by Eileen Green
Looking at the woman, Blair realized she still had hold of Lyndee’s arm. She released it. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know you’re worried, Blair,” Lyndee whispered. “We’ll work it all out.”
Blair gave a little laugh. “Thank you.”
Lyndee moved around and sat between two of her men, the two brothers. The third husband was eating but holding their baby in his other arm. The men here were so attentive of the women and children, and so protective.
Connor had sat back down. He looked at Brock and Tanner and asked, “Aren’t you guys going to eat? If you don’t get something now, these guys aren’t going to leave anything after seconds.”
The two loves of her life muttered something she couldn’t understand. They stood and moved over to get a plate. They each got iced tea and were back at the table within minutes. She felt guilty that they picked at their food, but she wasn’t going to nag them. Too much time had gone under that bridge.
* * * *
The food was probably going to taste like cardboard. He was sure it was good by the way people were complimenting Blair and Glen. However, Brock’s stomach was upset, and he was still trying to wrap his whole brain around what was taking place.
Sitting across the table from him was the only woman he had ever loved. He had dated a few women after Martha. No! It’s Blair! However, not one of the ladies had compared to his woman, so he stopped trying. It had been probably six or seven years since his last date. Work had taken over any thoughts of women. In fact, very rarely did he come to town. Perhaps if he had, he would have seen Blair sooner.
Of course, there was no telling how that would have gone over. This was a clusterfuck as it was.
Occasionally, he would raise his eyes and glance across the table at Blair. She would take a bite of something as Connor and Virginia spoke to her.
Blair had been thin when he and Tanner had dated her, and she was a knockout. Her ass was a lovely heart shape, with a handful of flesh on the sides, which gave him something to hold onto. She had full breasts with large brownish nipples, which paired nicely with her tone of skin. It was nearly a tan color but natural, which spoke of her Hispanic heritage.
Now, she looked pale and her face looked a bit gaunt. There were dark smudges under her eyes as if she wasn’t getting enough to eat or sleep. If she was trying to avoid people, he had to wonder how many hours a day she put in at the diner, and what she did in her downtime.
A niggling thought kept creeping up in his mind. Was she really going to do as Lyndee suggested, or was Blair going to disappear in the middle of the night? Were Lyndee and Lawrence going to whisk her away and move her somewhere else and give her a new name, a new identity? Could he trust his friends to be true to their word and help her find a way to stay in Polson?
There was a bit of panic within him that he needed to tamp down. He kept wondering if Connor was being nice in front of everyone and was waiting until they were back at the ranch to give them the boot.
Laughter erupted from Blair when Virginia had leaned over and said something to her. The pair looked down at the other end of the table and then whispered together. It was good to see her laugh after the terror she was displaying just a little bit ago.
Brock moved his gaze around the table, looking at all the ménage families that lived in the area. If they kept growing, they were going to have to gather somewhere other than the diner for special meals.
Kids were beginning to bless the families. One woman already had three sons from her previous marriage, and Connor really didn’t think she wanted anymore. Not with three husbands.
Connor’s sister Angela and her two husbands had a baby boy over a year ago, and Lyndee and her three husbands welcomed a baby girl two months ago. Connor’s wife was ready to pop, giving both her husbands a new baby. She was scheduled for a C-section in two weeks as she had one with Nathan, and she had had a bullet hole in her, which was how the little guy had lost his leg. With the scar tissue from both, the doctor was afraid the scars would begin to separate before her due date.
He wanted what these people had, and he thought he had found it twenty years ago. But that all went to hell in a handbasket.
At the end of the table, it looked like another relationship might be in its infancy. The two officers who had come to check on the incident were sitting next to a pretty woman Brock didn’t recognize. She was a bit on the plump side with short ash-blond hair, which she had combed back in a feathery texture. He couldn’t see her eyes from where he was, but they looked dark.
With a glance back at Blair, he found her looking at him. Her greenish-brown eyes were browner now, an indication of her anger or her arousal. He had to wonder which she was feeling right now, for she didn’t look as angry as she had earlier.
Deciding, for at least now, he was going to try to enjoy himself. He took a bite of the brisket, letting the tender beef with the spices and a smoky taste dance on tongue. It was the best he ever had.
“This is great brisket,” he praised.
“Thank you,” Blair responded quickly.
He looked over at her. Her cheeks were flushed as she met his gaze and then quickly lowered hers. Wanting to keep her engaged, he asked, “What other dishes did you fix?”
Her blush remained, but she looked up at him. “The potato salad, the pasta salad, the Italian marinara. I baked the French bread along with the petits fours and the ambrosia salad.”
Looking at his plate, Brock eagerly began to eat the things she had mentioned. “It’s all so good, honey. You must have learned how to cook after you left Texas, because you couldn’t coo…” His words trailed off when he realized what he had said.
Brock wiped his mouth with his napkin, afraid to look at Blair, but he did when she said, “It’s okay. I learned when I lived in Sacramento. I did have one friend there who taught me how to cook.” Her face went sad. “She passed away about a year before I had to leave there. And, no. Before you ask, she was a seventy-two-year-old woman who had fought two bouts of breast cancer. The third bout got her. She was a special woman.”
He noticed the sob as she spoke. She did have someone she cared about to help her out for a while. His heart broke a bit knowing she had been out in the world, nearly alone and probably afraid.
* * * *
Blair knew how a germ felt under a microscope, for Brock and Tanner kept looking at her. She felt conspicuous, but it did feel good to have everything out in the open. It meant that she could look people in the eye again.
Looking at both men, her desires flared up, something that hadn’t happened since right before she left Texas. Only her men did it for her, and in the twenty years since she had to leave them, she had been celibate. Besides, how was she supposed to have a relationship with someone when she didn’t know from one day to the next if she was going to have to disappear again? She didn’t want to hurt like she had when she left Brock and Tanner behind.
With a glance at Lyndee, she had to wonder if it really was possible to live here and lead a normal life. Would these people be able to construe a story that would end her flight for safety and a real life? Then, looking back at Brock as he was digging into his food again, she wondered if she could possibly have a relationship. And she wondered if it could be with her men since she knew she would never love anyone except Brock and Tanner Tillman.
Chapter Four
The line of cars that was moving down the ranch’s driveway to Connor, Jared, and Gina’s house held Tanner’s interest. Letting out a whistle, he started for the house. Removing his work gloves, he heard his brother coming up behind him.
“I don’t want her to be alone with all those lawmen. She’ll be scared,” Tanner said, not taking his eyes from the cars.
A pickup parked close to the house. Glen got out of the driver’s side and went around to the passenger side and opened the door. He helped Blair out and then walked her up to the house.
People filed out of the other vehicles. All but one Tanner knew.
It was the man in the black suit who got out of a truck with Lyndee that concerned him.
When the two of them got to the front steps, everyone but Connor had already gone in to the house. Connor stood at the top of the steps looking down at them. He arched a nearly red brow questioningly. “I was wondering if you two were going to show up.”
“We’re going in there. She needs people there that she knows,” Brock informed Connor.
“People who love her,” Tanner added as his foot hit the first step.
“We wouldn’t have started without you two idiots. Now get inside,” Connor said, his voice stern.
Nothing had been said the night before about their jobs, and Connor hadn’t come out to talk to them first thing this morning. They figured their firing would come later in the day, so they started to work. Now, they smelled of hay and horses. Tanner hoped they didn’t offend anyone.
The two brothers made their way up into the house that was part traditional ranch with a remodeled twist where the bedrooms were after a fire had destroyed most of the back end of the structure. A new upstairs master bedroom and an additional room had been added while two new bedrooms had been rebuilt downstairs. The kitchen, living room, and dining rooms were the only part of the original house standing, along with the garage.
Everyone looked up at the door when they entered the living room. Suits and uniforms filled the room along with Lyndee, Gina, and, of course, Blair.
“Brock and Tanner Tillman, I’d like you to meet John Drake, mine and Lyndee’s boss from Denver. John, these two men knew Blair a couple of identities and locations ago.” Lawrence did the introductions.
John Drake was the suit who Tanner didn’t recognize when everyone came up the drive.
Drake appeared to be close to fifty with salt-and-pepper hair cut short. His eyes were a greenish-blue that seemed to look deep into a person when he looked at you.
“Nice to meet you,” Drake said, extending his hand in greeting.
Tanner and Brock replied in kind as one after the other shook Drake’s hand.
“There’s coffee and some muffins, Danishes, and some of Glen’s cinnamon rolls in the dining room,” Gina offered. “Why don’t you all get some before you start the meeting?”
Blair entered the living room from the hallway. Her hair, which now had streaks of gray that only enhanced her beauty, was still damp. Tanner would have loved to have been the one to take a comb and fight the tangles that always appeared after she washed it.
He remembered she used to be so patient as he would comb or brushed her long hair. The tresses felt like silk when he ran his fingers through them. Sometimes he and Brock would both comb her hair after she showered, for they wanted to touch her or make love to her.
Her eyes met his as she looked around the room. There was fear in her eyes, and he would do anything to take away that look.
Stepping around Trey Goodall and Jared Pierce, both saying good morning to her, Blair made her way over to Tanner and Brock. “What are you two doing here?” she asked, her voice timid and sedate.
“We work and live on the ranch,” Tanner began. Then feeling like a schoolboy talking to the girl he had a crush on, he shoved his hands in his front pockets. “We didn’t want you to be alone.”
A giggle escaped her, a sound he had missed over the past twenty years. “Obviously I’m not alone,” she said, motioning at people.
“Don’t get sassy, Blair,” Brock chastised, his voice low. “We wanted you to have someone from your past to be here for you.”
She clasped her hands in front of her as she looked at them. Tanner feared she was going to send them away, but he let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding when she said, “Sorry. I’m glad you’re here.”
Glancing at his brother, Tanner saw the relief in Brock’s stature. He looked back at Blair. “Can I get you some coffee and something to eat?”
“Naw,” she responded. “I’ll go with you. There’s no sense in going back to get your own.”
Blair turned and walked into the dining room, Tanner and Brock following her. He did like to look at her when she walked away, but he never wanted to see her walking away permanently again.
Her jeans weren’t tight, and she had a gray sweatshirt on that was baggy. Tanner had to wonder if it was how she normally dressed, as if she was trying to keep people from looking at her, or if she had borrowed the clothes.
Once people cleared some of the way in the dining room, he spotted two commercial-sized coffee urns sitting on a sideboard. Most likely one contained regular coffee and the other decaf. Styrofoam cups were stacked between them. The items to doctor the bitter brew sat next to the urns. Two pitchers of orange juice sat on the sideboard also.
Large platters of muffins, Danishes, and delicious-smelling cinnamon rolls sat on the table. Everyone was filling plates and cups with their choices, so they had to wait their turn.
Once they had their food and drink, they went back into the living room. A recliner had been left empty, and Brock motioned for Blair to sit. Lyndee was sitting in the one next to it, so Tanner thought it had been deliberately left open for Blair.
The two couches were filled, and the chairs from the dining room table that had been brought in were taken. People even sat on the floor. Everyone seemed to be facing the fireplace, which was lit and blazing within the rock surrounding it.
After she sat, Tanner sat on the floor next to her legs. Brock stood behind her.
“Does anyone mind eating while we talk?” John Drake asked before he took a sip of his coffee.
“Sure,” several people responded as they ate.
“As many of you know, I’m John Drake of the FBI. Agents Dwyer and Whitaker asked me here to see what we could do with this situation. The U.S. Marshals would usually be handling Witness Protection, however, there is a trust issue here and,” he said as he looked at Blair before continuing, “so we’ve decided you’d be better with those you already trust. Lawrence, why don’t you start?” Drake sat on a dining room chair after he glanced at the man.
Lawrence Whitaker, dressed in a dark gray suit, light pink button-up shirt, and a black-and-purple checkered tie, raised a remote and the TV over the fireplace came on. He put that remote down and picked up another one. Aiming it at the laptop on the coffee table he pressed a button and a Hispanic-looking man appeared on the TV screen.
Blair gasped behind Tanner and he looked up to see terror on her face. Brock sat on the arm of the recliner Blair sat in and he pulled her to his side. Tanner, wanting to console and help her through this obvious painful presentation, wrapped an arm around her legs.
“I’m sorry, Blair. I should have warned you.” Lawrence Whitaker apologized. Blair nodded at him. However, the tightness in her body and the fear in her face remained.
Lawrence continued. “I checked into the Perez cartel. Juan Perez is fighting stage four pancreatic cancer. Apparently, his lavish eating habits, the endless cigars he’s seen with, the drinking, and most likely not getting appropriate health care caught up with him. In March, we sent in a Seal team in to rescue an American doctor abducted by Perez’s men to help treat him. The doctor”—there was a pause while Lawrence changed the picture on the screen of the man who had been abducted—“The doctor is Michael Osbourne with Doctors Without Borders. He was working in a small village about fifty miles south of Buenaventura, Columbia, helping with an influenza outbreak. He and a nurse were taken, but the nurse’s body was found several days later. From the injuries she had sustained, it appears she struggled and fell.
“Dr. Osbourne informed us that Perez probably has a month or two to live, if even that. He will most likely be hopped up on morphine until his death, unable to give a decent order. There is discord within the ranks as he doesn’t have any sons to take over for him. An illegitimate daughter, Catalina Moraga, is trying to force her way in, but the lieutenants are fighting her. The one thing that they have against her is that she doesn’t know the business. It was ru
mored that Miguel De La Cruz, Blair’s uncle, was being groomed for the position after marrying Perez’s niece. Since then, many men have been vying for the role, especially since he was given a terminal prognosis.”
Drake set his coffee cup on the side table beside him. “I believe we can use their internal distress to take care of this situation with Blair,” he said as he nodded at Lawrence. Lawrence pressed a button on the remote, and the screen went blue. “With Perez being in his last days, he may not be intent on seeking Blair out any more, but if he is looking at her as an end he wants to tie up, we need to be attentive on keeping her safe.”
“I have been searching the dark web for any scuttlebutt on Perez’s movements,” a man who Tanner didn’t recognize said from next to Lawrence. He too was in a suit and tie. “There is a half-million-dollar bounty on the head of Marina De La Cruz. Three names Blair has gone by are included in it. By the looks of it, they don’t know about Blair Anderson or that she lives here in Polson. New Orleans is a hot spot for drug dealers. Sweetwater is closer to the Mexican border and with a higher probability of being discovered. Sacramento has been having issues with gangs fighting for supremacy, and they have a high Hispanic population there. It’s not a surprise that Blair was discovered in all three places.
“Polson is out of the way, and with its location to the Canadian border, there is a lower chance of being noticed. The unfortunate issue is that we have already had issues with the Russian mob here, along with the Irish mob. I’m afraid it’s going to become more noticeable. However, no one wants to go up against the Russians, no matter who the organization is. We could use that to our favor. As of right now, there is nothing to indicate a hit man in the area, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Also, with a bounty that large, anyone could try to cash in.”
A chill snaked its way through Tanner at the man’s words. He couldn’t believe there were people out there trying to hunt his woman down. A glance over at his brother told him he was terrified also.