“Um, the shop is closed today, for the festival,” she managed to say when her mouth caught up with her brain. Something was different about him, and it was causing her to lose brain cells fast.
“Pandora sent me in here to see what was keeping you. She said to hurry, because the universe was about to open up, and the masses were about to converge something fierce,” he said huskily. Hazel just stood there, as his words meant nothing to her, but it was something about his tone and the way he said it looking at her that made her body react in ways she had long forgotten about.
Oh yeah, he had changed. He was definitely dangerous to her, but totally in a good way.
Looking down, she nodded and hurried past, only to be stopped when he placed his hand on the door. “Can I help you with that?”
The moment she looked into his eyes, she was spellbound. She felt as if she were falling down a deep, dark well, only this time, she wasn’t scared. She was terrified.
Blinking quickly, she snapped out of whatever spell he put her under and cleared her throat. “I better get going. The crowd is getting restless.” He looked up and frowned. Wondering if she offended him somehow when she didn’t say much to him, but with a crowd of hungry people waiting outside, she didn’t have time to placate him.
As she grabbed for the door, he hauled her back, and she dropped the tray of sticky buns.
“What the hell, Steven!” she said angrily as he turned.
“Apparently your hungry crowd is very ravenous, look,” he said, motioning to the window.
What Hazel saw was unreal. The nice, quiet town she adored had turned vicious and hostile. Women and children ran for cover as an angry mob gathered, shouting profanities and mumbo jumbo she could hardly make out. On the stage in front of the courthouse was Mrs. Van Ottoman, shouting at the crowd. However, whatever she seemed to be saying was fueling their fire.
Before her eyes, hordes of men and some women started moving through the town, knocking over booths, throwing chairs, rocks, and tables into businesses as they moved their way through the town. She watched in disbelief as someone shattered Vanessa Sanchez’s storefront window as others grabbed and took what they wanted.
Moving from store to store, the mob vandalized and stole what they wanted, not caring that those businesses were someone’s livelihood.
“Time to go, Red,” he ordered, picking her up just seconds before a man threw a rock at her window. Shards of glass sprayed everywhere as he turned her, taking the brunt of the glass against his back. She gasped in fear. She had never been in a situation like this, and though she was still angry with the man, she was grateful for him being at the right place at the right time. He quickly ushered her into the bakery’s kitchen as the mob destroyed all of her displays and glass tables. The little wrought-iron chairs she had bought from a small delicatessen in Billings were thrown against the walls while others were thrown into the street. Pictures of her travels and family were ripped from the walls as they smashed them into tiny little pieces.
Within minutes, the mob had destroyed everything as she watched from the safety behind her large, hulking savior. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, from outside the bakery, a flickering light caught her attention, and just as she was about to ask what it was, Steven literally picked her up and ran for the back door. When she turned, everything she had worked so hard for over the last two years was now gone.
* * * *
Hazel stood back and watched her dreams go up in flames as the Treasure Cove volunteer fire department tried desperately to stem the flames from reaching the businesses next to hers. Thank god when she remodeled she insisted on firewalls separating her place from the others. She knew running a bakery that anything could happen, only she thought it would have been her and not some asshole with a Molotov cocktail.
Regardless, there was nothing to be done. The moment the glass shattered, the bottle sent her little bakery up in flames, and now, she could only pray that the damage wasn’t too extensive.
Standing beside her, he never left her sight. She wanted so much to have his strong arms wrapped around her, letting her lean into him for support. Nevertheless, her independent, stubborn nature wouldn’t allow it. This was her baby, her dream, and it was hers alone to mourn.
The town had grown dark, only illuminated by the burning flames of her bakery. Water sprayed from the large hoses as men yelled, giving orders. Chaos still ensued as other business owners tried to board up their shops. Various men from the town walked around, armed, protecting those who were still out.
The mob that spurned this mess had retreated. She didn’t know where they ran off to, but something in her gut told her they weren’t finished.
Since she actually didn’t see the man who threw the concoction into her store, she just assumed it was one of the vigilantes riled up by Mrs. Van Ottoman. She didn’t know why the city council chair did what she did, but her speech had wreaked havoc on the town, and it was going to take time to rebuild everything.
She had heard from Braxton that some of the women and children were being kept over at the Pleasure Cave, and he even suggested she go there for her own protection, but she refused. She was not going to leave her store. Everything she owned was in there, and she refused to leave it to someone else to take care of. When Steven said he would stay with her, she didn’t really care what he did. She just knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Red.” His low gravelly voice penetrated her thoughts. “They almost have the fire out. They managed to contain it to just the bakery, but the structural damage is bad. They said it’s unsafe for you to stay above the store. There is extensive smoke and water damage. The Fire Marshall is going to deem the place unlivable. Is there anywhere you can go?”
“I have friends I can stay with,” she lied. Well, not about the friends, but she was too proud to ask for a place to sleep. She knew any one of the girls would open their homes to her. She just didn’t want anyone to see her as helpless.
“Steven!” she heard the familiar voice shout, and turned to see Braxton running toward them. When a loud pop vibrated through the air, she flinched. Braxton ducked, and Steven forcibly grabbed her, pinning her against a brick wall, shielding her with his body.
“Was that a gun?” she asked. Her heart was racing. She couldn’t take much more of this.
Before Steven could answer, another shot rang out.
Then another.
Oh God! It was happening again.
“Get her out of here!” Braxton shouted, returning fire.
Hazel felt his hand clamp her wrist, and before she could blink, they were running. Her chest was burning. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know where they were running to, nor did she care. She could still hear the gunshots. They were loud and plentiful. She knew living in the country, those guns were normal, but she wasn’t from the country. She grew up in the city. A city far from the wilds of Montana.
Hell, the worst thing she ever had to contend with living in South Florida was the noonday traffic and the spring breakers. The only people who shot guns were police officers, and even then, they preferred Tasers to guns.
“Hazel, where’s your vehicle?” Steven asked, ducking between two buildings.
“Behind the bakery,” she whispered.
“We need to get to your car,” he said, looking around. “Come on.”
They were running again.
She had spent the last two years of her life in this town. It was small, with only one main street. The town was just a simple hole-in-the-wall, actually. It had the major amenities, like a clinic, a grocery store, a sheriff’s office, and other small business, but other than that, if she wanted the finer things, like a five-star restaurant or a movie theater, she would have to drive into Billings, which was over two and a half hours away.
Learning to live without Starbucks, Panera Bread, and her weekly spa visit took some getting used to. When she first moved to Treasure Cove, she didn’t think she would be able to sta
y. Then she met some of the townsfolk, and everything changed. She enjoyed the quietness of the town. She was used to the hustle and bustle of city life that just being able to hear the crickets at night was a wonder for her. The stars in the night sky seemed so close she felt as if she could just reach out and grab them. There was a magical wonder she felt, living in Treasure Cove. Before she knew it, she had grown accustomed to the slower pace of life and no longer thought of her previous hectic life.
“Almost there, Hazel, come on,” Steven said, breathing heavily. The gunfire was loud. As they rounded the corner of the clinic, another shot rang out and Steven fell.
“Steven!” she screamed as his hand slipped from hers. Falling to the ground beside him, she saw where the shot entered on his right shoulder. Blood oozed from the wound.
“Run, Red,” he moaned.
“Get up!” she screamed at him as another shot hit the brick façade. Yanking on his left arm, she tried desperately to get him to his feet. “I’m not leaving you. Get up!”
Pulling with all of her strength, she got him to his feet. With his arm over her shoulder, she steered him toward the back alley behind her shop.
It was dark. The lights were out. She could still hear the gunshots. The town was going crazy. She needed to get Steven help. Slowly, they walked down the deserted alley, keeping close to the wall.
Her car came into sight, and she felt relief. All she had to do was get him into the front seat, and then they could get the hell out of this town. She didn’t care where they went, as long as nobody shot at them when they arrived. As she approached, she cursed, “Son of a bitch!”
Her car was useless. Someone had slashed her tires.
Another shot rang out, hitting the bumper of her car.
“Damn,” Steven muttered, throwing her to the ground. “What the fuck is going on?”
Hazel didn’t know. She just wanted to get the hell out of town. This was too much.
She was just about to agree with his sentiments when Steven whistled loudly. Gasping for air, she couldn’t catch her breath. Steven weighed a ton. She knew he was just trying to protect her, but he’d been shot once already. She didn’t know how bad it was. He was still bleeding. Yet, when she looked at him, he didn’t seem to feel it.
The sounds of hoofs on concrete alerted her. She began to panic.
“Don’t worry. It’s just Satan,” Steven said softly. Before she said anything, a very large black horse walked toward them. The beast looked massive, like some dark avenging demon from the pits of hell. When it snorted, she actually flinched. This was not just any horse. The beast before her looked nothing like the ponies she rode out at Emma’s place. This black stallion was a rogue. She could tell by its eyes that it did what it wanted, always.
“Don’t be afraid. He can be ornery sometimes, but he is reliable,” Steven said, getting to his feet, hauling her up with him. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”
“On that?” she asked, scared. Looking up at the beast, she actually considered taking her chances with the idiots with the guns. She never felt his hands around her waist. One minute she was looking up at the beast, the next, she was sitting on top of it. The next thing she felt was Steven sitting behind her. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close to him. He grabbed the reins, and then they were galloping off into darkness.
Chapter Two
The temperature was dropping. He knew the drill. He had lived in Montana his whole life. Though it was the middle of July, the nights in the mountains could get bitter cold. He was too far from home. She was going to freeze before they made it back to the Double Deuce.
Looking behind him, the town faded and the darkness took over. He loved the open range.
However, not tonight.
He knew when he turned, just before that shot rang out, that the bullet that was in his shoulder was meant for her. Someone wanted her dead. He saw the man. It was dark, but when that gun aimed at her, he moved just in time to take the bullet. It hurt like a motherfucker, but he didn’t care. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.
Looking behind him again, he steered his horse northwest, knowing in his gut that someone was following them. He couldn’t see him, but he could feel him.
They were being hunted.
Steven knew he couldn’t take the straight path home. Too much open range and not enough cover. He was going to have to take the long way home. He just hoped that Hazel didn’t mind riding rough. Reaching behind him, he unhooked the rolled blanket behind his saddle and wrapped her in it. She wasn’t dressed for the weather.
Heading further up the mountains, the temperature was going to drastically get cooler.
The town of Treasure Cove sat nestled in a valley at the base of the Rocky Mountains. With mountains surrounding the town on three sides, the option of the direct path home was no longer valid. Steering his horse toward the thick forest, Steven just prayed that the man behind them wasn’t equipped with the necessary equipment needed to survive the night up in the mountains.
The moment they hit the tree line, another shot rang out.
“Fuck. Satan, run!” he shouted, squeezing her tighter to him as he gripped the reins.
Moving swiftly through the forest, Steven held onto the reins, knowing Satan knew what he was doing. He was a good horse, a loyal horse. Everyone he knew hated him, but not Steven. When he saw the black beast, he knew he had to have him.
Wild and spirited, Satan wasn’t an easy horse to train, but he and Steven came to an understanding a couple of years ago. After being thrown from his back for the last time, Steven grabbed his gun and pointed it at the black beast and threatened it. When the horse neighed and huffed at him, Steven shot at the ground hear its hooves. When the horse never flinched, Steven knew the horse would never be tamed. It was too wild at heart. That day, he had a conversation with the wild beast. If he let him ride him, he wouldn’t send him off to a glue factory.
After a few head butts, and one nip to his ass, Steven relented.
Since that day, Satan was amiable, but prone to temper tantrums. Satan never allowed anyone near him, only Steven, and he liked it that way. His horse wasn’t for the weakhearted. Over the last few years, Satan had gotten him out of many scrapes, and this time wasn’t going to be any different. He knew Satan would do everything in his power to get them to safety.
His stubborn horse would never quit.
“Steven, where are we going?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“We’re going to have to take the long way around. Someone is following us,” he explained, looking back again.
“Did you see who it was?”
“No,” he said, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. Steven knew it wasn’t like her to keep her mouth shut. If she wanted to say something, she did.
That was one of the things he liked about Hazel, her spunk. Hazel Montgomery had a lot of spunk. When he first met the vivacious redhead, he really didn’t know what to think. Other than being struck stupid, he feared that someone of her stature would never consider a rough cowboy, who had dirt under his nails, and barely passed high school. He wasn’t a scholar as she was. Where she was smart, he was dumb. He accepted that.
Before, his inability to talk about politics, poetry, and current events never bothered him. If it didn’t directly affect him, he didn’t give a shit. Yet, when he was with her, he felt inadequate. He didn’t like it, and before he knew it, he was blaming her for his failures.
It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t do anything wrong.
The only thing he was ever good at was sitting a horse and tending cattle. He had dreamed of running the Double Deuce his whole life. When his fathers passed away, his mom decided it was time for him and his brother to take over, and she left him in charge. He knew the ranch meant a lot to his mother, but she wasn’t getting any younger, and she wanted to be closer to town. After helping her to get settled in a nice little house, Steven did what he had been trained to do his whole life. He ran
the Double Deuce.
He was a good rancher. One of the best. He loved his job and everything it entailed. He never complained, and he never thought he wasn’t good enough.
Until he met Hazel.
Since then, he had always second-guessed himself and his ability to do the right thing. It wasn’t that he fucked up, as Neil thought. It was that he just wasn’t sure he was making the right decision. He hated second-guessing himself. It made him feel weak.
He was not weak, yet everything she said, or did, made him feel weak.
He knew it was only in his imagination, but when his brother understood and could hold a five-minute conversation with the woman, leaving him out in the cold, well, that helplessness invaded, and took root. It was that same feeling that caused him to say something that he regretted and desperately wanted to atone for.
“Is that snow?” she asked, bringing him out of his own little pity party. Looking at where she was pointing, he sighed. “Yeah.”
“But it’s July.”
“We are about four thousand feet above sea level. The air is colder in the mountains than down in the valley. Summer doesn’t reach these parts until late August, and even then, it’s only a mild warming. The average warm temp up here is sixty-two.”
“How cold does it get at night?”
“Cold,” he whispered, moving Satan up toward the pass. He needed to get to Pear Peak before that asshole behind them caught up to them. If he could, he planned to close the pass off the only way he knew how. The only problem with that was once it was closed, they would be forced to hike up the ridge and then down the other side. It was a hard trail, and not for an inexperienced hiker.
Hazel wasn’t dressed for the weather, let alone the rigors of mountain hiking.
Steven needed to get her to the lookout cabin atop Pear Peak, and hoped that the cabin was stocked. Because if his hunches were correct, that asshole was keeping up and they only had a few minutes’ lead on him.
Kicking Satan in the rear, they moved deeper into the forest and further up the mountain.
Fighting for Hazel [The Men of Treasure Cove 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4