NOMAD (Sons of Sanctuary Book 3)

by Victoria Danann

  “Don’t know,” he replied.

  The federale walking next to Cann said, “They’re here for you.”

  “Me?”

  The man glanced back at Bud. “And her.”

  The minute they stepped onto U.S. soil, Russell stepped in front of Cann. “Put your wrists together.” Cann complied. Russell snapped handcuffs on him and said, “This isn’t procedure, as I’m sure you know, but you’re comin’ voluntarily. Right?”

  “Yeah,” Cann said. “Voluntarily.”

  TV reporters and cameras tried to get close. The three Rangers with Russell kept them at a reasonable distance, but they shouted questions at Cann.

  “Cannon! What do you have to say to your fans?”

  Cann looked at Russell, bewildered. “Fans?”

  A faint smile traced Russell’s mouth as he shook his head. “Thought I’d seen it all, son. But this is a first for me, too.”

  Cann turned to see Bud swarmed by reporters. He found Brant in the crowd and saw that he was seconds away from shoving people out of the way and rescuing her.

  Bud never took her eyes off Cann. Just before he was put in the Ranger SUV he said, “Don’t worry.”

  She couldn’t hear him, but she knew what he said. She held up three fingers. When he realized what she meant, he grinned.

  The reporter closest to Bud put a microphone next to her face and said, “People are eager to hear your story. What do you have to say?”

  Her father reached her before Brant. He stepped in front of the mic and said, “She doesn’t have anything to say. Now get out of the way and let us pass.” He grabbed Bud’s elbow, but she jerked it away.

  “Don’t touch me. And don’t speak for me either.” She turned to the reporter who asked the question. “This is my father. He planned to have my baby aborted against my will. So I ran and the angels were smiling when a stranger named Cannon Johns found me. When he heard my story, he helped me get away until I turned eighteen. Today. He helped me save the life of my baby, knowing the risk.”

  “So Cannon Johns is not the father of your baby?”

  She shook her head. “No. He’s not my lover. But he is my hero. And he’s not the one who should be in jail. It’s my daddy who ought to be in jail.”

  Everyone present turned in unison to register the look of shock on the Ranger’s face at being publicly called out by his daughter.

  Then Bud saw Brant elbowing his way through the people like a linebacker. As soon as he was within reach, she stretched out her hand so he could pull her to him. He put a big arm around her shoulders and slowly began to move her through the throng.

  Pro Life advocates lined the road, most carrying signs. She heard constant shouts of, “God Bless You”.

  It took almost half an hour to make their way to where Garland waited. She sat waiting patiently behind the wheel, but wore lines of concern on her face. Brant put Bud in the front passenger seat next to his wife and got in back. And even then, the crowd didn’t want to let the car go.

  Little by little Garland ooched forward, eager to leave, but not wanting injury on her conscience.

  When they were finally clear, Garland turned to Bud and said, “I’m Garland. Happy birthday.”

  “Doesn’t feel happy.”

  “Well, it should.” Garland smiled. “You’re baking the best kind of baby. The kind that’s really, really wanted. By the way, I like your bag.”

  Without hesitation Bud said, “You can have it. It’s the least I can do. Since you picked me up and all.”

  Garland was so touched she was speechless. She assumed the girl didn’t know that the car’s driver was one of the richest women in the world. “That is very generous of you, but I think you need a bag of your own.” She smiled. “Brant will buy me one, won’t you?”

  Brant huffed. “Jesus.”

  Bud swiveled in her seat belt so that she could see Brant in the backseat. “Is that every biker’s favorite word?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Well, either you’re a seriously religious bunch or you’re in trouble for… I forgot what they call it.”

  “Blasphemy?” Garland supplied.

  “Yeah. Blasphemy.” She faced forward again. “I’m worried about Johns.”

  “You call him Johns?” Brant asked from the backseat. She nodded, but didn’t answer. “So, if I understand the situation correctly, you’re homeless, jobless, got no prospects, but you’re worried about Cann?”

  “He’s the one in handcuffs. I’m the one in the cushy car on her way to lunch.”

  “We didn’t have lunch either,” Garland said. “What’re we having?”

  Brant pulled out his phone. “We can stop in Uvalde.”

  “How far is that?” Bud asked.

  “’Bout an hour. The way my wife drives it might be forty-five minutes.”

  “There’s a place on the way called Lunker’s Grill. Burgers. Chicken fried steak. How’s that sound?”

  “Burger. Yes! Cann wouldn’t let me eat anything good since we crossed into Mexico. He kept going, ‘That’s not safe. That’s not safe either’. He wouldn’t even let me have my birthday cupcake.”

  After a pregnant pause, Brant said, “Cann got you a birthday cupcake?”

  Garland caught Brant’s gaze in the rearview mirror and the two of them exchanged a look.

  “Did you make a wish?” Garland asked.

  Bud smiled. “Oh, yeah. I wished that he wouldn’t have to spend more than three nights in jail.”

  “Why three nights? Why not one or five? Or none?” Garland asked.

  Bud related the whole story about the pool, the bathrobe, the Bloody Mary, and The Secret.

  “And he said, ‘I don’t want to spend more than three nights in jail’.”

  Garland looked at Brant in the rearview mirror again. He knew that look.

  Brant pressed Brash’s contact number.

  “What’s happenin’?” said Brash when he saw it was his dad calling.

  “Got the package. Russ has got Cann. Want you to find out which federal judge he’ll be in front of. See if you can pinpoint his heart’s desire.”

  Brash grinned into the phone. “I will, but there’re already a whole bunch of powerful reasons for the judge to see things our way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Pro Lifers all over the news. They’re gathering outside District Court and over at the capitol, too. Demanding Cann’s release. Never saw anything like it. All these church folk demandin’ release of a biker?” He laughed. “You gotta admit it’s a twist of fate.”

  “That it is.”

  “Preachers are down there with ‘em. They’ve been interviewed by the local news stations. All say the same thing. That we ought to be erecting a statue of Cannon Johns, not puttin’ him in cuffs.”

  “Hmm,” Brant grunted. “Couldn’t hurt to grease the judge anyway. I like insurance.”

  “Yeah. Those guys, the fed judges, are more prickly than usual, since they’re appointed and all.”

  “You know how to get around that.”

  “Indeed I do.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “Hey. You probably didn’t see yourself on the news.”

  “No,” Brant said slowly. “I think I’d hoped to make it safely to death without ever hearing those words.”

  Brash laughed. “That little girl did us proud. Said Cann is a hero who helped a stranger, at great risk to himself.”

  “She said that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Jesus.” Garland and Bud, who were eavesdropping, exchanged a glance. “We need to try to get him out of there before he spends a fourth night in jail.”

  “What? Why that in particular?”

  “Superstition.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Yeah. Make sure everything else is good to go. Like we talked about.”

  “On it.”

  Brant ended the call. “Garland. Stop drivin’ like an old lady. We�
��re hungry.”

  “I can’t drive fast and listen in on your calls at the same time,” Garland insisted with a touch of aggravation.

  Brant snorted. “Brash says folks are gatherin’ outside the District Court and on the capitol grounds with signs. The evangelicals want Cann released.”

  Bud perked up at that. “You think they’ll have some influence?”

  Brant grinned. “Oh yeah. The law serves the people, not the other way around. If the people make it clear that justice will be best served by releasing Cann, that’s what’ll happen.” He turned away and muttered, “One way or the other.”

  “What was that?” Bud asked.

  “We’ll get it done. Don’t worry.”

  “That’s what Cann kept saying. ‘Don’t worry’.”

  “Well, bikers like to keep our women stress-free,” Brant said.

  Garland laughed so hard at that she almost guffawed.

  When her amusement died, Bud said, “I’m not a biker’s woman.”

  Brant nodded in what might have appeared to be agreement to anyone except Garland. She wasn’t fooled and made that clear by giving him a knowing look in the rearview mirror.

  When they walked into Lunker’s Grill, several patrons did double takes and stared as Brant, Garland, and Bud were led to a table. Brant vetoed the first suggestion and asked for the booth in the far corner. He stood by the side against the wall until Garland slid in, then sat so that he was on the outside and had a view of the entire establishment. Bud had the other side all to herself.

  The waitress brought menus and said she’d be right back with water.

  When she returned she said, “You folks have had quite a day. We’re honored to have you here.” She looked at Bud. “What can I get you?”

  “I want a hamburger with everything.”

  “Cheese?”

  “Yeah.”

  “French fries?”

  “Yeah. Lots.”

  The waitress chuckled. “Okay. Lots.”

  She turned to Brant and Garland who said, “We’re havin’ what she’s havin’.”

  “And a Coke,” Bud added.

  “Three Cokes,” Brant said.

  When the waitress was gone, Brant said, “We’ve got a couple of things we’d like to discuss with you.”

  Bud glanced to Garland and back to Brant. “Okay.”

  “The club would like to make you an offer of employment.” Bud blinked twice and took a deep breath. “We have members who live at the club and others who have their own place, but stay sometimes. We keep somebody on who tends the bar and keeps it stocked, tidies up, does the grocery shopping and cooks meals a couple of times a day. Our girl who’s been doin’ the job is takin’ off. She got sweet on a biker from Tucson and he’s makin’ her his old lady. As it happens, Cann told me you have the skills that match the job requirements. You know how to cook and clean up.”

  Bud was near dumbstruck. She’d been trying not to think too hard about what was going to happen when she got to Austin. She had eight hundred dollars and some pesos to exchange, but she knew she had to get a job that would issue a paycheck soon. What Brant was saying sounded like manna from heaven.

  “I, um, don’t know how to bartend, but I can figure it out.”

  Brant gave her a warm, fatherly smile. “I have no doubt of that.

  “The job doesn’t pay six figures and there’s not much down time, but it comes with a room, a scholarship, and people who’ll care what happens to you.”

  For a minute she was afraid she’d suffered a brain blip.

  “A place to stay?” she croaked.

  “Yeah. And when you get ready to go back to school, the club will pick up the tab and make sure you have time to go to class.”

  She took a big breath. “That’s…” She couldn’t really find the words. It wasn’t just an offer she couldn’t refuse. It was everything in the world that she and the baby needed. A job. A place to stay. Maybe the safest place anywhere. And a chance to go to school.

  Garland reached over and squeezed her hand. “He forgot to tell you that it includes health benefits. I’ve already made an appointment for you to visit the obstetrician tomorrow. I’ll take you myself. If you want to accept what the club is offering, that is.”

  Bud was still speechless, but nodding her head. She felt overwhelmed, like she’d cry if she tried to make a sound.

  The waitress arrived with their burgers.

  “Wow,” said Garland. “How did you get these done so fast?”

  “Oh,” said the waitress, “this time of day we’ve always got meat on the griddle and fries in the basket. Somebody always comes through that door who wants what we’re sellin’.”

  “Smells wonderful,” said Garland, nabbing a fry. When she realized Bud wasn’t eating, she said, “What’s wrong?”

  “I just… I’m not sure how to thank you.”

  “Now listen here,” said Brant. “You don’t need to thank us. Once you start dealin’ with my boys you may decide that cussin’ me out is more appropriate.” He took a bite, started to chew and said, “Um.” He looked at Garland. “Good stuff.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  “You’ll have to learn to stand up to the men, but somehow I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem for you, darlin’.”

  She smirked at the use of darlin’. “I’ll do my best, um…”

  “Call me Brant.” He looked at his wife. “You can call her Your Highness.”

  Garland slapped his arm playfully. “Garland. Please.”

  Bud popped a French fry in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, then said, “Does, um, Johns live at the club?”

  Brant and Garland both heard the underlying sentiment in that innocent question. It wasn’t unusual for teens to have crushes on good-looking bikers, but Brant and Garland both, privately, thought it was more. The longing of a person who might be mature beyond her years.

  “He’s been away a long time,” Brant started slowly. “Had some heartache.”

  “I know,” Bud said.

  “He told you?” Brant sounded surprised.

  “Yes.” Bud nodded and Brant’s gaze flicked to Garland.

  “Well, he’s been gone a long time and he doesn’t have a place of his own. So, yeah, when we get him out, he’ll be at the club. For now. Cann requires what you might call special handling.”

  “I know.” She looked up at Brant. “I’m really grateful…”

  “Now I already told you, there’s no need for all that. It’s simple. We got a job and a place to stay. You need a job and a place to stay. After a week, you may decide you’d rather take your chances elsewhere.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I can recognize a bird nest on the ground.”

  Brant treated her to a lopsided grin that let her know he’d been a heartbreaker sometime before she was born. “That’s commendable. Not everybody knows when to grab what’s right in front of them. Cann said you’re a worthy girl.”

  “He did?” Garland had to smother her laughter at the eagerness in Bud’s tone.

  “Yeah,” said Brant. “Don’t read too much into it. Like I said, special handlin’.”

  “You think they’re gonna let him go?” Bud asked.

  Brant nodded. “Oh, yeah. I know it. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but…”

  “The next day,” she put in. “Three days. That’s what he said.”

  “If I understand the story the way you told it, that wasn’t a promise. It was a wish.”

  “Same thing.”

  Brant shook his head. “No the hell it’s not…”

  Garland put her hand on Brant’s forearm to stop him. “Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t for her. Let her live her life and find her own way. In good time she’ll either prove that up or adopt another view.”

  He smiled at his wife. “When did you get to be a font of sage wisdom?”

  “I always have been and if you don’t know that, you haven’t been paying attention.” Garland winked at Bud.


  Brant scoffed at his burger basket and took another enormous bite.

  CHAPTER Eleven

  It was about four o’clock when they pulled into the SSMC compound.

  Brash came out to meet the car. He opened Garland’s door, helped her out and gave her a kiss on the cheek with a shy smile that looked completely out of place on a wickedly handsome biker. He still wasn’t completely used to having a mom who doted on him and thought he was just plain wonderful head to toe.

  “Brash, this is Bud,” she said.

  “Welcome.” He gave Bud a glance and then turned his attention to his dad.

  “You got news?” Brant asked. Brash nodded slightly. “Okay then.” To Garland he said, “Can you show her around?”

  “Of course,” Garland answered.

  “Oh. And I need one of you women to take her shopping. Cann said she doesn’t have any clothes, but she does have some money.”

  Garland practically squealed. “My favorite sort of circumstance. When need and money meet, there’s a good time to be had by all.”

  Bud smiled, but said, “I don’t think I ought to spend money on…”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Garland. “No right-headed woman turns down clothes. It’s a rule.”

  “Well…”

  “The subject is closed. We’ll go shopping tomorrow after your appointment.”

  “I…”

  “Come on. Brant said to show you around so that’s what we must do. The king has spoken.”

  “Do you live here, too?”

  Garland laughed. “No. We have a place close to downtown, overlooking the river. We’ll have you over one of these days.”

  “That would be nice.”

  Garland reached over and put Bud’s hair behind her shoulder. It didn’t need to be done. It was an affectionate gesture that had Bud wondering what it would have been like if her mom had lived. Perhaps Garland was also wondering what it would have been like to have a daughter.

  Everyone turned to look when Garland and Bud came through the door. Brant and Brash had already disappeared into Brant’s office.

  “Brenda, this is Bud. Your replacement. You do a good job of showing her the ropes and there’ll be a nice farewell bonus in it for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brenda smiled at Garland and at Bud. She was a sweet-looking woman in her late twenties with a round face, strawberry-blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and a full figure. But the important thing was that her welcome seemed sincere. “First thing tomorrow?”