Finding Leigh: Dark Horse Inc. Book 3

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Finding Leigh: Dark Horse Inc. Book 3 Page 6

by Amy J. Hawthorn


  He listened to his friend, hearing him shifting in a chair that was likely too small for his muscled frame and long legs. Trent was a man made to be outdoors, not cooped up in a tiny room playing babysitter.

  Though Rick was completely aware of his surroundings, his focus was fixed on one point. The pale face surrounded by a wealth of chestnut hair before him.

  Damn, but she was a beautiful woman. Tall, lean, graceful. Long lashes rested on creamy cheeks. She’d been gifted with flawless bone structure and a mouth designed for kissing. If she’d wanted, Leigh could have given Kate a run for her money on the pageant circuit.

  Her beauty went far deeper than the movie star smile and swimsuit issue body. Soul deep, because she had one of the kindest spirits he’d ever met. She also had enough bull-headed stubbornness for two men.

  He’d never known both traits to be so strong in the same person.

  Like when he told her to flee, to get to safety. She’d ignored his orders, going back to save him. He’d lied to her. He’d been in far worse shape than he’d let on. He might not have gotten up if she hadn’t come back for him.

  She frowned in her sleep, scrunched up her nose and released the bed rail to wipe away a stray lock of hair. As soon as her face was free, her hand immediately returned to its former spot.

  She needed a gentle, loving man who’d cater to her every need. Her every whim.

  He wasn’t that man, and he never could be. He was hard, inflexible, and he lived in a dangerous world. He’d see her through this nightmare and then do whatever it took to insure danger never darkened her door again.

  Even if that meant cutting both her and Addie out of his life forever. Because surely the girl deserved to be with Leigh. He could think of no better guardian than a woman whose heart was as big as an elephant’s and as soft as a marshmallow.

  The only thing he could provide either of them with was a life of worry, stress, and danger. Both of them had already suffered too much. As soon as he could pry his ass out of this bed, he’d find Marcus Sutton and do whatever it took to ensure their safety. He’d find Addie, make sure she was permanently in Leigh’s care, and then he would walk away, leaving them to the lives they deserved. Without him. Forever.

  He ignored the painful clutch in his chest and closed his eyes. He might as well rest and gather his strength. He’d gotten by Trent once. It wouldn’t happen again. When his friend left his side, even to use the restroom, someone else would take his place. He was well and truly stuck until he was better.

  He just prayed that Addie stayed hidden and safe until he was free from his prison.

  He listened to the sound of his friend shifting in his too small chair and focused on the woman asleep beside him. As long as the people he cared for—no, loved—were safe, he’d make it through this cold world alone.

  This one time, as he made peace with his loss, he’d be honest with himself. Rick Evans loved deeply. If cutting ties with those closest to his heart insured their safety, then he’d make that sacrifice. He might not ever be happy, but he’d be satisfied with the knowledge he’d done the right thing for those he cared for.

  “Excuse me. Is this a bad time?” Startled by the unfamiliar male voice, Leigh looked up from her book and across Rick’s bed to see two men standing at the open door. Rick’s condition had improved over the past couple of days, but Trent and James had opted to keep him in the intensive care unit for security purposes. Noah Ramsey stood next to a tall, lean male with salt and pepper hair. The unknown man’s resemblance to Rick was unmistakable. The only difference other than age? Their eyes. Where Rick’s were a deep, dark chocolate brown and always filled with an intense focus, this man’s eyes were a lighter, softer brown. And they appeared tired, maybe even exhausted.

  Leigh glanced at Cara and Noah before answering. “No. Not at all.” Cara stood and stretched from her post on the opposite side of the room, closest to the door. Curiosity flashed across her features, but she seemed at ease. Combined with Noah’s mostly relaxed posture, she assumed the man to be no threat to Rick. “He’s resting, but you’re welcome to come in.”

  Cara tilted her head toward the door. “Come on, hon. Let’s go wait for Joe. He’ll be by with lunch in a few minutes. We’ll eat in the nurse’s lounge.” The older man stepped back to allow them ample room to exit. She followed Cara down the hall to the breakroom.

  When they were inside, sitting at the table, she asked. “Was that Rick’s father or some other relative?”

  “Father. There’s no denying they came from the same genepool, is there?” Cara pulled her cell from her pocket and typed a quick message, likely to Joe.

  “He seemed tense…restrained, maybe? I’m not sure what to call it.” Leigh didn’t bother to hide her curiosity.

  Cara set her phone on the table. “Their relationship has been strained for as long as I’ve known Rick. Trent probably knows more details, but as far as I understand, Frederick is Rick’s only living relative. I think he’s made a few attempts at reconnecting with Rick over the years, but Rick hasn’t shown an interest. He can be pretty stubborn.”

  “I’ve noticed.” She’d thought she was hardheaded. Heaven knows how many times her family had lovingly and sometimes not so lovingly cursed her for it. Rick? He had her beat by miles.

  Concern and curiosity prodded her to ask for more. “Do you know what happened to his mother? He doesn’t have any siblings or anyone else at all?” She couldn’t imagine. All her life she’d been surrounded by family. Unlimited love and support waited, no matter which direction she turned.

  “His mother died when he was a child. From my understanding, then he was sent to boarding schools. At some point, while we were stationed in Afghanistan, his father had a change of heart. I don’t know for sure, but maybe the fact that his son was in a warzone served as a wakeup call?” Cara shrugged. “Frederick tried to reconnect, but Rick refuses to see that his father might be interested in more than keeping the business in family hands.” Cara grinned. “I don’t know if you noticed or not, but our Rick keeps his emotions bottled up tight and gives an entirely new meaning to the word stubborn.”

  Leigh picked at a chip in the table’s laminate top. “Yeah. I kind of noticed.” She’d gone toe to toe with him more than once. Guilt still haunted her, and she doubted it would ever leave. He’d known that going out to Addie’s house was a bad idea. She hadn’t been able to see past her own desire to help the girl. Rick hadn’t been any less eager to help, he’d only wanted to keep them all safe. She had pushed and pushed until he’d given in and allowed her what was supposed to be a quick stop to drop off food and drinks for Addie. She’d gotten them all shot at, Rick injured, and herself kidnapped. Then he’d nearly killed himself rescuing her.

  “What kind of business does his family have?” She’d never put much thought into anything beyond his time with Dark Horse and him being Trent’s friend.

  She thought about Dark Horse. Their equipment. The manpower and long hours Rick insisted on paying them for. Kate had said that everyone had offered to help. They all jumped in without blinking to lend a hand because a friend was in need, even though not one of them had known Kate when trouble found her. Not one of the members had given a second’s thought to whether they would get a paycheck.

  According to Kate, when things with former Senator Bailey escalated, Rick had insisted on putting the team on Dark Horse’s payroll even though there really hadn’t even been an official business yet. He’d wanted to insure his men were taken care of while they’d been taking care of Kate.

  All that money had to come from somewhere.

  Cara tilted her head and gave her an odd look. “You really don’t know?”

  “No. I never really thought about it. He’s just Rick, a friend of the guy who’s dating my cousin Kate.” An odd feeling squirmed in her stomach. “What am I missing?”

  “His father is Frederick Evans. Head of Evans Rifle Company.”

  Good Lord! When she’d been in sixth gr
ade history, they’d briefly touched on the Evans family’s contributions during the second World War. Prior to the United States entering the war, Evans Manufacturing had been a leading name in sewing machines. They’d switched to weapon productions to assist with the war effort. Praised for their quality and reliability, they never looked back after the war ended.

  The already prominent name had only grown more so.

  Cara spoke again and Leigh realized she likely resembled a fish with her openmouthed gape. “Yeah. Rick never mentions his family history, money or connections. I doubt he ever gives it a second thought. It’s a common enough last name that most people never think twice about it. It just goes to show, money can’t buy everything.” Sadness for her friend colored Cara’s words.

  Leigh gathered her wits. Cara was right. Her upbringing had been relatively modest, but she’d never once lacked attention, a shoulder to cry on, or love. She thought of the hours she’d spent with her mother and grandmother stringing beans on the front porch or listening to music and gossiping with Kate. She wouldn’t trade those memories for the world. “No, it doesn’t.”

  Family was everything. The thought of Rick not having one was unacceptable. She was grateful he had Trent, Cara, and the Dark Horse crew, but they wouldn’t keep his home filled with activity, laughter, and love. They wouldn’t keep him warm in the cold, dark of night.

  Something squeezed tight around her heart.

  The door opened and her brother walked in carrying a couple of white paper bags. “Ladies. The finest carryout from the diner. You’ll find a selection of their gourmet sandwiches, fries, and assorted condiments.” He set the bags in the center of the table and leaned down to greet Cara with a lingering kiss. “Sorry it’s not warm food today. I have to get back out on the road. Miss you.”

  Cara laughed, quiet and husky. “You just saw me this morning. That’s been what five, six hours, tops? I think you’ll survive until this evening.”

  “Too long.” Joe stood and came to Leigh. “Brat.” He gave her a tight side hug and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back later this evening to pick you up.”

  Leigh looked from the bags of food and back to her brother. “You’re not staying for lunch?”

  “Not today. The Cline’s and the other teens’ families are meeting with a lawyer and asked me to come by. I assured Brayden I’d be there.” He nodded to the food on the table. “It’s not fancy, but there should be enough food in there for Noah, too. Holler if you need anything.” He gave them a half-wave as he headed out the door.

  Leigh watched the door shut and sighed. “He works too hard.”

  “Yep. You think we can break him of the habit?” Cara’s smile was soft as she opened the bag closest to her.

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  “Can I have a moment alone with my son?” Rick heard the familiar voice against the backdrop of chirping monitors.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Evans. I can’t leave Rick alone, not even if the president himself comes through those doors. You can just pretend I’m not here. Everything will be confidential, if need be.”

  “Oh, it’s fine, Noah. I trust you. It’s just awkward.” The source of his father’s voice remained close to the door instead of coming to sit at either side of his bed, like Leigh or his team members usually did.

  “I understand, and I wish the circumstances were better, but we’ll just have to make the best of what we have, yeah?” The fake leather in the chair to his right creaked as Noah sat his big frame in it.

  “Yes. You’re right. I need to be thankful my son is alive at all. He’s always been too hard-headed and self-reliant for his own good. Never could break him of that habit.”

  “We’re all thankful he’s alive. But can I offer a small piece of advice, sir?”

  “Of course, Noah.”

  “Rick is alive because of that stubbornness. It’s just another one of his many strengths. If he didn’t have that, he wouldn’t be the man that I know. I’d trust him with my life. Maybe it’s past time you quit trying to change him.”

  His father was silent a long moment, so long that Rick wondered if he’d silently left the room. Then he spoke quietly. “Eileen, was the same way. Once she got an idea in her head, there was no shaking it loose. They are so alike. Everyone always said he’s the spitting image of me, but he has his mother’s strength.”

  “Probably a good thing, then, since he’s always getting into trouble.” Noah was always in tune with people’s moods and often played the peacemaker. Rick had always admired him for his intuition.

  His father’s next words were quiet. “Yes. Probably a good thing. I should be going. Thank you for watching over him, Noah. If he needs anything, please don’t hesitate to call on me.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Evans. I’ll update you if his condition changes. He’s going to be just fine.”

  “I imagine so.” Without another word his father left with soft footsteps.

  Noah waited about twenty seconds before speaking. “So. How much longer are you going to play opossum? He’s worried about you. Leigh is, too.”

  Rick opened his eyes, glared at Noah and slipped back into oblivion.

  Chapter 6

  Rick carefully stepped down from Trent’s beast of a truck and shielded his eyes from the midday sun. He smiled as a little hand waved high in the air from atop a red bike. “Hi, Wick!” Though excited, Kylie’s volume was only half as loud as usual. She kept one hand firmly on the handlebar as she waved the other. She’d grown a bit since he’d first met her at the beginning of summer. He hated to see it and imagined how Joe must feel facing the dueling emotions of pride and loss every day.

  Damn, his weakness had gone far beyond the physical and into the emotional. Totally unacceptable.

  I sound like a Hallmark card.

  Finally free of the hospital’s confines, he needed to get his act together.

  “Hurry up, old man! We’ve been waiting ages for you to get your lazy ass out of bed.” Rick turned from a smiling Kylie to find Pete Taylor standing on Trent’s front porch, smiling. Damn, but the kid was a brat.

  He didn’t know what he’d do without him.

  “Even fresh out of the hospital, I can still kick your ass, Pete. Worse yet? I issue your paycheck, boy. You might want to remember that.”

  Pete’s smile might be bright, but Rick would have to be blind to miss the worry simmering in the eyes of Dark Horse’s youngest member. Guilt beat at him. He’d scared them all.

  “Get in here. Kate’s cooked enough food for an army and it’s getting cold. You know she won’t let anyone eat until we’re all present.”

  “Damn, Pete. Are you ever not hungry?” James Holloway opened the front door and stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. “You start dropping hunger hints before your foot crosses the threshold. I’m going to tell Trent you have designs on his woman.” He wore his dark hair a little longer than he had when they’d been in the National Guard, but he still stood in the same arrogant stance.

  “I have my own woman, thank you very much.” Pete poked a finger into Holloway’s chest. When the larger man glared, Pete took a big step back before continuing his goading. “Unlike you. Why is it women never stick around for more than a date or two with your ugly mug, James? Are you lacking in a certain department?”

  Holloway took a step closer to Pete, dipping his head and glaring down until they were almost nose to nose. “The only thing I’m lacking is patience with smart-mouths.” Then he ruffled the younger man’s hair. He turned to watch Rick walk up the porch steps and the worry in his gaze contrasted sharply with his next words. “Get in here, Rick. We’re tired of waiting on your sorry ass to heal.”

  “I didn’t expect to find you all waiting on me.” He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of their anger. He’d done the one thing he’d always forbid them. He’d gone in alone and unprepared.

  They had every reason to be pissed at him. Despite his words,
he saw nothing but concern in his friend’s eyes. Holloway clapped him on the back and held the door open wide. “No one can resist one of Kate’s meals.” No truer words had ever been spoken. Trent’s angel was the total package. Gorgeous, softhearted, an excellent cook, and the woman had brains, too.

  There was something far heavier, darker, in the air than a bunch of growling stomachs.

  His crew was up to something. He’d bet his last dollar on it.

  “Boss man! Have a seat.” Noah’s deep, yet quiet voice greeted him as he stepped into the cool, heavenly scented house. The big, russet haired male snatched a piece of ham from a platter Kate was loading in the open kitchen. She smacked Noah’s hand, and he bent to kiss her cheek. Noah crossed the large airy dining room to look Rick over, scanning him from head to toe as if searching for any remaining bullet holes. “About time you got back on your feet. I can babysit this crew of knuckleheads for only so long. That’s your job.”

  Noah took his usual seat on the couch. Holloway and Pete followed Rick inside then, without a word, they took their usual seats at the table. A table not set with china for Kate’s meal, but a mission planning meeting. Trent’s TV had been relocated to its workplace on the table. Pete’s laptop sat waiting at the kid’s spot beside the head of the table, cables attached to the TV.

  “Smells amazing, sweetheart. You’re spoiling the guys. They’ll never leave.” Rick turned at the sound of Trent’s voice coming from the kitchen. He’d followed them in the front door and headed straight for Kate, his world.

  For the briefest moment, as he watched Trent gently tug Kate’s shiny brown ponytail, he thought he should be surprised at how hard and fast his friend had fallen for the former beauty queen. Their love shone bright, true and deep.

 

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