a doubt his brother was in for a bigger challenge than any they’d faced on their covert ops.

  “Sir?”

  Goddamn, was he expected to blindly babysit the kid until his brother was free to talk? The urge to grab the specialist and shake the information out of him pounded in his blood. He acted on the impulse and pulled Green toward him by the lapels. “Why the fuck are you here? Is it because of Shane?”

  Even the name tasted bitter on his tongue. Shane Carter. His best friend. The one guy who’d always stuck his neck out for Ranger, who’d always had his back. And Ranger had left him behind.

  Green’s legs did a little kick, his feet a few inches off the ground, and his hands grabbed at Ranger’s wrists. “Please, sir, let me down.”

  Ranger had been through enough SEAR training to read body language. To know what wasn’t being said. He pulled Green closer, their faces close enough for their breaths to blend. “Tell me.”

  “It’s regarding Staff Sergeant Carter.”

  The oxygen disappeared. Ranger’s vision tunneled and his body went rigid, his muscles locking down on his organs.

  Shane. Suddenly the dress blues made sense. He flung Green away, the need to dig into the specialist turning into the need to escape. He didn’t want to hear the news.

  “Meet us outside in five minutes, got it?” Ranger didn’t wait to see if the boy followed orders. He turned instead to find Hunter. He got one step and collided with his brother. “You need to follow me. Now.”

  Ranger and Hunter headed out the front door and down the stairs together. Specialist Green paced the gravel and grass underneath the Wharf, obviously nervous.

  Now here they were, waiting to hear whatever news the kid had, and Ranger was the one who couldn’t hold still. And he wouldn’t be able to until he knew about his best friend. If he was alive. If he was being held for ransom. If he was dead.

  “We’ve got some privacy. Spit it out.” Ranger eyed Green with venom.

  “Captain James, Captain Grey sent me as soon as we received the package,” Green said. The boy was stubborn, refusing to cower under Ranger’s glare. Any other time he would have given Green props for his nerve. Not tonight.

  Hunter stood still. No expression. No response. A fucking statue. He might as well have been waiting on the latest weather report.

  Ranger’s nerves grew thin, ready to snap like a worn rubber bands. He stalked toward Green, ready to do what needed to be done to wrangle the information from their reluctant messenger. Ranger knew it wasn’t the boy’s fault, but he couldn’t help it. It felt like Green had thrown an RPG of information and Ranger was waiting for it to explode.

  “What package?” Hunter said, his voice cutting into the killing rage eating away at Ranger’s sanity.

  “Tell us what the hell is going on with Shane.” Ranger crossed his arms and stood tall, looking down at Specialist Green. The boy was just that. A boy. No facial hair, no muscle tone, no height. Even his voice was weak.

  The specialist stuttered and turned his hat in circles. When he spoke next, his voice dropped in volume. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, sir, but command received a package containing Sergeant Carter’s remains three days ago. DNA confirmed it was him yesterday.”

  Ranger had braced himself for the news, but the words cut into him with razor precision. His ears started to roar, drowning out the rain. The thunder. His heartbeat pounded like small explosions in his head.

  His fault. It was all his fault. Ranger turned to Hunter, his gaze helpless. Hunter held up a hand. “DNA? If we received his remains, why did you need DNA to confirm?”

  “Ah… We received some of him. Not enough for a positive visual ID.” Green’s voice sounded weak and wobbly now. He pulled at his collar and stepped back, the rain keeping him caged, but he kept to the perimeter.

  “You haven’t been to Shane’s wife’s house yet, have you?” The realization dawned fast and hard, knocking the wind from his chest. Green was here to collect Hunter and deliver the news to Amy Carter.

  Ranger threw his head back, neck muscles taut and straining, the blood whooshing through his body so thick he thought he would explode.

  He couldn’t let Green tell Amy. She would need someone strong to tell her. To be there for her. To hold her.

  Ranger raked a hand through his hair, sending a fresh slew of water down his face and neck. The image of Shane falling replayed over and over in his mind. And he was standing there thinking about holding his best friend’s wife. What kind of sick pervert was he?

  Green cleared his throat. “We also received a video of his execution. The CIA has confirmed its authenticity. They are trying to keep it quiet, but the media will know within the week.”

  “What?” Hunter said, his voice loud enough to drown out Ranger’s bellow of pain. “When can you get me in the air? We’re going to kill Al Seriq and every man aligned with him.”

  “Hunter, call the commander. I can be ready to go in an hour.” Ranger needed this, needed to avenge Shane.

  “Captain, I need you to come with me before you do anything,” Green said.

  Hunter and Ranger froze. Amy. Amy needed to be told.

  “So you want me to tell his wife, my friend, that her husband is dead?” Hunter moved toward Green, his dark brows rising in two angry arches.

  “Fuck, no. He needs a sidekick for this mission. He’s too much of a coward to do it himself.” Ranger knew his words were harsh, but he was spiraling out of control, so he simply didn’t care.

  Ranger looked up, the sounds of bass and laughter seeping down to them through the wood planks above them. He had no intention of letting either one of them tell Amy, but then, his brother probably knew that.

  “Look, Green, we all need a drink,” Hunter said. “It’s late. I know Amy Carter, and she will have been asleep for a couple of hours now. Why don’t you wait until tomorrow morning? Ranger can meet you at your hotel and drive y’all out to their ranch?”

  Green swallowed, sweat dripping down his temples. “You don’t think she would want to know now?”

  “You want to take away her last night of peace? She won’t sleep for the next six months. Why break her heart in the middle of the night?” Ranger prayed the kid bought his logic.

  Hunter moved to his side. “I agree. It’s better to deliver bad news in the light of day, give her a chance to call her family so she won’t have to be alone.”

  Green nodded. “Of course, sir.”

  Ranger’s gaze cut to his brother, the silent message clear.

  “Green, how about I buy you a drink?” Hunter hooked an arm around Green’s shoulder and dragged him toward the steps leading up to the bar. Green shot a glance at Ranger before doing what any person with half a molecule still firing would do—following Hunter up the stairs before Ranger lost his shit.

  Ranger waited until they disappeared inside and took off at a dead run for his truck, barely giving the engine time to roll over before he threw her into drive and squalled out of the parking lot.

  Ten minutes later he turned off the highway and drove down a driveway lined with Bradford pears. All of them were well tended and trimmed to match, the grass mowed short but thick. Ranger slowed when her porch light came into view. Amy always kept it on when Shane was gone.

  Ranger squeezed the steering wheel so tight it should have bent off the frame. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he cranked up the AC to full blast. Now that he was here he didn’t know if he could do it. Give her the news. Break her heart.

  He parked and cut the lights. He put his forehead on the steering wheel and took d
eep breaths, building up the strength to open his truck door. Dammit, why Shane? Why couldn’t it have been someone else?

  Maybe he should just drive away and let Green be the Grim Reaper. She might never forgive him for being the bearer of such news. No. He sat up straight and focused. It was his duty. His.

  He couldn’t put off telling her any longer. Ranger walked slowly to her front door, the effort to climb her three front porch steps as taxing as mounting Everest.

  He knocked. Waited. Realized how wet his shirt was and wrung some of the water out.

  Amy opened her front door, a dark robe wrapped tightly around her waist. She folded her arms over her front, snagging some of her long auburn hair with her elbow.

  Her gaze held him; he couldn’t rip away from her eyes’ dark brown depths. Her lips had always been a little too big, but they were perfect to him, and right now they offered a hesitant smile.

  She pulled the door open. “Ranger?” She reached forward and brushed his cheek with her thumb. When she realized he was crying, her eyes turned wary. “Shane?”

  He tried to speak. But the words wouldn’t go past the huge knot in his throat. His lungs burned.

  “Ranger, you’re scaring me. Talk to me.” She cupped his face with both hands, pulling him closer as if she hoped to read his mind through proximity.

  Ranger felt himself falling. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her into his arms, filling himself with her scent.

  The ice block in his chest started to melt and he trembled. He tried to call that cold hard steel back, but he couldn’t. The tears fell faster and he sucked in a breath.

  Amy grabbed him and shook, as if she could pull him from his stupor. “Ranger, dammit, what’s wrong? Where is Shane?” Her words tumbled out, catching on her husband’s name. Tears formed in her eyes, turning them almost gold.

  Ranger pulled her tight, crushing her soft body to his, and buried his face in her hair. “Amy.”

  “Talk to me.” She pulled back, made him loosen his grip enough for her to look at him again.

  He wanted to trade places with Shane. At that moment, he would gladly die if it would bring his best friend back and saved Amy this grief. She was too young to be a widow. And he was too young to bury a best friend.

  “Shane…” His mouth wasn’t working. His tongue was thick and slow, his lips sluggish.

  Amy shook her head. Her lips formed a ‘no,’ but she didn’t make a sound. Ranger ignored the pain from her nails digging into his shoulders. “No. It’s not true.” There was that fire, that spark that lit her from the inside. Amy was a fighter.

  Ranger dropped his head to hers and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, honey.” Shane is dead. He still couldn’t say the words out loud, but now there was no need.

  Her body jerked against him as she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. Ranger cried right along with her. There was no shame. There was only pain.

  Amy shook against him, her sobs hurting him as much as his own grief.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It should have been me.”

  She squeezed him tight and cried harder, the only sound in the night.

  “No, Ranger. No.” Her words came out broken and gasping between sobs. Her arms went heavy around his neck and he scooped her up.

  “It’s going to be okay, honey. It’s going to be okay,” Ranger whispered as he carried her into the house. But he didn’t know if he was telling her or himself.

  10

  Maxine Videl flipped off the bedroom light, leaving only the low glow of the lamps on the bedside tables to illuminate the man propped against the headboard. She crawled up the rustic wood bed and laid her head on Hank James chest. Her fingers wove through the smattering of blond and grey chest hair, enjoying the feel of its coarse yet soft texture. “Why didn’t you tell me he was back.”

  Hank sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “They broke up almost five years ago. I think it’s time that everyone just moved on, don’t you?”

  Maxine frowned, but bit back the sharp retort racing out of her mouth. Yes, it had been five years since Hank’s adopted son, Hunter, had joined the military and left Evie, her daughter, in the dust. Five years Maxine had to watch Evie cringe and withdraw even more every time the man came home on leave. “I know. But you don’t have to watch how much it hurts my daughter every time he shows up at our bar. And the damn fool always brings some girl with him too. Even though he watches Evie the whole time.”

  “You know how men are. Hardheaded. Hunter isn’t any different.” Hank said.

  “Stupid. You left that part out. It might’ve been five years, but those two still can’t keep their eyes off one another. Problem is, your boy seems intent on hurting my girl any way he can. And I still don’t know why.”

  Maxine secretly hoped Hank would just ask him, find out the truth of why Hunter and Evie had broken up all those years ago. And why he kept looking at Evie like she was his worst nightmare wrapped in a daydream. Something bad had happened, but everyone involved in the situation was being tightlipped as a damn mute.

  “Now Maxi, he’s a grown man. I’m not going to butt into his business.” Hank squeezed her shoulders, his silent command for her to drop the subject. But Maxine had never been that good at holding her tongue. Or her temper.

  She sat up, pulled out of his grasp and faced the man that held her own heart. After her husband’s death a few years ago, Hank James was the only reason she hadn’t turned into a hardened spinster. Her husband Tom Videl and Hank had been best friends for a long time, with Maxine completing the trio, but her relationship with the men had turned tumultuous. The inseparable days of their youth was destroyed by jealousy, and Maxine had been forced to choose between the two men of her dreams. She chose Tom, all the while knowing she crushed Hank’s spirit, and a small part of her own right along with him.

  Hank had retreated to try to revive Broken River Ranch, and become somewhat of a recluse. Tom and Maxine had had Evie and started a new life together. But deep in her heart Maxine always held a candle for Hank James, all the while loving her husband with her whole being. “Maybe it’s time for you to say something. Those two belong together. You know it. I know it. And I’m sick and tired of watching them suffer.”

  Hank shifted, the light making his blond hair glow. Then his bright blue eyes met hers and stole her breath. But no matter if he released butterflies and bubbles in her belly, she was tired of sitting by as the helpless bystander.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I know that look. It’s none of our business. Do you really think they would appreciate us sticking our nose where it doesn’t belong?” Hank brushed a stray lock of her long brown hair behind her ear.

  “They might not appreciate it at first, but dammit, you might get them to stop and think. And maybe even realize what they’re missing before it’s too late.” Maxine, took his hand and threaded her fingers with his. Intertwining them.

  “Did you ever think there might be a reason they’re not together anymore? I know Hunter, and he’s levelheaded. Almost cold in his calculations. He wouldn’t be so angry with Evie without a reason.” Maxine held in a snort. Hunter might act like a cool level headed commander, but she saw the fires banked in him. The pent up tension.

  The only calm and collected James’ was the one sitting next to her right now.

  Which did nothing to explain the huge gap between their children. Evie had never been flighty or cruel. She’d loved Hunter completely. And up until he high tailed it out of town, Maxie had thought Hunter felt the same way.

  So what was so terrible that her daughter had ran into the arms of Marcus Carvant?

  Maxine’s anger wilted and she lay back against Hank, marveling at how hard his muscles were. Even in his fifties there wasn’t a spare ounce of fat on the man. Mother nature sure as hell hadn’t been as kind to her, but she didn’t hear Hank complaining. “I’m just so tired of seeing her hurting, after Hunter she’d been sad and depressed and lonely. But she still smiled
some. But after Marcus, I’m scared she’s broken. And I’m scared Hunter is the only one that can fix it.”

  Marcus Carver, Mercy’s slime bag mayor and all around asshole had taken advantage of Evie, but Maxine had been so excited her daughter was dating again she had ignored her instincts. Right up until the bastard nearly killed her daughter.

  “I can’t promise anything, but if the opportunity presents itself-” Hanks words were cut off by a loud crash in the house. “What the hell?”

  Hank jumped from the bed, yanked open the nightstand drawer and pulled out his pistol. Maxine followed him, grabbing her robe and pulling it on in one swift movement. Hank stopped, turned and held up his hand. “Stay here.”

  “Like hell I will.” Maxine grabbed her purse and pulled the small .38 revolver out, checked the safety, and cocked it.

  “Dammit Maxi, this is no time to be hard headed.” Hank stood tall, blocking her forward momentum.

  She propped a hand on her all too generous hip and cocked her right eyebrow. “You really want to sit here and argue?”

  “Fine. But if shit goes down you get out and call the sheriff.” The square set to Hank’s jaw spoke of his annoyance and made her smile. The man sure was sexy when he got riled. “Hard headed woman.”

  They eased from the bedroom and crept down the long hall, their bare feet silent as they crept down the polished hardwood floor of Hank’s long ranch-style house. His rambler stretched out in almost two completely separate wings, with a few guest bedrooms and Hank’s master bedroom on one end, the great room and kitchen in the middle and a couple more spare bedrooms on the other. Another crash echoed down the hall, followed by a peal of feminine laughter.

  Maxine lowered her pistol, Hank glanced over his shoulder and then did the same. The muscles rippled across his taught back when he turned. Muscles honed by hard work. They rounded the corner into the kitchen. Hayden James, the only girl Hank adopted, lie sprawled on the kitchen floor behind an overturned chair. And a man, or boy depending how you looked at it, lying right beside her. That explained the two crashes.

  Hank flipped on the lights. Maxine stepped around him and when she got a glimpse of his expression, she almost felt sorry for the girl. Hank was all cool and calm until you pushed him too far. Hayden had been pushing and pushing for the past year and Maxine had a feeling the girl just pushed her father over the edge of his own personal cliff.