The Hitman's Mistake

by Sally Brandle

  Miranda shoved her fingers into her pocket, grabbed a handful of the powdered fertilizer, and threw it into Karpenito’s eyes.

  “Bitch!” Karpenito shook his head.

  Grant swung the potato fork, sending the revolver flying under the kitchen table. In the next instant, he punched Karpenito in the jaw, knocking him to the ground.

  Karpenito shoved his shoulder into Grant’s leg cast, throwing him off balance, then grabbed the pitchfork and backed Grant to the door.

  Miranda dove under the table and retrieved the gun. “Drop it. Don’t think I won’t shoot a spineless coward.” She crossed the room and pushed the muzzle into the base of Karpenito’s skull.

  “You’re too chicken,” Karpenito turned.

  “Not anymore.” She racked the slide to load a bullet into the chamber. “You’re threatening my wounded hero, asshole.”

  The cop dropped the fork.

  Grant grabbed Karpenito’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. He pulled cuffs off the cop’s belt and secured them.

  Miranda dialed her phone using steady fingers. “The police can haul this snake out of my apartment.”

  By the time the Seattle Police and Bo arrived to question them, Miranda’s pulse had returned to normal. They gave statements and shut the door on Karpenito for a final time.

  “You’re amazing, Ms. Whitley,” Grant smiled.

  “Half of the best cowgirl and former-agent team.”

  “I think the Annie Oakley Commemorative rifle in my collection needs to accompany you in Montana to scare vermin. If you’d like?” Grant asked.

  “I’ll do my best to make Annie proud,” Miranda grinned. “The gun range practice came in handy, but hopefully I’ll never fire a shot.”

  “Our life will never be boring,” Grant teased.

  “I certainly hope—”

  The apartment door burst open and slammed against the wall.

  Corrin flew in. “There’s a mule . . . you must be Grant.” She dropped her shoulder bag on the floor. “High time you showed.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Grant said.

  “My pleasure, Agent Morley. I dodged police cars on my way in.”

  “Karpenito’s handcuffed in one of those squad cars, thanks to Miranda’s gun-toting skills.”

  Corrin fist bumped Miranda. “Good going, roomie.”

  “The last snake’s been snared.” Miranda grabbed Corrin’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’re all safe now, sister-of-my-soul.”

  “And that’s a genuine smile for a change.” Corrin patted Miranda’s shoulder and then glanced at Grant. “I’ll leave you lovebirds alone. I’m truly happy for both of you.” She stepped into her bedroom and pulled the door shut behind her.

  Grant took Miranda’s hand. “I made another reservation at Blaine’s, but I can’t wait any longer.” He lowered himself to the floor, balancing on one knee.

  Eagerness thrummed in her heart. She’d dreamed of this moment.

  “Miranda, I love you with all my heart.” His eyes confirmed the words. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  She put her hand to his cheek, smiling. “Yes. Come here for an uninterrupted seal of approval.” She grasped his upper arm and pulled him up. While she kissed him, elation flowed in her veins. “Together from now on, for the rest of our lives.”

  His lips brushed hers. “Forever.” He pulled out a tiny box and slid the solitaire onto her ring finger. “My grandmother’s.”

  She held her hand to the light. “The diamond reflects the sparkling I feel inside.”

  “Matching my kaleidoscope.” Grant took both of her hands in his. “I have a suggestion, or confession, maybe two.”

  Her body stilled. “You can tell me anything, Grant.”

  “You’re old-fashioned. One of the many qualities I adore. This morning I contacted Judge Gilson, I mean Ike, to ask his permission to marry you. I hope it’s okay?”

  Flutters of joy filled her chest. She covered his hand with hers. “It’s sweetly romantic. Tell me Ike’s response.”

  “He approved, and said he’d be honored to escort you down the aisle, if you ask.”

  “I can’t think of anyone more fitting,” she said.

  He centered the diamond on her finger. “There’s one more, ah, shall we say, matter of consideration.”

  “You have my full attention.”

  “I want to marry you and start our life together. I’d bet my parents, and Ike and Shirley would want to make it a celebration. If it’s what you want.”

  “Mom and I envisioned my church wedding and reception.” She pressed her palm to his heart. “I have the handsome hero part locked in, and Corrin could help make plans.”

  “I’ll do my best to earn the hero status.” He cleared his throat. “In the meantime, Dad and Mom redecorated my guest bedroom if you want to start your life in Emma Springs before we get married. We’d have time to get to know one another outside of a pressure cooker.” He loosened his tie. “Or you can stay at their house.”

  No more separation. Miranda turned over his hand and stroked his palm. “I like the guest room idea. At my hero’s home. My classes can be completed online, so nothing’s holding me in Seattle.”

  “Nothing’s better than traveling back to Montana beside you and Red under temporary guest room conditions in our home.” Grant’s color deepened.

  Petals of pink, magenta, and fuscia colored her world.

  Chapter 21

  She’d traveled home with Grant and spent her first night of undisturbed sleep in the guest room of her dream house in Emma Springs.

  On the car trip to Montana, she’d learned from Grant that her family’s killers were incarcerated. She could quit wondering who else they’d harm.

  If a rose bush represented her life, a flowering stem would be grafted alongside a rugged, sturdy branch.

  The old globe on the stand in the corner had resided by Dad’s desks in each of his classrooms. Now it sat by her desk in the guest bedroom. She slipped out of bed and laid her fingertip on Montana—her perfect place. Mom’s pruning shears sat on the dresser, and Kenny’s ball cap hung from the hand-carved finial on the antique vanity mirror.

  Her clean clothes had been piled inside the bedroom door. Grant must’ve done laundry last night after they’d arrived from Seattle.

  A flat package tied by a pink ribbon lay on top of her blouse. She untied it and pulled off the paper to find a book, Irish Love Sonnets.

  Inside the cover was an inscription: To the sweetest daughter I could ever have. I hope you’ll call me ‘Moms,’ what I called my dear mother-in-law.

  Miranda touched her heart. Pat would be her ‘Moms’ and a wonderful grandma someday.

  Miranda placed the book next to the Scales of Justice statue Ike had given her from his office. Purple African violets bloomed from tiny pots balancing on each side.

  Whiffs of coffee and fried potatoes enticed her to the stairs.

  Grant stood at the bottom. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.” He pointed to a steaming mug. “The coffee I owe you from Seattle will be paid back every day.”

  “No paybacks match the adoration I see in your eyes. Dad called Mom a precious treasure, exactly how I feel.” She pulled him close and kissed him, letting her body fill with a strong sense of belonging. Belonging together and belonging to a loving family again.

  “You put my thoughts into perfect words.” Grant stroked her cheek. “Brasso and Red are fed and saddled. Your mule told me he’s ridden enough transports for the rest of his life. After breakfast we can trot over to tell my folks in person.”

  Her children would follow that path to their grandparents’ home someday. She sipped the coffee, pure joy welling in her chest. “I’m in.”

 
; “As a kid, I dreamed of galloping home on a horse to deliver good news. In fact, I made Mom a pair of hitching posts in high school shop class which have been waiting for the right announcement.”

  “I noticed those horse heads and wondered. I can’t wait to tell them.” She grabbed a bite of crispy potato and sipped her coffee. “I’m impressed you researched my blend of Kona and ground cocoa nibs.”

  “I had to get your special brew right. Did you find the book?”

  “Yes, it’s lovely, same as your mom,” she said. “Let’s go announce a wedding to my new family.”

  He beamed at her and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing each one. “Do you mind the four of us celebrating our engagement? Dad bought champagne before I left. He may be gruff sometimes, but he adores you. He suggested I shuttle Red to Seattle.”

  “Smart man,” she teased. “Champagne bubbles can’t match the bursts of joy releasing in my heart.”

  “I want to marry you yesterday.” He held out her puffy parka and handed her a pair of fleece-lined gloves. “No more cold or alone.”

  “I know.” She squeezed his hand while they strolled away from their home.

  Familiar calming scents wafted out from the barn.

  Big Red mule-nickered. He nuzzled her cheek while she straightened his bridle. She ran her fingers over the gap in his mane and deep scar. Another past injury. Another survivor moving forward. “Shirley offered her antique wedding dress. I’d love to ride on Red side-saddle to the church.”

  “Totally Montana. Whatever you wear, you’ll be a beautiful bride with her groom waiting at the alter for his forever love,” Grant whispered in her ear.

  “My hero.”

  Snow-capped Mt. Hanlen rose from a landscape dotted by pines. Her new family waited across the pasture.

  She had her man and her mule, and the mountain of troubles freezing her heart had melted into a pool of hope.

  Grant turned and smiled. His light reflected out to her, as deep and welcoming as a fall sun, illuminating cherished memories and brightening the path to their future.

  Love thrived in Emma Springs.

  If you’d like to receive the epilogue to The Hitman’s Mistake introducing Grant and Miranda’s baby, Annie Rose, visit Sallybrandle.com and sign up for my email list. If you enjoyed my book, I’d love it if you’d visit Amazon and write an honest review.

  Warm regards,

  Sally

  Virtue and Vengeance

  Corrin Patten is solidly on the path to partner in a prestigious Seattle law firm when an ominous threat from her past turns deadly.

  Dr. Kyle Werner revels in the trust of his town’s patients. But the small Montana community lacks one thing—a woman to share his life.

  Can they defeat the wealthy stalker bent on mistaken revenge against Corrin?

  If you like tenacious heroines, sizzling attraction, and a shadowy villain seeking revenge, you’ll love Sally Brandle’s Virtue and Vengeance.

  About the Author

  Multiple award-winning author Sally Brandle writes clean, contemporary, romantic suspense stories. She left a career as an industrial baking instructor so that she could bring to life her stories of courageous women supporting one another while they discover men who deserve their love. A member of Romance Writers of America, Greater Seattle RWA, Eastside RWA, and She Writes, Sally’s current series, Love Thrives in Emma Springs, is set in rural Montana.

  Connect with Sally at www.sallybrandle.com