Brody Judge (Heartbreakers & Heroes Book 5)

by Ciana Stone

  “Sadie Rockler. At least that’s what Jo said. I’ve been meaning to look her up but keep forgetting.”

  “Mason?” Savannah touched his arm, and he looked at her.

  “What’s wrong?” Savannah asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just a sad tale. And doesn’t solve our mystery here. But who knows, she might have suffered her share of tragedy. Maybe that’s why she’s not very talkative. You just never know.”

  “Oh God, you’re right.” Savannah agreed and directed her attention to Cody. “Should we reach out to her?”

  “Or just leave her be.” Mason spoke up before Cody had a chance and added. “If she’s keeping herself apart from others, it may be by choice. Why not give her some time? If she wants to make friends, I’m sure she’ll let people know.”

  “Well, it’s not really the way things work around here,” Cody said in a joking manner.

  “Well, maybe every now and then it should be.” Mason remarked in a somewhat sharp tone and then added. “I forgot to get the soft drinks and beer from the car. I’ll be back.”

  Everyone watched as he hurried away, and Cody looked at Savannah. “What’s up with Mason?”

  “I wish I knew.” Savannah said. “Seems like mysteries are on the rise in Cotton Creek.”

  Chapter Four

  She spotted him waiting at the start of the obstacle course and almost turned back. Besting this obstacle course appealed to Sadie more than her. She would have happily stayed in bed, but Catherine woke her and made her get dressed. If she didn’t run the course, Sadie would find out and be in a foul mood.

  And when Sadie fell into a foul mood everyone suffered. She hoped Sadie hadn't figured out the added appeal to go run the course, namely what she saw right now. Her heartbeat accelerated as she watched the handsome man walk toward her.

  “I wondered if you’d come.” She'd never seen a smile as sexy as his.

  “Here I am.” She held her hands out to her sides.

  “I’m glad. Although to be honest, the times I’ve run with you are a lot tougher than when I run alone.”

  “No way. I have a hell of a time keeping up with you.”

  “Yeah right. Girl, you kill it.”

  “I wish.”

  “Are you ready or do you want to warm up?”

  “Warm up.”

  As they stretched, Brody's attention remained on her. “I know you must be new here. I haven’t seen you around except on the course.”

  “Yes. I haven’t been here long. What about you?”

  “I’m just here for a short time, while I’m on leave.”

  “So, you’re in the military?”

  “Yes, SEALs.”

  “Thank you for your service.” Her words surprised and pleased him.

  “Happy to serve, ma’am.”

  That earned him a smile. “Are you ready?”

  “Born that way. You?”

  “Well, I’ve never done it with a SEAL, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  Brody got the impression that her flirty play on words surprised her as much as it delighted him.

  “All righty then, let’s get to it. Want a head start?”

  “You know it.”

  With that she took off. Brody waited a full fifteen seconds before he started after her and found himself thinking it would have been wise to cut that down to five. She ran fast and strong.

  He didn’t catch up with her until they reached the hand-over-hand rope traverse. Men possessed more upper body strength, and he had a good death grip thanks to the free-climbing he did, which gave him a bit of an advantage.

  That advantage diminished when they reached the tires. Despite her legs being shorter she was agile and fast, and high-stepped through that section with ease. Brody could honestly say he’d never enjoyed running the course more. Watching her definitely spurred him to perform better. Once she slipped in a muddy section and fell flat on her ass. She laughed, got to her feet and kept going.

  He laughed with her and then later, at himself when he took a slide. The time sped by until they crossed the finish line, breathing hard and both of them dirty.

  “You seriously put half the recruits to shame,” he complimented her.

  “I don’t know about that. Running it with you is a lot tougher.”

  “It doesn’t look that way.”

  “Looks are definitely deceiving. My body will hate me tomorrow.”

  “Does that mean you won’t be coming back tomorrow for more?”

  “Depends on whether I can get out of the bed. But thank you again for doing it with me.”

  “Definitely my pleasure. And thanks for the conversation. This is the first time we’ve done more than grunt at one another while on the course.”

  “Yes, it’s been nice.”

  “It has. And I was wondering. Would you want to have dinner sometime?”

  Her expression changed, and she backed away from him. “I have to go. Thanks again.”

  She didn’t give him time to say anything else before she turned and ran. Brody watched her go and then headed back to the other side. He found Mathias standing at the fence.

  “Running the course with the mystery woman again, eh?”

  Brody grinned. “Man, she seriously kills it. I felt about a hundred out there.”

  “Didn’t look it brother. Did you learn anything about her?”

  “Yeah, she can kick most of the recruits’ asses and she has a sense of humor.”

  “Is that all?”

  “It’s a start.” Brody grinned and headed for the barracks to get cleaned up before he officially started his day.

  *****

  "He’s really sexy and strong and seems kind," she said as she washed her hair. “Sadie would hate him. Not because of that but because I think he’s sexy. She hates anyone I like and you too. If you like him, she will definitely hate him.”

  “You can’t let her know you go run the course with him.”

  “You mean I can’t let her know we do.”

  “Same thing. We have to keep her in the dark.”

  “I’m trying.” She finished rinsing her hair and turned off the water.

  “You need to try harder.”

  “I will, I promise.” She wrung the water from her hair and pulled back the shower curtain. “I so wish she would go away and leave us alone. Life would be so much easier without Sadie around.”

  “I know, but I don’t know how to make her go away and until I do, we have to be careful and not upset her.”

  “Okay. I’ll do my best. But if she keeps stealing my diary--"

  “Let it go, okay? She tears out most of the pages she writes or draws on anyway.”

  “Because she doesn’t want us to know what she wrote.” She grabbed a towel and started to dry off.

  “It’s not important.”

  “Hold on.” She stopped drying. “Do you know what she writes?”

  “I said it’s not important. Now finish up and let’s go run our errands. If you hurry we might be able to find an empty table at the window in the diner.”

  That sounded like a wonderful idea. Sitting in front of the window, having breakfast and watching the people on the sidewalks and the cars going by was pleasant. Everyone looked happy, and it made her think perhaps this place could be one where she could learn to be one of those happy people, too.

  *****

  She didn't spot a free table at the diner, so she headed down the block and across the street to the bakery. She needed to give Mrs. Sweet her rent check anyway for the upcoming month, so she decided that if there was a table by a window available, she’d treat herself to a coffee and a sweet roll.

  A mouth-watering aroma enveloped her the moment she walked in and made her stomach rumble. The beautiful blonde woman with the kind smile who stood behind the counter greeted her in a friendly tone.

  “Well, hello there, Catherine. How are you this beautiful morning?”

  “Just fine, Mrs. Sweet. A
nd you?”

  “Couldn’t be better. Can I interest you in a croissant or sweet roll? I have fritters fresh out of the oven.”

  “Oh, I would love a fritter and a coffee.” She’d already spotted an empty table by one of the windows that looked out of the front toward the street. “And I wanted to bring by the rent check.”

  She dug into her messenger bag and fished out the check. Since she didn't have a bank account, she’d gotten a cashier's check at the bank yesterday.

  “Oh, honey, you’re not due yet. You’ve still got two weeks until the first of the month.”

  “I don’t like being late.” She handed Mrs. Sweet the check.

  “Well, thank you, hon.” Stella stuck it in the pocket of her apron. “Now you go help yourself to coffee and I’ll dish you up an extra fat fritter and bring it out to you.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Sweet.”

  “You don’t mention it.”

  Catherine got busy at the coffee station, pouring herself a big cup of French Roast coffee and adding a generous spoon of sugar and an extra helping of the French vanilla creamer she favored. She carried the cup to the vacant table she’d spotted, set it down, and pulled out her notebook and pen which she placed on the table.

  Once seated, she sampled the coffee, closed her eyes and literally sighed in pleasure. Why had she not been coming here when she came into town? The coffee was divine.

  “Here you go, sweetie.” Mrs. Sweet set a plate on the table, along with a napkin and a fork. Baked to a golden brown, sweet thick filling oozed from the fritter.

  “Wow, that looks amazing. Thank you.”

  “You enjoy.”

  Catherine wasted no time sampling the fritter and nearly moaned in delight. Yes, she was definitely going to have to start coming here. Not only was the coffee and the fritter delicious but it wasn’t as noisy as the diner.

  Not that it was empty. Almost all the tables were filled, but the clanking of plates and silverware as tables were bussed, the voices of servers calling out their orders to the cooks and the loud voices of patrons was missing. Here the voices were more subdued, and the atmosphere one of comfort. She liked it and felt far more at ease here.

  Catherine watched through the window as she ate her fritter, enjoying the moment and paying no attention to the comings and goings in the bakery. Until some spoke beside her.

  “Excuse me, but are you Sadie Rockler?”

  Catherine nearly jumped out of her skin and almost choked on her fritter.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” The beautiful woman with skin that bespoke of Native heritage apologized. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Sorry. And no. I’m not. Sadie, I mean.”

  “My apology. May I?” The woman gestured to the chair on the other side of Catherine’s table.

  “Oh yes, of course.” She didn’t really want to have a conversation but didn't see a way to politely refuse.

  “You look amazingly like Miss Rockler. At least from the photos I’ve seen. And another apology for my manners or lack thereof. I’m Jolene Weathers.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jolene. I’m Catherine.” She hoped she didn’t look as sick as she now felt. “Who is Sadie Rockler, if I may ask?”

  “Oh, she was a rather famous photographer a few years back.”

  “Was?”

  “Yes, according to reports, she and a man − I think either her husband or boyfriend, were killed in a terrible accident in Europe.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “It is. So, Catherine, what brings you to Cotton Creek?”

  “Nothing really. It just seemed like a nice place.”

  “Oh, it is. The people here are wonderful. In fact, you should join the girls and I for breakfast on Wednesday. We get together at the diner once a week. You’d love them. There’s Cody and Hannah, who own the Honky Tonk Angels bar and Grille. Mrs. Sweet is their mother. And then there’s Savannah who owns the spa and Liz who raises thoroughbreds and Callie, my sister-in-law and oh, Mica. She’s a cutler and makes the most gorgeous knives and Etta who works over at Sanctuary and Charli—wow, Charli’s a deputy and looks like Wonder Woman. And damn, listen to me go on. The point is, there are a lot of nice people here.”

  Despite having no desire at all to get together with a bunch of people, Catherine smiled at the enthusiastic tone in Jolene’s voice. “I believe you. Everyone I’ve met has been so kind and maybe one day. Right now, I’m just getting a feel for the place.”

  “I get it and I really didn’t mean to be so pushy.”

  “Oh, you weren’t.”

  “You’re kind. And I should go. But, before I do.” She fished a card from her purse. “My cell number’s on this so if you change your mind about breakfast, or want to grab lunch with me one day, give me a call.”

  “Thank you, Jolene. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Hope to see you soon.”

  “Me too.” Catherine watched her leave and then picked up her coffee cup. What would it feel like to have so many friends, to belong to a place and feel you were home? She had no idea.

  Once she’d asked Trina if she knew what it felt like to belong. Trina said it’d been so long since she knew what home was, she’d forgotten, but she wished more than anything she could find a place where she could belong. And could find a way to rid herself of the demons that lurked in the dark, waiting to drag her down with them and never let her see light again.

  That was another thing she shared with Trina. They both feared the demons who waited to drag them down into the darkness.

  Chapter Five

  Brody and JJ both bent over the engine of the car parked in Sanctuary’s garage. Grady had given Brody permission to use it to work on the 1958 Thunderbird he’d bought from Jimmy Johnson, the man who owned the auto repair and body shop in Cotton Creek.

  He, Mathias and JJ had been working on the car. Today, it was just Brody and JJ. “So, you gonna hang around for a while?” JJ asked.

  “Just using up my leave.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Yep.”

  “The way I hear it, you have a thing going with the mystery woman.”

  “You hear wrong. Pass me that spacer. So, what about you? You gonna stay?”

  “You know I am.”

  “You're not going to miss active duty?”

  “I might, but not as much as I’d miss Etta. Life is full of choices, bro. You just have to make your decision based on what you want the most.”

  “And you want Doc.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Well, I can't blame you. She's pretty amazing.”

  “Yes, she is. But back to you and this mystery gal. What’s really going on there?”

  “I wish to heck I knew. Seriously, man. She shows up, runs the course with me then runs away. I think we’ve had one real conversation and still I couldn’t get her name.”

  “But you’re interested?”

  “Well, who wouldn’t be? She’s freaking hot.”

  “Then what are you gonna do about it, SEAL?”

  “Hope one day she doesn’t run away.”

  They both laughed, JJ because he knew Brody well enough to know Brody would keep flirting and sooner or later she’d give in. And Brody, to cover the fact he was way more interested in this woman than he let on.

  *****

  Dear God, what have you done, Sadie? She sat back down at the table and stared at the email displayed on the screen of the computer. Fear clawed at her. She looked around to make sure no one was watching and propped her elbows on the table with hands steepled and fingers clasped except for her index fingers, which pressed against her bottom lip.

  There was no doubt of the authenticity of the email, and she didn’t believe Sadie would have erred in the address she’d used. It was one Sadie had hacked from the small public library. What troubled her was the same thing that had concerned her for the last two years. Could she trust what she remembered? During those times of clarity, thi
ngs were so sharply in focus it was like knives in her brain.

  Unfortunately, the sharpness was a herald of something much worse. Following closely on its heels, fear swept in to swath her in its thick folds and imprison her in torment far worse than any physical pain.

  As frightening as the murky haze was that stole her memories from her, it was almost a welcome respite and during those foggy times she wondered how long she could survive being bounced from one hell to the other.

  Surely, she’d reach a point where she would simply fly apart and scatter to the winds.

  Sometimes she wished for it.

  Other times, a rush of determination would fill her, compelling her to cling to the pain of clarity as long as possible, to write down what she remembered. Sometimes the pain was too great, and she could not form the words. During those times, she drew the memories.

  More often than not, she destroyed what she wrote and drew. She couldn’t gamble on someone else reading or seeing it. Disturbingly, there were times when she simply discovered written pages or drawings.

  Like the scene she’d found that had been drawn the other day as she sat in the diner. It was a street scene, a small town by all appearances, but not Cotton Creek. Not being able to recognize the place was frustrating her to the point of anger.

  And anger had fueled more clarity, which ultimately led her to where she now sat, reading a response to an email Sadie had sent.

  It was short and to the point but nonetheless, she read it again, for what must have been the twentieth time.

  You will be contacted.

  You will be contacted. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or fear, but it was too late to change anything. They now knew where she was or more accurately how to find Sadie, so running was out of the question.

  Perhaps the time of running should end. She was tired of it, tired of not knowing, of being afraid to know and of needing to know.

  Yes, maybe it was time. She deleted the email, picked up her notebook, tucked it into the worn backpack and slung one strap of the bag over her shoulder as she stood. She’d go home and wait for whatever was to come.