Soldier's Promise

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Soldier's Promise Page 2

by Cindi Myers


  “You don’t know my mother like I do.”

  “When was the last time you spoke to her?”

  “Four years ago. Sophie was ten.”

  “People can change a lot in four years.”

  “My mom is still making poor decisions. Bringing Sophie out here proves it.”

  Carmen couldn’t argue with that. Though Sophie seemed content enough, following an itinerant preacher didn’t seem the best way to bring up a child. But before she could think of a reply, Lohmiller said, “You don’t strike me as the typical Daniel Metwater follower.”

  Knowing that he had been spying on her long enough to feel qualified to make such an assessment annoyed her. “Who do you see as his typical follower?” she asked.

  “Disconnected, discontented, idealistic. Young, white and, as far as I can tell, mostly well-off and well-educated. I’m not questioning your education, but the people who flock to someone like Metwater are searching for some idealistic world that he’s promising them.”

  Okay, so he had done his homework. But she couldn’t resist goading him. “You don’t think I’m those things?”

  “You have a job and a purpose. I doubt if most cops stay idealistic for long, even if they start that way. You seem too down-to-earth and practical to fall for all his mumbo jumbo.”

  “And I’m not white.”

  She ignored the pleasant tremor that swept through her as his gaze assessed her. “That, too. Are you Native American?”

  “You got it in one.”

  “So, if you’re not one of his followers, that means you’re here as a cop. Possibly undercover. What are you investigating?”

  Time to get her head back on the job. “I’m not going to discuss my purpose here with you.”

  “Fine. You don’t have to. You can at least give me your name—or whatever name you’re going by out here.”

  Fair enough. “My name is Carmen. Carmen Redhorse.”

  “Well, Officer Redhorse, the fact that you’re here means something is going on in camp that has the cops suspicious. And that means my sister and my mother don’t belong there.”

  “Then you need to talk to your mother and stop lurking in the wilderness,” she said. “Some people might get the wrong idea.”

  “You’re the only person who knows I’m here. I can’t control whether your ideas about me are wrong or not.”

  Had he meant the comment to sound vaguely sexual? Was he trying to provoke her, or was it just his nature? She glanced toward the canyon rim. The other women were long out of sight now. She had told them she wanted to walk back alone, to think about some things, and had promised to catch up with them later. But how long could she stay away before someone came looking for her? “Are you going to talk to your mom?” she asked Lohmiller.

  “I’ll talk to her,” he said. “And what do you think she’ll tell me?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve been hanging out with her for at least three days. You must have made some judgments about her. So, tell me what you think she’ll say when I ask her to leave Metwater’s little cult and come live with me?”

  “She’ll tell you she and Sophie are happy here, that Daniel Metwater changed her life and she doesn’t want to go with you.”

  He nodded. “Exactly. So talking to her isn’t going to be enough. I have to find a way to convince her to leave—with Sophie.”

  “That’s between you and your mother. I can’t help you.” She started to turn away, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

  “I think you can help me,” he said. “In fact, I insist.”

  She pulled away from him, resisting the urge to rub the place on her arm where he had touched her, where she imagined she could still feel the heat of his touch. She might have known he was the type who thought he could boss her around. “You can insist all you want, but I’m not going to help you.”

  “One thing I learned reading Metwater’s writings is that he hates cops,” he said. “What do you think he’ll do if I tell him he’s got one living with him, lying about who she is and spying on him?”

  Metwater would be furious if he learned she was a cop, but that didn’t mean he would do anything more than kick her out of his camp. But even though she didn’t have any proof that he was involved in anything illegal, everything she knew about him told her he was capable of violence. Still, she was a cop. She knew how to look after herself. “I could have you arrested for interfering with an investigation,” she said.

  “You could. But you’d have to deal with Metwater first.” He removed his sunglasses, and she found herself held by the intensity of his sapphire-blue eyes. His voice was a low, sexy rumble she was sure was intentional. “I’m thinking maybe you would prefer to deal with me.”

  Chapter Two

  Jake knew his words had gotten through the tough attitude she wore like a shield. A rosy flush burnished Officer Redhorse’s cheeks, and he could almost see the sparks of anger in her eyes at what he could admit was his clumsily delivered threat. He wasn’t sure if she would scream at him or go ahead and shoot him, so he hastened to try to repair the damage.

  “Look, all I’m asking is for you to help me out a little,” he said.

  “I can’t help you,” she said.

  “You can talk to my mother. Tell her you think it’s a good idea for her and Sophie to come with me.”

  “I hardly know your mother,” she said. “Why would she listen to me? And I know even less about you. I have no way of knowing if going with you is a good idea or not.”

  Couldn’t she see that he was a good guy? Well, maybe not. “Check me out,” he said. “You’ll see I don’t even have a traffic ticket.”

  “Just because you’ve never broken a law doesn’t make you a good guy. Daniel Metwater doesn’t have any traffic tickets, either.”

  He winced. Then another idea occurred to him. “Does Metwater trust you?” he asked.

  She looked as if she had tasted something sour. “I’m not sure trust is the right word.”

  “But he likes you,” Jake said. “He’s attracted to you. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’re a novelty.”

  “Because I’m not his usual white and desperate type?”

  Because that tough, don’t-touch-me attitude of yours is sexy as all get-out. But he thought better of saying that. He was already in enough trouble here. “From what I’ve seen and heard, the Prophet likes pretty much all young, attractive women—at least, the ones who follow him around and hang on his every word. If you’re working undercover in his camp, I assume you’re playing the part of devoted disciple.”

  She pressed her lips together but didn’t comment.

  “Maybe I can help you out,” he said.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “I might be able to find out things you can’t. I could talk to the men in camp, let you know what I hear.”

  She shook her head. “Talk to your mother, but leave me out of it.” She turned and walked away.

  He watched her leave, her back straight and her confident stride quickly lengthening the distance between them. Should he follow her? He was going to have to go to Metwater’s camp sooner or later to confront his mother. He would have liked to have had the pretty cop on his side. The meeting with Phoenix wasn’t going to be an easy one, and it would have been good to have an ally. But, if he had to, he’d do the job alone. He was used to working solo—he’d been on his own since he was a teenager. And he knew how to tackle tough jobs. He had already let his sister down once. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

  He waited a moment to let Carmen get ahead of him, then started to follow. He would see what she did when she got to camp, then make his decision about when to approach his mother.

  Before they reached camp, however, Carmen caught up with the other women. He was too far away to hear
what was said, but it appeared that a couple of the women greeted her. Then a figure broke from the group and ran up to Carmen. Though Jake couldn’t hear what the girl was saying, he recognized Sophie, and she was clearly agitated. Carmen put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, listening, then she and Sophie turned and headed back toward Jake.

  He walked out to meet them. Sophie stared at him, eyes wide. “Jake? Is that really you?”

  “It’s me, sis.” He held out his arms, and she ran to him and buried her head against his shoulder. The feel of her—bigger than the last time he had seen her, but still so slight and vulnerable—sent a tremor through him. He loved her so much. Why had he stayed away so long?

  “Thank God you’re here,” she said.

  He pulled her away a little, so that he could see her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why are you so upset?”

  “It’s Mama. Something’s really wrong with her.” She grabbed his hand and started leading him forward. “We have to hurry, before it’s too late.”

  * * *

  CARMEN FOLLOWED BEHIND Jake and his sister. If she had had any doubts about telling Sophie of her brother’s arrival, she knew now she had made the right decision. Sophie walked with one arm wrapped around Jake’s waist and looked up at him as if she couldn’t believe he was here. For his part, Jake studied his sister as if he couldn’t get enough of looking at her.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said as they headed toward Metwater’s camp at the foot of Mystic Mesa.

  “We were walking back to camp, and Mama just collapsed,” Sophie said. “I mean, one minute she was fine, and the next she just—fell over.” The girl looked back at Carmen. “Starfall and Sarah got a couple of the men to carry her to the Prophet. They said he would know what to do for her.”

  “Has Phoenix complained of feeling bad lately?” Carmen asked.

  “No. She’s just acted, you know, normal.” Sophie turned back to Jake. “I still can’t believe you’re here. What are you doing?”

  “I came to see you.” He tried to smile, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re growing up fast.”

  Sophie hugged him tighter. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” His eyes met Carmen’s over Sophie’s shoulder, as if challenging her to deny that his sister loved him and was glad to see him.

  “Mom’s going to be so happy to see you, too,” Sophie said.

  “Is she? She wasn’t very happy with me last time we spoke.”

  “She was just worried about you joining the military. But she’s in a different place now. A better place.” Sophie frowned. “Or she was, until this.”

  “Maybe the heat got to her,” Carmen said. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” She touched Jake’s arm. “You need to hide your gun before we get to camp. Walking in with it visible like that will only cause trouble.” She had already tucked hers back into the holster on her thigh.

  She expected him to argue, but he nodded. “Okay.” He unstrapped the holster from around his waist and stuffed it into his pack. Sophie watched, wide-eyed and silent.

  The US Forest Service allowed dispersed camping for up to two weeks outside of designated campgrounds. Through mysterious political connections, Daniel Metwater had wrangled a permit for his group to settle for an extended period in this remote area, near a natural spring at the base of a rocky mesa in the high desert landscape of Curecanti National Recreation Area. This was the third such camp the group had occupied in as many months. Like the others, it consisted of a motley collection of trucks, campers, tents and makeshift shelters, grouped in a rough oval around a central campfire.

  A large, late-model motor home was parked at one end of the oval, solar panels winking from the roof. “That’s where the Prophet lives,” Sophie whispered to Jake.

  “Starfall.” Carmen called to a woman with dark, curly hair who was wiping the face of a naked toddler outside a large, white tent. “Where is Phoenix?”

  “She’s with the Prophet,” the woman said. She stared openly at Jake. “Who is he?”

  “This is my big brother, Jake,” Sophie said. “He wants to see Mom. Is she okay?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Starfall said. “She’s resting now and shouldn’t be disturbed.”

  “Is your Prophet a doctor?” Jake asked.

  Though Starfall was at least a foot shorter than Jake, she managed to look down her nose at him. “He is a spiritual healer.”

  Jake started toward the motor home, but Sophie held him back. “We’re not supposed to go into the Prophet’s home without an invitation,” she said.

  “I’m not one of his followers,” Jake said. “I don’t have to play by his rules.” He gently uncurled her fingers from around his arm and started for the motor home again, Carmen close behind him.

  Sophie caught up with them as they climbed the steps to the RV. Jake pounded on the door.

  He had raised his fist to knock again when the door eased open, and a pale blonde peered out. Andi Mattheson—who now went by the single moniker Asteria—was one of the reasons Carmen had joined Metwater’s Family. The daughter of a former US senator was eight months pregnant and, as far as Carmen could determine, hadn’t seen a doctor in months. So many of the Prophet’s followers were young women who were either pregnant or mothers to small children that Carmen wanted to determine if they were receiving the necessary care. Andi frowned at the tall, imposing man leaning over her, then looked past him to Carmen. “What do you want?” she asked.

  “We’re here to see Phoenix,” Jake said.

  “This is Phoenix’s son, Jake Lohmiller.” Carmen stepped up beside him. “Sophie told us her mother had fainted and, naturally, he’s concerned.”

  “She’s fine,” Andi said. “She just needs to rest.” She started to close the door, but Jake flattened his hand against it, holding it open.

  “I want to see her,” he said.

  “The Prophet—” Andi began.

  Jake didn’t let her finish. He shoved past her into the motor home. Carmen and Sophie followed. “Phoenix?” he called.

  “Mama?” Sophie echoed.

  Daniel Metwater, dressed in his usual outfit of loose, white shirt and trousers, his dark, curly hair framing the intensely handsome face of a male model, appeared in the doorway that led to the back of the RV. “What is the meaning of this disturbance?” he asked.

  “I’m here to see Phoenix.” Jake started to move past Metwater, but the Prophet blocked him.

  “Phoenix is resting,” he said.

  “I’m going to see her anyway.” He took Metwater by the shoulders and shoved him aside. One of the muscular young men Metwater kept near him as bodyguards rushed forward, but Jake ignored him and charged into the bedroom. Carmen followed, one hand hovering over the weapon under her skirt. She didn’t want to blow her cover by drawing the gun, but Jake might not leave her any choice.

  Phoenix lay on Metwater’s bed and, with her whitish hair and her face so pale, she almost blended with the sheets. As Jake reached her, the bodyguard grabbed his arm. “No!” Phoenix sat up, one arm outstretched. “Don’t hurt him, please!”

  Jake’s thunderous expression softened. He sat on the edge of the bed and took Phoenix’s hand. “Hello, Mom.”

  Her smile transformed her face. “Jake. What a wonderful surprise!” She cupped his face in her hands, as if needing to reassure herself he was real. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.” She managed a wavering smile. “I just got too hot out there or I didn’t drink enough water or something.” She wrapped both of her hands around his. “It’s so good to see you. How did you ever find me?”

  “It wasn’t easy,” he said. “I talked to a lot of people. One of your old friends from Denver mentioned you’d taken up with some millionai
re turned preacher. I did some more digging and heard about this group and came out here to see if you were with them.”

  “I kept meaning to write and let you know Sophie and I were okay and that you shouldn’t worry. You always were such a worrier.”

  “You shouldn’t disappear that way,” Jake said. “What were you thinking?”

  Phoenix licked her pale lips. “Do your grandparents know I’m here?” she asked.

  “No. Not yet.”

  She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes. “Don’t tell them, please. There’s really no need for them to know.”

  He looked as if he wanted to argue that point but pressed his lips together and said nothing.

  Metwater moved to the other side of the bed and took Phoenix’s hand. “What are you doing here?” he asked Jake.

  “I came to see my mother.”

  “This is my son.” Opening her eyes, Phoenix struggled to a sitting position once more. “Jake, this is the Prophet. The man who saved my life.” She beamed at Metwater, the adoration making Carmen a little sick to her stomach. Frankly, the Prophet, for all his good looks and charm—or possibly because of them—gave her the creeps.

  “You need to leave now,” Metwater said. “You’re obviously upsetting your mother.”

  “Oh, no!” Phoenix protested. “We haven’t even had a chance to talk. And I’m feeling much better, I promise.” She started to get out of bed, but Metwater pushed her back against the pillows once more.

  “I can feel your pulse racing,” he said. “All this excitement isn’t good for you.” He turned to Jake. “You can see your mother later. Tomorrow, after she’s had a chance to rest.”

  “Or I could take her with me now,” he said. “To a doctor who can check her out. Someplace safe.”

  “Jake, I don’t need a doctor,” Phoenix protested. “And why wouldn’t I be safe here? The Prophet has given me his own bed. I don’t deserve such an honor.”

  “Mother, I came to take you away from here. You and Sophie.”

  Carmen winced. Not the way to approach this.

  Phoenix laughed. “Don’t be silly, Jake. This is my home. Our home. We’re not going anywhere.”

 

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