by Ciana Stone
“And satisfy your curiosity.”
Cody laughed. “Well, duh. I swear it just gets more interesting by the day here, doesn’t it? And to think that we were all scared to death that Cotton Creek was going to dry up and blow away when the oil field shut down.”
“Yeah, we got lucky that Legacy bought it and turned it into a natural gas production and built all those wind farms.”
“Not to mention that big-ass facility that’s being built over at Sanctuary. Oh, that reminds me, Charli wanted to know if she could host Etta’s bridal shower here? I told her it was fine with me, but I’d check with you. And we need to add half a dozen bottles of Fireball to that order.”
“Ok got it, and on the shower, it’s fine me. When are she and Jasper getting married?”
“Next month.”
Hannah looked down at the clipboard on the bar for a moment and made a notation. “You know there are a lot of people who thought she and Deacon Johns would end up together, but I guess she was telling the truth when she said they were family.”
“I believe it.”
“It’s kind of a shame though.” Hannah’s gaze returned to Cody
“Oh, why’s that?”
“’Cause Deacon is smoking hot.”
“That’s the God’s honest truth. If I wasn’t married, I’d be on him like white on rice. But hey, nothing’s stopping him from hooking up and believe me, every time he’s here he gets hit on. Women are drawn to him.”
Hannah sighed. “Yeah, he does have that I’m gonna take you there vibe, doesn’t he?”
“In spades little sister.”
“It’ll be interesting to see if he ends up with someone here.”
“Yep. Tell you what, let’s get this finished and I’ll treat you to lunch at the diner and afterwards we can stop in and say hello to Cotton Creek’s new residents.”
Hannah chuckled. “And Cody can assuage her curiosity.”
“Yeah, there’s no way I can pass up meeting a man whose arms are as big around as your body.”
“Bitch.”
Cody laughed. There was no rancor in Hannah’s insult. It was all just teasing between sisters. And Hannah was right about Cody’s curiosity. She couldn’t wait to meet the new people in town. Chances were, they’d end up the newest topic of gossip within a week.
After all, this was Cotton Creek, the little town where nothing was supposed to happen but a whole did.
Chapter Two
“Mathias Greyhorse?” Etta lowered the remains of her sandwich back to the plate.
“You know him?” Cody asked. She and Hannah ran into Etta on the sidewalk near the diner and invited her to join them for lunch. Talk had been of the wedding and the upcoming shower Charli was hosting.
When Cody brought up the new blacksmith in town, it shocked Etta. She did, indeed, know Mathias Greyhorse. She’d treated him two years ago and as far as she knew he’d returned to active duty.
“I do.”
“And?”
“And I’m surprised he left the service.”
“Why?”
Etta fiddled with a French fry, running it in circles in the puddle of catsup on her plate. “He seemed like a lifer to me.”
“Well, he’s out and living in Cotton Creek now. We were going to stop by after lunch and say hello. You want to join?”
“No, but thanks. I need to finish up errands and get back. In fact, I should get a move on. Thanks again for letting me have lunch with you. It was fun.”
Etta put enough on the table to cover lunch and a generous tip. “Hey, we didn’t ask you to have you pay.” Cody protested.
“After all you’re doing for me with this wedding and the shower? I owe you both more than I can ever repay.”
“Its what friends do.” Hannah remarked.
“Then I’m very blessed. And I’m paying for lunch. Have a great day and thanks again. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cody replied.
“Have a good day,” Hannah called out as Etta headed for the door.
Once on the sidewalk, Etta pulled out her phone and dialed Deacon. He answered almost immediately. “Hey, Etta, what’s up?”
“Remember Mathias Greyhorse?”
“I do, why?”
“Seems that he bought the blacksmith shop in Cotton Creek.”
“Really? I didn’t know he’d left the service.”
“Neither did I. Do you remember him ever mentioning a sister?”
“No, but why would he? Why do you ask?”
“I just don’t remember him ever mentioning a sister. Parents, yes, but not a sister. Anyway, I thought you’d want to know, since you were his commanding officer at one time.”
“Thank you. Maybe I’ll ride into town one day this week and say hello.”
“I was thinking the same. Anything you need from town today?”
“Not that I can think of but thanks.”
“Okay. See you later.”
She ended the call and continued on to her car. An hour later she’d finished all her errands. As she drove back through town, she thought about Mathias and on impulse, made the turn that would take her to the Blacksmith shop.
It was located on a corner in a stand-alone building beside an autobody shop. She parked on the street and went to the front entrance. The moment she stepped inside an involuntary “wow” escaped her lips.
The walls were covered with displays of metal works, mostly bladed weapons, but what weapons they were. They ranged from the practical to fantastical, but all were stunning in their craftsmanship.
Mixed among the blades were light fixtures, sconces with intricate metal work, and lamps with lovely stained-glass shades that cast a swath of dancing colors around the shop.
There were complete sets of medieval armor, chain mail and elaborate metal helmets as well, all works of art, at least to Etta’s eyes.
“Hello.” A lovely woman with hair the color of night pulled back in a long braid, greeted Etta.
“This is amazing.” Etta remarked. “And sorry, hello, but again, this work is amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“Who does it?”
“My brother and me. I’m Mica Greyhorse.”
“It’s a real pleasure,” Etta extended her hand, thinking that Mica was an unusual name. Pronounced as Mike-ah, it sounded a bit masculine, but there was nothing masculine about the beautiful woman who smiled at her.
Etta was the recipient of a host of comments about her eye color being so incongruous to her skin and hair color. Until now, she’d not met anyone else who shared that trait. Mica Greyhorse did. Her eyes were the color of storm clouds, pale gray with a slight tint of green and dark green rimming the pupils.
Combined with a pale but distinctively native skin tone and that black silky hair and the combination was rather breathtaking.
“Etta Whitestone.” Etta introduced herself.
“Dr. Whitestone?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my. Etta Whitestone. I never expected to meet you, but fortune sometimes smiles on us when we least expect it.” Mica extended her hand to Etta. “Thank you. You saved my brother’s life.”
“You’re welcome,” Etta accepted the handshake and smiled at Mica when it was over. “But I didn’t save him. Just worked with him. He’s a very special man.”
“He is.”
“How is Mathias?”
Mica gestured for Etta to follow and they moved across the room. “After he was released from treatment, he returned to his unit and from what I know about the events, was fine for nearly a year. Then something went horribly wrong on a mission. Mathias has never really talked much about it, but from what little he has said, apparently a lot of people died, including some civilians. He said he couldn’t stomach the killing anymore, so he resigned.”
“I didn’t know that. How is he now?”
“Quiet.”
“I seem to remember him as being that way when I worked with him.”
“Maybe I could talk with him?”
“Would you?”
“Happily.”
“I would be forever grateful. But please, accept my apology. You’re here to see Mathias. Come, please.” Mica led Etta through the showroom to a door in the rear wall. It opened into an enormous space with cement floors and walls and huge metal doors on two sides that were standing open.
Mathias stood at a work table, joining links of a chain.
“Hi, Mathias.” Etta said.
His posture stiffened, then his head turned. When his gaze fell on her a slow smile spread on his face. “Doc Whitestone.”
“It’s good to see you, Mathias. How’ve you been?”
“It’s good to see you Doc. What are you doing here?” She sensed that he was genuinely happy to see her but that it also made him a little uncomfortable.
“I live here now.”
“In Cotton Creek?”
“Well, outside of town. Sanctuary.”
“I heard Commander Johns was there.”
“You heard right.”
“What are the odds?”
She smiled up at him. “I don’t know but I sure think it’s lucky we all ended up here. Mathias, this place is amazing. I had no idea you and your sister were such talented metal workers.
“She’s the talent. She designs it.”
“Not all of it,” Mica argued. “We’re a team. Sometimes my designs aren’t structurally sound and Matty corrects me.”
“Well, they’re beautiful. And I’m glad to see you again, Mathias. We should get lunch or a beer or something and catch up one day when you have time.”
He nodded. “Sure, Doc.”
Etta sensed he was through talking by the way he glanced at his workbench. “Well, I should get on back. Mica, it was so nice meeting you. I hope I’ll see you again.”
“As do I, Dr. Whitestone.”
“Etta, please.”
“Thank you. Please, come back anytime you like, Etta. This door, and the one to the house out back is always open to a friend.
“Thank you and I will. You can count on it.” She looked over at Mathias who was already back at work. “See you soon Mathias.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He replied without turning around.
Mica accompanied Etta outside. “He seems fully functional.” Etta commented. “And I didn’t sense any real anxiety from him other than perhaps surprise over me showing up.”
“You wouldn’t. Matty has thick walls and is quite adept at hiding behind them. And honestly, he handles it all well most of the time. And maybe no one else would ever notice, but he rarely smiles. When we were kids, he used to smile all the time, and laugh. He had a great laugh. I just worry that he’ll never pull out of this.”
“Maybe we can help. I know he has great admiration for Deacon. I’ll ask Deac to stop by and pay him a visit.”
“I’d appreciate that. He has often spoken of Commander Johns and always with great respect. Thank you, Etta. You’ve very kind.”
“It’s what friends do.” Etta said and took Mica’s hand.
“But we just met.”
“That’s how friends start isn’t it?”
“It is.” Mica said and smiled. “Thank you again.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
As Etta got into her car, she thought about Mathias and his sister. They didn’t resemble all that much. Where he was a towering brute of a man, nearly seven feet and well over three hundred pounds of brawn, she was shapely but slim and not very tall.
Their Native heritage was more pronounced in Mathias than in Mica. His skin was darker, and his eyes were a brown so dark it was nearly impossible to distinguish between the pupil and the iris.
When she last saw him, his hair was short, per military regs. Now it was long, hanging in a braid down his back.
Mica’s composure, posture and speech were that of a woman who was self-confident and articulate. Etta wondered what Mica had done before she moved here with Mathias. She didn’t seem to fit the role of a simple metalworker. She was too – polished.
On impulse she placed a call to Admiral Angel’s office.
“Is he in?”
A few seconds later the Admiral answered. “What can I do for you, Etta?”
“What makes you think I’m calling to ask for something.”
“Why else would you call?”
She realized that he was right. The only reason she ever called him was when she needed him for something. “Maybe to say hi?’
“Hello then.”
“How are you, Frank?”
“I’m well.”
“Are you?”
“I am. Finally, I am. And you?”
“You know I’m getting married. To Jasper Jacks.”
“I do.”
“Will you come?”
“Do you want me there?”
“I do. It would mean a lot to me.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.
“Is there anything else?”
“Mathias Greyhorse.”
“What about him?”
“He’s in Cotton Creek.”
“And?”
“And I think he needs help, Frank. I saw him. Can I get his files? Something happened to make him walk away and I need to know what it is, so I can help him.”
“You can’t help all of them, Etta.”
“I can try.”
“Fine. I’ll have the files to you by morning.”
“Thank you.”
“I think maybe it’s time I thanked you.”
“Why?”
“For caring.”
“We all care about them, Frank. It’s why we continue to do what we do.”
“That’s true.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you at the wedding.”
“Same here, Etta.”
The line went dead and Etta smiled as she drove. It had taken a long time for her and Frank Angel to get over the death of his son and learn to deal with their feelings for one another but at long last they were making progress.
She thought about the conversation and that led her to thinking about Deacon. If anyone could determine whether Mathias was walking the razor’s edge it was Deacon. As soon as she got back to Sanctuary she’d find him and ask him to pay Mathias a visit.
Because whether he’d asked for help or not, Mathias was still part of the family and SEALs always took care of their own.
Chapter Three
Mica locked the front door of the shop and went into the back. They hadn’t had a customer all day and she didn’t expect they would. A blacksmith shop wasn’t a place people frequented often, and it wasn’t like days long ago when people took their horses to a farrier. Now the farrier traveled to the horse.
That’s exactly what Mathias was doing today. A horse trainer named Kyle Stadler called and asked if Mathias could come take care of a thoroughbred race horse who’d thrown a shoe.
If they were going to make this venture a success, it would be a boon to their business to build up a clientele in that area and Mathias was a skilled farrier. When the call came in, she agreed immediately and told Kyle that Mathias would be there within an hour.
Mathias wasn’t thrilled that she’d made the decision for him, but he packed up his things and headed for the Stadler ranch. Now alone, Mica unwrapped the set of throwing knives she’d made as a gift for one of Matty’s friends who was still in the service. She wanted to make sure each was perfectly balanced before she shipped them.
It was a nice day, so she opened both the heavy metal roll-up doors, letting the sun and breeze in. Mica placed the knives on top of a wooden barrel that stood upright, and picked up the fi
rst blade, feeling its balance.
It felt right and balanced perfectly when she placed it on one finger. But the real test was in its flight. She looked at the heavy board mounted on the opposite wall with the hand-painted target. The knife came out of her hand smooth and flew straight and true.
“Nice throw.” A sexy male voice behind her had her turning in surprise.
The sight that met her eyes was, in her opinion, every bit as sexy as that low deep voice. The man was well over six feet with icy blue eyes and a face composed of hard planes and angles. The short Van Dyke beard lent a hint of roguish sensuality to an otherwise hard visage.
He was not a young man, but she’d challenge any man in his thirties to look that good. Solid and obviously strong, he wore jeans in a way that made a woman’s eyes wander all the way down to his boots and back up.
And those icy blue eyes were looking straight at her with something in them that said I’ll take you there.
Yes, he was potent, and it’d been a long time since Mica met a man who tripped that yes please switch.
“Thank you.” She shoved erotic imaginings from her mind. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so. I’m looking for Mathias Greyhorse.”
“I’m sorry. He’s out on a call right now. But, please, come in.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He walked in and looked around with curiosity. His gaze fell on the throwing knives and he walked over to the barrel.
“This is fine work. Did Mathias create these?”
“No. I did.”
“You?” He looked up.
“Yes, is that a surprise?”
“Well, yes. I’ve never known a woman who did metal work.”
“Now you do. Oh, I apologize. I’m Mica Greyhorse, Matty’s sister.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Greyhorse.” Deacon extended his hand. “Deacon Johns.”
“Commander Johns?” Mathias thought of Commander Johns as someone near superhuman.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s an honor.” She put her hand in his and almost gasped. She hoped he couldn’t tell that something hot and electrifying had just suffused her entire body.
“So, you and Mathias bought the shop?”
“Yes.”
“Mind if I ask why you left Wyoming?”
“It was time, sir.”