Augusta’s Delicious Bodyguards [Men of Montana 16]

by Eileen Green

  Questions were asked, in which Ruth tried to answer quickly and shortly, but all in all, she tried to ignore them. Augusta could only watch the woman squirm.

  Finally, Ruth seemed to have enough. Standing quickly, she nearly knocked over her chair in the process. Lucas and Cole rose to their feet quickly, as did the other men in the room.

  “If you all will excuse me, I’ve been up since five a.m. I’m exhausted,” she explained as she tried to step around Lucas who refused to move.

  Lucas was looking down at her with concern. “I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable,” he said quietly.

  “You didn’t,” she muttered. She felt like a fool for making a scene, and she was trying hard to keep the tears that threatened at bay.

  Before she could move, a loud knock sounded at the door, drawing everyone’s attention off Ruth. Jimmy was the closest to it, so he moved over to open it.

  Along with a blast of cold air, Brian greeted the ranch owner at the door. Both swept in quickly.

  Brian looked around as he removed his hat. “I’m glad you all are here,” he said as he moved around the table toward Augusta.

  A look of panic and illness mingled in Augusta for she felt as if something bad was about to happen. Ruth moved around to stand behind Augusta’s chair.

  “Augusta, I’m sorry to end your evening like this, but your ex broke into your house.” Brian was matter-of-fact.

  “How do you know it was him?” Augusta asked, her voice emotionless.

  “The security company was the one who called us, but one of your neighbors saw Mr. Kirby breaking into the garage.” Brian took a seat where Hunter had been sitting. “We’ve got an officer staked out there, and a team has already boarded up the window on the side garage door.”

  Augusta couldn’t stop the sniffle that escaped her. She couldn’t believe that Josh would break into her home and steal from her. Ruth placed her hand on Augusta’s shoulder, as if she was offering some kind of support.

  “How much damage did he cause?” Augusta asked with a sob.

  “From what we can tell, he got into your file cabinet in the office, and some of the cabinets in the kitchen were left open. Otherwise, nothing was broken or messed up.” Brian was looking at his notebook, but Augusta certain the man knew exactly what he had said from memory already.

  “So, he most likely found the cash I kept in the files. Otherwise, there wasn’t anything else he could have taken that would get him any money,” Augusta offered.

  “How much money are we talking about?” Hunter asked as he crouched down.

  A pregnant pause blanketed the room as Augusta thought for a moment. Then, she said, “I know it was at least a few hundred dollars. I always keep some on hand, just to have in case of emergency.”

  “And you’re sure that there was nothing that could help him out?” Trent was the one to ask the question on the other side.

  “No. Mortgage papers for the house and bakery are kept in a safe deposit box. I think there was some insurance papers in there, one that I hadn’t had a chance to take to the bank yet. But, he can’t do anything with them. The company I deal with knows me too well.”

  Defeated, Augusta suddenly felt drained. Ruth reached out her hand to Augusta. “Sweetie, why don’t you come with me? Let’s let the men talk, and we’ll have one of our own.”

  On automation, Augusta nodded, stood, and took Ruth’s hand. The latter escorted the former up the stairs to girl’s room.

  Augusta plopped down backward on the bed, her body giving a slight bounce. Ruth sat down next to the woman.

  Ruth sat next to Augusta quietly, as if giving her emotional support without saying a word.

  Silence filled the room for several minutes before Augusta burst out crying. Ruth lay down next to the woman, wrapped her arms around her, and held her as she sobbed. “Shh, sweetie,” Ruth crooned. “It’s going to be all right.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “The boss wants Josh’s head on a platter,” Tony said as he ended the call on his phone. “He is not happy. We’ve got to find this guy today, or it’ll be our heads on the chopping block next.”

  Albert was climbing into the car with his arms full of bags from one of the local burger places. Grease spots were growing on the white bags as Albert handed one of the bags to Tony. “I want to get my hands around that motherfucker’s throat and not let go until he’s dead,” Albert said viciously.

  “Boss wants him alive, Albert. Needs to make an example of him.” Tony unwrapped his breakfast burrito gingerly so as not to have anything drip on him.

  The man in the passenger seat didn’t care about drippage. All his shirts had stains on them of one type or another, and Tony happened to turn toward him to see a blob of salsa fall from the burrito and splat on his light blue polo shirt. Albert seemed oblivious.

  Tony was getting so tired of fast food. He would love to go into a restaurant, sit down, and order like a normal person.

  “Well, we would have had him if you hadn’t messed up on the airports,” Albert accused, food bits flying from his mouth as he spoke.

  Anger was beginning to kindle within Tony. Being with Albert 24/7 for the past few days was really getting to him.

  “Kalispell airport. That’s where I checked. We drove in from Helena because that’s where the boss sent us. I thought that was the airport that people flew into.” Tony was so tired of explaining the mistake to a buffoon such as Albert.

  The two ate in silence for a few minutes before Tony gave some instructions. “I’m going to stake out the bakery today. You can check out the hotels for Kirby.”

  “Why do I have to do that?” Albert complained before taking a bite of his hash brown.

  “Because you got to do it yesterday. It’s my turn.”

  “That’s bullshit, Tony! I’m the one who’s in charge here,” Albert whined.

  Tony set his burrito and bag aside and put the car into drive. He had left it running for the heater, for even though the sun was shining this morning with no clouds, it was still cold.

  “You’ve treated this whole job like it’s been a vacation, Albert. I want out of this town. I want the notch in my belt that this job will give me. It’s time to pull your head out of your ass, stop eating all the time, and get this job done.” Tony didn’t want to flounder in the organization. He wanted to move ahead, buy a nice house, and meet a nice lady. This job needed to be completed correctly.

  Albert hit the dashboard, startling Tony. He turned toward Tony, who thought Albert was going to hit him. “Don’t you be giving me orders,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m the one in charge here.”

  “Really? I don’t see it. The boss isn’t seeing it. He called me, Albert, not you,” Tony commented. He held up his hand when Albert tried to interrupt him. “And yes, he knows about my mistake. It’s best to admit them than try to cover them up.”

  Tony pulled into a parking spot in front of the bakery. It seemed quite busy this morning. Not bothering to say anything, he got out and headed inside. He wasn’t going to wait around for whatever garbage Albert was going to spew.

  Finding a table in the corner, Tony sat and watched the people come and go. The brunette behind the counter seemed frazzled as she filled orders. He knew her name was Margo, and she had worked for Augusta for a long time.

  As he watched for a lull in the line, so he could get a cup of coffee, another dark-haired woman stepped out of the back room. She was about five feet seven and appeared to be about twenty-five to thirty years old. Perhaps Ms. Kirby had hired another employee.

  The new woman was a striking beauty even with all the flour that decorated her apron, face, and hair. From where he sat, he could tell she had black hair and green eyes that reminded him of moss that his mother had growing in her backyard. His mother had called it decorative.

  “I have the last batch of muffins in the oven,” the woman said, an Irish accent lacing her words. “What else can I help you with, love?”

&n
bsp; The original worker didn’t miss a beat as she was constructing a coffee for a customer. “You can help fill orders,” she said glancing up. “But you might want to go powder your nose.”

  A guffaw sounded from the older gentleman that was standing in front of the display case. New girl looked confused.

  The older man waved his hand out toward her face and said lightly, “You have a little something, right…well, everywhere.” He chuckled while the original employee laughed.

  “Huh?” the Irish woman said before she crouched behind the display case. She came up with her hands on her cheeks. “Oh, my.” Looking at the older gentleman, she chastised him with a smile on her lips. “Shame on you, Doc, for laughing.”

  She disappeared into the back room and returned a couple of minutes later with a clean face, and most of the flour had disappeared from her hair. Going up to the counter, she smiled at the man called Doc.

  “What can I get for you, Doc?” she asked.

  Tony found the lilt in her voice welcome and soothing, like his grandmother’s had been. The woman had come over from Ireland in the thirties, when she was a child. For being over here for so long, she never lost her accent before she passed away.

  He had loved spending time at the woman’s house. The aromas from here in the bakery reminded him of his grandmother’s house because she loved to bake. There were always goodies for him there.

  Afternoons would be spent there quite a bit when his mother worked. That was until he had gotten involved with the unsavory folk, as his saintly grandmother would call them. Once he had become imbedded in the business, he just didn’t have time for her very often.

  When she had gotten sick, he tried to see her as much as possible, but that usually wound up being once a week if even that. After she passed, guilt assuaged him, but he was too used to the money and the adrenaline of roughing someone up.

  Sitting there in a bakery in a small town in Montana, Tony realized that he had disappointed his grandmother and mother. He had also done nothing to be proud of. He was just hired flesh who took care of people for someone else.

  What have I done?

  * * * *

  Soft light filtered through Augusta’s closed eyelids. She knew she wasn’t in the bunkhouse because the room she was to use didn’t have a window. There was no overwhelming warmth surrounding her like when her men were in bed with her, although she was warm.

  The aroma of coffee assailed her senses as did the smell of bacon. Her stomach growled.

  The sound of deep voices talking and laughing reached her ears.

  Waking to sunlight was foreign to Augusta. Stars usually glittered above her when she would leave the house to go to work, the darkness wrapping itself around her as she drove to the bakery.

  One by one, she opened her eyes, groaning at the brightness that greeted her. The pale pink curtains that hung on the two windows did little to block the sunlight except give the room a pinkish hue.

  With a quick glance around, she found she was alone. The blankets had been pulled up to her chin, and the door had been left open a crack.

  She also found she was in Lily’s bedroom. The same bedroom where, not only had the woman grown up, but the same room where she had written her first dozen or so books.

  Augusta had been a fan since she had read the first one about four years ago. Things were still slow at the bakery then, and she needed something to pass the time. Downloading some books to her Kindle, she read her first Janine Allen and loved it. However, at that time, she had no idea the woman lived in the area.

  It was nearly two years later that she found out, quite by mistake. Two men came in to order a cake for their girlfriend’s birthday. When Augusta went deliver it for the party, she had overheard Lily talking on the phone to someone and had mentioned her pen name.

  Being a fan, she had asked for Lily’s autograph but had promised never to reveal who Janine Allen really was. The signed cover of her first book hung in a frame on the wall behind the serving area. When asked how she had gotten it, Augusta would shrug, give a small smile, and just say, “She came in one day.”

  Now, she had slept in the woman’s room.

  Augusta tossed the covers back and got up. She debated whether she should remove the sheets, but a knock at the door caught her attention. A glance over to it told her it was Trent.

  “Morning, precious. How are you feeling?” he asked as he moved over to her.

  He gathered her in his arms, and Augusta reveled in the warmth of him along with the love he emanated for her. She laid her head on his chest.

  His heart beat strong under her ear, just like the man himself. She was unsure of how it happened, but she was certain of her feelings for him and Hunter.

  “I hate to see you cry, Augusta,” he said softly as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I know this is trying on you, but I promise this will be over soon. Then, we can have some privacy and love on you the way you deserve.”

  She smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Releasing her, Trent stepped back. “Why don’t you get freshened up and come down for breakfast? It’s nearly six thirty, and those ranch hands will eat everything if you don’t get down there.”

  A chuckle sounded in her throat. “Shouldn’t my men be making sure I have a plate?” she teased, hoping she didn’t sound presumptuous.

  “Hunter has a plate set aside for you and is guarding it with his life. But some of those guys are ready to tackle him for it.”

  Augusta knew Trent was teasing, but she knew in her heart that both him and Hunter would take care of her. “Then I best get down there. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” She patted Trent’s chest.

  “Ruth said she laid out a new toothbrush and toothpaste for you along with some a brush and some face wipes. Take your time,” he said as he chastely kissed her lips. “We’ll protect your food for you.”

  * * * *

  Getting a gun wasn’t difficult to do. Just get the word out that you were looking for one, and there was always a criminal ready to sell one to you.

  With a handgun stuffed in his waistband under his jacket, Josh walked down the alley to the back of the bakery. Nervously he kept looking around, hoping no one would be wanting to stop and talk.

  His stomach growled as he breathed in the aromas that were emanating from the bakery. Once inside, he’d need to grab something to eat.

  Checking the doorknob, he found it was locked. Removing the wrench he had absconded from Augusta’s house the night before from his backpack, he whacked the knob several times before it gave way. Stepping inside, he was greeted by the heat from the ovens.

  A woman he didn’t know came rushing into the kitchen from the front of the shop. “What in the bloody ‘ell is going on back here?” She sounded foreign.

  He pulled the gun out from under his jacket and waved it at the woman. “Don’t try anything funny,” he ordered.

  The black-haired beauty stopped and raised her hands in front of her as if to show him she would cooperate. The one thing that unnerved him was that she didn’t seem frightened like most women would be.

  “Did you find out what happened?” Margo asked as she came to check on the other woman. She stopped short when saw him. “Josh,” she said with distain. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Where’s Augusta?” he demanded.

  “She’s taking some time off to be with her new guy,” Margo replied smugly.

  He laughed. “Who the hell would want that cow?”

  The strange woman was a little on the plump side, and the look she gave him at his comment spoke of her anger. “I really wouldna talk,” she said in a thick Irish accent. “Have you looked in the mirror lately, asshole?”

  She doesn’t value her life much if she’s going to challenge me.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You get her on the phone and tell her that she is needed here immediately.”

  Margo chuckled maliciously. “Gladly.”

  “I’ll d
o it,” the Irish woman said proudly as she stepped over to the phone on the wall. She dialed a number and waited for someone to answer. Once they did, she said, “Hey, Augusta, we have a situation at the bakery and a customer is demanding to speak with you.” After a pause, she went on. “Yes, that’s right. He’ll be waiting for you.”

  Hanging up the phone, she turned back toward Josh. “She’s just getting out of bed, so she’ll be here as quick as possible.”

  “Tell the customers that you have a gas leak and you need to evacuate the shop. Then lock the doors. If you try anything funny, it’ll be the last thing you do.” Josh gave his orders, and he was shocked to see the two women hesitate briefly. It was almost as if they were trying to defy him. “Now!” he said with a growl.

  He was certain the front of the shop was filled with customers, so he didn’t want to risk getting any of them involved. However, he was going to have to take things to the next level to get these two to take him seriously.

  Stepping over to the Irish woman, he pointed the gun at her forehead. “Margo, do as I said, or your friend here will wind up with a bullet between her eyes.”

  “Hello! Is anyone going to help us?” a man’s voice sounded from out front.

  “Get rid of them!”

  Margo stepped out into the front part of the shop. Josh could hear her make her announcement and then people shuffling. Finally, silence filled the space.

  Pushing the Irish woman out the door into the restaurant part of the shop, he pulled out a chair. “Sit. And, don’t try anything funny. I have my eye on you.”

  She sat quickly.

  “You too, Margo. Come sit at the other table, and we’ll wait together.”

  After Margo took a seat, Josh pulled up a chair between them and waited.

  * * * *

  He enjoyed seeing Augusta after she first woke up. Her hair was tousled, and her face was flushed. Being able to hold her was something he wanted to do all the time. Trent was addicted to Augusta, and he wasn’t going to give her up. At least it was a good addiction.

  Halfway down the staircase, Trent realized something was going on, for the dining room was a buzz with the guys moving around. Guns were being checked. Kevlar vests were being donned. And Brian and Hunter had sick looks on their faces.