The Ranger

by Angi Morgan

  “I gave the driver our number. He’s going to check with us next time. He said he thought his charter company had called. Thanks for suggesting some of the customers shop before eating.”

  She gathered the bills from the cash register and went to the back room to place the bag in the safe. She’d make the deposit on her day off or take a break when one of the part-timers worked.

  “For a morning that started out questionable,” Mitch said from the front of the café, “it turned out well for you.” He stepped away from the jukebox and her favorite song started playing.

  It brought a smile to her lips every time she heard it. Tonight was no exception. Especially since Mitch had chosen something she liked. So he’d noticed what music she played when she was here alone? Duh. He could hear it in his room at the back of the garage.

  “You’re absolutely right. A bad start but an awesome finish.” She took the hand he extended and swung into his arms. When their fingers touched she thought about Rey wanting her to get Mitch away from the garage. Only a split-second thought because she was ready for a moment of not thinking at all. A moment to let her mind rest and just feel nice swaying to the music.

  Feeling Mitch’s arms around didn’t hurt, either. He was an expert dancer and it was so easy to lean her ear against his chest and let him weave them between the tables. She could sweep and mop early in the morning.

  Right now, it felt wonderful being held by someone taller than herself. She loved having her son’s arms around her and missed him terribly on days like today when she worked from open to close. But there was something about a man guiding you around a dance floor, trusting him to protect you.

  “I can’t remember the last time I went dancing. Probably before Toby was born.”

  “No talking. Just enjoy the music.”

  Brandie relaxed and let him lead with confidence. The next song was country swing. With gentle nudges at her waist, his strong hands had her performing fancy dance moves she’d never dreamed of before. When the song was over they were both laughing, and she leaned in to hug him.

  “That felt so good.” She craned her neck backward to look up into his eyes.

  “Then we need to do it again.” He leaned toward her.

  Brandie didn’t dodge him. His lips were amazingly soft for a man, but still firm. Tall, lean, comforting, protective, strong...all were good words to describe him. The scruff from his five o’clock shadow teased her cheek, and she kissed him back, drinking in his taste and trying to remember the last exciting thrill she’d had.

  Then it hit her. The last dance and intimate kiss had been saying goodbye. She jerked back, bumping into a table and scooting the chair a little across the floor. “I...um...I’m afraid I’ve given you the wrong impression, Mitch.”

  “It was just a kiss. I doubt your boyfriend will get upset.”

  Not a boyfriend. But Rey would be more upset that she hadn’t let the kiss continue and progress to an overnight stay at her house.

  “Oh, I’m not dating anyone. I can’t. I don’t have any intention of dating at all. I have a son to raise. There’s just no time for a relationship.”

  “I wouldn’t think a dance and kiss meant we had a relationship. But let’s say it does. What’s wrong with a man in your life who understands your commitments and doesn’t want to take you away from them? I like Toby. He’s a terrific kid. You’ve done a great job.” He took a step, pushed his hand through his hair.

  He had a very frustrated look on his face that didn’t match the complimentary words he spoke aloud.

  “Thanks, that means a lot. I better lock up now.” She fished the keys from her pocket and was ready to think more about their moment once she got home.

  He snagged her hand and twirled her back in front of him. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s the big deal about having a little fun? I’d love it if Toby could come, too.”

  “It’s going to just break his heart when you leave.” Hers was going to ache a little, too. “I can’t do that to him.” To us.

  “Here I am asking you on a date and you’ve got me leaving town, breaking a kid’s heart. How did that happen? You firing me for asking the boss out?”

  “No, of course not.” The bell over the door rang, letting them both know someone had walked into the café. Mitch released her.

  “Sorry, we’re closed, man. I must have forgotten to turn the sign,” Mitch said.

  She froze in her tracks. She hadn’t seen Rey King in three years and then only for a passing moment while she’d been in Alpine. Even bothering her like he had for the past six months, he’d never made the trip to Marfa. He’d always sent one of his men with a message of veiled threats about divulging the secrets her parents wanted desperately to keep.

  “Hey, buddy,” Mitch said from over her head. “Really, we’re closed. Cook’s gone home. Not even a slice of pie left.”

  Mitch took her arm and gently pulled her behind the counter.

  “How about a latte?” Rey requested as he sat on one of the bar stools.

  What was he doing here? No. No. No! He couldn’t invade her business. Fright, powerful and swift, forced the happiness of a few moments ago into the recess of her everything. What could he want with her? Even if she said he should ask her himself, she never imagined that he would. Especially here. Now.

  “If we served latte—which we don’t—I just told you we’re closed,” Mitch said with force.

  She watched as his hand moved under the counter to a bat they kept there for emergencies. She, on the other hand, could only watch. Words... Movement... Both had temporarily left her paralyzed.

  “Mitch, I don’t think Mr. King is here for coffee.”

  The man on her side of the counter jerked his head her direction, surprise on his face. The man responsible for her current problems tipped his head toward the door where two men stood, hands inside their jackets, staying their actions. She could only assume their fingers were ready to pull guns and shoot.

  “How’s your head?” Rey asked Mitch.

  Mitch’s eyes narrowed, his eyebrows drew into a straight line as his fingers wrapped around the grip of the bat. She crossed over to him and patted his hand, moving the bat into her possession and giving him an assuring smile. Or at least she hoped she did no matter how stiff it felt.

  “It’s okay. Can you make sure the rest of the doors are locked?”

  “Yeah, Mitch, go away like a good boy. Brandie and I have some catching up to do.”

  After a threatening glare directed toward first Rey and then his men, Mitch left. It surprised her that he left so quickly. But she had asked him to secure the other doors. Rey might have brought more than just two thugs with weapons, and Mitch seemed like the sort of man who would think that direction.

  “Why are you here?”

  “What? An old friend can’t come for a visit?” He nodded toward the door, and one of the men left. The other turned the lock and watched the lot out front.

  “You aren’t my friend. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.” She said the words as bravely as she could, but didn’t feel very courageous. She couldn’t predict anything about this man and had no way to stop him.

  “Don’t push my patience, girl.” He grabbed the front of her apron across her breasts and tugged. “You sent an invitation and I accepted.”

  The apron loop behind her head kept her from getting free. Her face inched closer to him across the counter. The bat bounced to the floor at her feet. Now painfully on her tiptoes, Rey kept pulling until she could smell the wretched onions he’d had with his dinner.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she eked out, trying to be brave and not turn away.

  “Weren’t my instructions clear to get your boy out of here so my men could reclaim what’s rightfully mine?”

  He smashed his lips against hers. She jerked back as much as allowed, far enough to get the word stop out before he jerked her lips to his again. His hard, punishing mouth took everything
wonderful about kissing and turned it into a horrible experience.

  “Enough. Let her go.”

  Mitch shoved Rey’s shoulder with a thick pipe, and Brandie slid back to her feet. Rey stood and held his hand in the air, signaling for the man behind him to stop.

  “No need for violence, friends. Stand down. I will come back another time when you aren’t entertaining.” Rey winked at her and straightened his expensive suit.

  “That’s not about to happen while I’m here,” Mitch said. “I imagine you sent the guy who hit me on the head this morning. Tell him I’d like to know where he got his shoes.”

  Rey perked up. He tried to look casual about it, but Mitch made him nervous. It was evident in the way he buttoned his jacket and gave directions to his guards in Spanish.

  “Sweet Brandie...au revoir until next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time, buddy. Or your face will be on a wanted poster. Got it?”

  Rey didn’t acknowledge Mitch. Just turned his back and left. Mitch followed to the door and secured it.

  “What the hell did that guy want? Is he trying to shake you down?”

  “No. I need to warn my parents. Rey isn’t the type to walk out of here and do nothing.” She picked up her cell. Her hands were shaking so much she could barely tap just one number. She should just go, but she couldn’t think. What did she need? “My keys. Is the door locked? Yes, I saw you lock it behind him.”

  “Brandie.” Mitch caught her between his arms and pulled her to his chest. “Catch your breath, then we go. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

  “Mom’s not answering. You don’t think he’d really kidnap or hurt them, do you?” She saw the answer in his eyes. “You do.” She shoved at his sturdy chest. “I’m leaving. Right now.”

  “And I’m going with you. No discussion.” He dangled her keys in front of her face. “Who is that guy, and don’t give me any bunk about not knowing him. You’re scared of him.”

  “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  “You’re not waiting on me. Cars are out back.”

  He pointed to the rear garage entrance. Mitch stopped her before she turned the knob. He tossed her the keys and pulled a gun from the top file drawer.

  “Has that been on the premises all this time?” She couldn’t imagine Mitch owning a gun or that he’d been playing with Toby in this very room.

  “Shh. Let’s get to the car. Then we’ll talk.” He held the gun and searched through the windows like a professional.

  Professional what?

  Something had changed, and suddenly she could definitely picture him with a gun. There was Mitch the silent mechanic and Mitch the fun guy twirling her around the café. Then the almost shy Mitch who’d asked her on a date. Then there was this version. He pivoted around corners like the cops on television. At any point she thought he’d start giving her hand signals to stop and advance.

  It wasn’t funny. Nor was it supposed to be. She was confused by meeting all of this man’s personalities on the same day. She watched his eyes looking everywhere. How he tensed at the sound of a car passing on the street.

  “We go through the door. You lock it and I’ve got your back. Is your car locked?” She answered with a shake of her head. “Great. Just great. You’re too dang trusting, Brandie. We’ll take my car. They might not have known which one if they were going to rig something to blow or break down. You’re driving. The keys are in my front right pocket.”

  Back to her, he blocked her from any potential threat, holding the gun down, but ready to shoot. He turned his hip for her to have access to his keys. She couldn’t dig in the man’s pockets.

  Forget what she’d normally think or normally do. They might already have Toby. Brandie followed his instructions.

  In other circumstances, fishing in his pockets would be an intimate gesture. He remained silent, cocking his head to the side when a car slowed and its occupants looked closely at the gas pumps.

  “We move to the car, you keep the alley on one side and me between you and the street. Got it?”

  “Sure.” Her insides started jumping. Whoever this man really was, he was there to protect her. The frightening thing was that she needed protecting at all. She lived in a sleepy little town that probably wouldn’t be there if not for the phenomenon of lights in the sky.

  Hands shaking, she unlocked his old four-door sedan and got behind the wheel. As soon as he was in the car, she spun gravel as she left the garage lot, totally not expecting the powerful engine.

  “Take it easy there. We don’t need the locals pulling us over,” he directed, placing the pistol in his lap. “Start talking, please.”

  “Are you an undercover cop?” That had to be the only explanation.

  “No.”

  “Is Mitch Striker your real name?”

  “Almost. We don’t have much time, Brandie. I need to know everything.”

  “No. I appreciate the help. But if you aren’t a cop you may be working for Rey to see if I’m going to spill my guts the first time he walks through the door.”

  “First time for him? But there have been others. Like the guy with the fancy shoes this morning.”

  “Nope. I’m not talking.” She shook her head and turned off the main road. “I think someone’s following us.” Brandie had seen the lights in the rearview mirror. On the highway through town she might not have paid attention, but this car hung back just far enough to make her wonder.

  “Yeah, it’s waiting to see which way you turn—right to your parents’ or left to your house. We should get to your dad’s place.”

  They turned the last corner, and the car following stopped half a block behind them.

  “Pull over. Now.”

  She jerked the wheel right and slammed on the brakes. “Why did you want me to stop? What if— Just the possibility of something happening to Toby is making me sick.”

  “I know what I’m doing, Brandie, but I’ll need your help.”

  Mitch slid the car into Park and switched off the ignition. Something in the calm directness of his voice made her listen when all she wanted to do was throw open the car door and run to the house to see if her family was okay.

  She nodded and dropped her head to the wheel. “Why aren’t they answering the phone? Are his men already inside?”

  “I need you to do two things. First, you call 9-1-1. Ask them to dispatch Pete and tell him some of the men he’s looking for are at your parents’. That’s it. Hang up after.” He reached into the backseat and raised a blanket, pulling a backpack from the floorboard.

  “You are a cop. Where are you going? You’re leaving me here? What if they already have Toby?” Each word dried her throat a little more, making it difficult to sound confident. Her insides knotted, her hands shook with fright and anger. Holding on to the steering wheel was the only thing keeping her inside the car. She removed her foot from the brake, finally realizing the car wouldn’t go anywhere.

  “I’m giving my word. If something’s happened to Toby, I guarantee that I’ll find the bastards and make them pay. If he’s gone, I’ll find him and bring him home.” He covered her hand with his left and pulled a second gun from the glove box with his right.

  Until she knew her son was safe, her heart would be controlling her actions. She searched his eyes. He meant every word and then some. She didn’t care who he worked for as long as he’d defend Toby.

  “What’s the second thing?” she whispered, afraid with every second that she’d break down, melting into a puddle of hysteria.

  “Whatever’s happened, I need you to keep quiet about this Rey guy.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Rey King is the only person who’s threatened me. If something bad has happened, he’s the prime suspect. The sheriff will need to know.”

  What would she tell them? That a respected man from Alpine had been sending men for unknown reasons to her café, searching for something she wasn’t aware existed? She could just hear th
e conversation with Pete where every answer she provided was a resounding I don’t know.

  “I need this guy to think his threats have worked. Trust me.”

  “Just admit that you’re a cop.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll explain everything later. Right now—” the engine varoomed to life as he turned the key “—we need to find out who’s following and why.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Act natural and trust me.”

  It had been a long time since she’d done either. The last time she’d trusted someone hadn’t worked out. At all. In spite of her instincts screaming at her to do otherwise, maybe her heart wanted to believe that this man was different.

  “I’ll trust you, Mitch.” Until you give a reason not to. “But if Toby’s injured or gone, I’ll keep Rey’s name out of it for my own purposes. I know how to use a gun, too.”

  Chapter Four

  I know how to use a gun, too. Mitch knew that calm, kill ’em with kindness Brandie Ryland didn’t make that threat lightly. She meant every unspoken word and would kill Rey King—whoever he was—if anything happened to Toby.

  Nothing was going to happen to the kid. Mitch wouldn’t let it. As he thought the words, he knew how futile they were. Many times fate stepped in no matter how many precautions you took to prevent it.

  He watched her reverse his car in next to her dad’s truck. Good idea, they could leave faster if things went sideways. The car that had followed them idled at the corner. If Brandie looked at it, no one could see her eyes from this distance. Surprise had to be on his side. He needed to make this quick.

  Mitch had several sets of zip cuffs in his back pocket, two extra clips for the weapon in his palm and enough adrenaline for a battle. These guys didn’t act like they’d seen him get out of the car. He’d left under the cover of darkness, having disconnected the dome light as soon as the vehicle had been issued to him.

  Run! He did. Leaving his spot on the opposite side of the road from Brandie, he was able to catch these guys while they watched her walk into her dad’s home. If someone was inside, he’d deal with them next.