Special Ops Bodyguard

by Beth Cornelison

  She recalled his reaction to the backfiring truck the week before. He’d been thoroughly shaken, revisiting some trauma, the memories making him tremble and sweat.

  What kind of nightmare had he lived through?

  “Tell me about it, Gage. Please.”

  His eyes snapped up to meet hers again. Taking a deep breath as if rousing himself from deep thoughts, he slipped his hand out from under hers. “It’s hardly appropriate dinner conversation.”

  Disappointment and a stab of rejection wrenched inside her. “You know my greatest hopes, my deepest pain, my biggest fears and troubles. You can even sit there and dish out your opinion on how I should handle my life, but your life is taboo? A bit hypocritical, don’t you think, Gage?”

  “Kate…”

  “Why can’t you trust me with what’s bothering you?”

  He jabbed a bite of meat in his mouth and chewed for a moment. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t want to burden you with the nightmares I live with. Your life, with the exception of Janet’s problems with Larry, is about sweetness and joy and the simple pleasures. I love that about you. You’re a breath of fresh air to me, and I won’t let the sewage of my past ruin that.”

  Kate shuffled her French fries around on her plate, her heart heavy. “If you can’t open up to me, can’t talk to me about what happened, how are we supposed to build a relationship?”

  “We aren’t. That’s what I’m saying. I can’t start something with you that I know will hurt you down the road.”

  She frowned at him. “I’m a big girl, Gage. Why don’t you let me be the judge of what I can and can’t handle emotionally?”

  “Maybe I’m the one who can’t handle what a relationship would mean. Maybe I’m still too raw to feel anything real and meaningful.”

  Sympathy battered her heart. She heard such grief in his voice. “Then let my love heal you. We can work through whatever happened to you together, if you’d let me help.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “You said you were falling in love with me. How—”

  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  An ache sliced through her. Why was he shutting her out? She had to find a way past his defenses. Beneath his pain, Gage was a good man, a loving man, a gentle man. The kind of man she wanted to plan a future with.

  “I’m falling in love with you, too, Gage.”

  He set his fork down, leveled a piercing gaze on her and whispered, “Don’t.”

  She frowned. “Don’t what? Care about you? Help you? Be there for you?”

  “All of the above,” he said flatly, his expression dark and troubled.

  She laughed without humor and waved a hand around the table. “If you don’t want a relationship with me, what is all this about? Why did you ask me out?”

  His shoulders stiffened. “Because… I needed to talk to you where we wouldn’t be distracted.”

  He looked as if he was going to say more, but when he clamped his mouth shut and glanced away, she finished for him. “About Janet.”

  “Yeah.”

  Pain slashed through her chest. The hope that she’d harbored earlier in the evening that she was on the verge of a meaningful and treasured relationship with Gage burst in to a thousand prickling shards.

  She tossed her napkin on the table and took her purse from the back of her chair. “And we have talked about your views on Janet’s situation, so I guess dinner is over.”

  He scowled at her. “Kate, no…you haven’t even eaten.”

  “Suddenly I’m not hungry.”

  He set his fork down, and his expression paled. “Kate, I’m sorry. I never wanted to mislead you, but—”

  “But you did. Those kisses we shared weren’t chaste tokens of friendship.” Her exasperation and hurt bubbled up, filling her voice with the tremble of emotion. “I felt something special happening between us. When you held me the other day, I felt something deep and powerful. An electricity and passion and intimate connection that goes beyond casual friendship. I know you felt it, too. After the way you kissed me, what was I supposed to think when you asked me out?”

  “Exactly what you did think. I felt the connection, too. I can’t stop thinking about you, Kate, even when I’m supposed to be working. I’ve never met a woman who has meant more to me than you do.”

  “Then why are you afraid to take a chance on us?”

  “It’s not fear, Kate. I’m trying to protect you.” He paused, swallowing hard, and the haunted expression he wore shook her to the core. “If I don’t walk away from you now, eventually the demons of my past would destroy everything I love about you. And I’d never forgive myself if I let that happen.”

  Chapter 12

  The drive back to Maple Cove was somber and quiet. Gage tuned Rusty’s radio, which only picked up AM stations, to a call-in show where the host was leading a discussion on voters’ disenchantment with their elected leaders. Senator Henry Kelley’s recent fall from grace was covered in depth, including speculation about his retreat from the public eye.

  Gage cast a worried glance across the front seat to Kate, wanting desperately to do or say something to mitigate the misery he’d caused. She stared out at the night-shrouded scenery, her face lined with dejection and disappointment.

  When he pulled up in front of her house, she sent him a tight, emotionless smile. “Thank you for dinner. Good luck with—”

  When he reached for her, sliding his hand along her jaw to cup her cheek, she caught her breath and closed her eyes.

  “Forgive me, Kate. I know I’ve hurt you, but…it’s better this way. I’m all wrong for you. You deserve a life I don’t know how to give you.”

  She pulled her chin from his grip and opened the truck door. “At least be honest about what this is. You know what I want from you, but you’re too scared to try. I just wish I understood the real reason why.”

  Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid off the seat and closed the door behind her. He watched until she disappeared inside the yellow warmth of her house, then drove back to the ranch with a knot in his gut.

  Too scared to try. Every time her voice echoed in his mind, he mentally flinched away from it. Could it be there was some painful truth to her assessment?

  He parked Rusty’s truck by the bunkhouse and, when he stepped out of the cab, the vast Montana sky and lonely moon called to him. Before retiring for the night, Gage wandered down past the holding pens and climbed up into the hayloft of the barn. From there, he meandered over to the loft door, sat down in the opening and propped himself against the wooden door frame to look out at the star-filled night and think. He’d hurt Kate with his decree, he knew, but he still believed it was better that he break things off now, before they grew any closer, than risk hurting her even worse in the long run.

  Let my love heal you. We can work through whatever happened to you together, if you let me help.

  But he didn’t want to be another drain on Kate’s life. She already had too much stress and strife with her sister. He didn’t want to burden her with his troubled past. His past was something he had to work through on his own. Her optimism and willingness to tie herself to him, despite his baggage, burrowed deep to his soul. He’d never had anyone as generous and caring in his life before, and Kate’s love was a treasured gift he’d cherish.

  He let the sounds of the night—the nickering of horses, the chirp of crickets and the gentle stir of breeze—flow through him, but he doubted anything would ease the ache in his heart that losing Kate caused. He closed his eyes to picture her sweet smile, knowing he’d made the best decision he could—for her.

  As the autumn chill seeped into him, a noise he identified first as a cow in distress filtered through the night’s calm. He opened his eyes and strained to peer through the darkness into the night. Had a wild animal attacked the herd?

  When the noise came again, he recognized it as a human voice, a man’s voice. A cry for help.

  Alarm streaked through Gage, and he
jumped to his feet, using the elevation of the barn loft to his advantage to scan the ranch yard and pastures. The night beyond the lights of the barn and stable shrouded the fields in inky blackness, but the voice came again, low and pained. “Help me!”

  Gage hurried down from the barn loft and ran into the ranch yard, drawing his weapon as he scanned the property. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me. Rusty…”

  At the edge of the circle of light from the barn, Gage saw a dark shadow that transformed into a horse and rider. The man atop the horse was slumped in the saddle, riding draped along the horse’s neck with one leg dangling awkwardly at his side.

  “Please, I need…a doctor. Hurt…” Rusty gasped, his voice thick with pain.

  “Rusty, what happened?” Gage rushed forward, reholstering his gun to free his hands. He grabbed Red’s reins, stopping the animal.

  The ranch manager raised his head only far enough to meet Gage’s eyes. The man’s face was battered and swollen. Blood had dried at his nose and lip. “Think my…leg is broken.”

  Gage’s pulse spiked as he saw the odd angle of Rusty’s leg and his obvious facial injuries. “Good God, what happened to you?”

  Rusty shook his head. “Just…help me get…to my house.”

  Gage snatched out his cell phone and dialed Cole’s number. “Call an ambulance, then meet me down near the barn. It’s Rusty Moore. He’s hurt pretty bad.” Without waiting for a reply, he disconnected and stowed his phone. Then reaching up to brace Rusty under his arms, he caught the older man as he slid off his horse.

  Rusty screamed in pain as the movement jostled his broken leg, and the anguish in the man’s cry ricocheted through Gage’s memory.

  Soldiers with twisted limbs or bullet holes in their gut crying out for rescue from a battlefield. Gage’s breath hung in his lungs, and he fought down the surge of bile in his throat.

  Focus. Do your job.

  He absorbed Rusty’s weight, careful not to bump the man’s injured leg, and eased him to the ground. The angle of Rusty’s leg told Gage the break was bad. Really bad. At his thigh. And clearly excruciating.

  Gage’s stomach churned.

  He dredged his memory for the battlefield first aid he’d been taught. Triage.

  Gage gently probed Rusty’s ribs and arms, searching out other injuries. Though the leg and facial injuries seemed to be the worst of his wounds, his whole body had been battered and bruised. The man needed attention soon. By the look of it, pain was already sending Rusty into shock. Gage yanked off his jacket and laid it over Rusty’s chest to ward of the evening chill.

  When he tried to examine the injured leg, Rusty groaned in agony, his head rocking side to side.

  The sound of running steps preceded Cole’s arrival. “Rusty!” Cole skidded to a stop, dropping to his knees beside his ranch manager. “Hang on, partner. An ambulance is on its way.” He glanced up at Gage. “What can I do?”

  “I don’t know that there is much we can do until the ambulance gets here. His femur is broken, and that’s gotta hurt like hell. I think he’s shocky.”

  Cole nodded. “What the hell happened?”

  Gage shrugged. “Don’t know. He just came riding up, slumped over and calling for help.”

  Cole leaned over Rusty. “Hold on, friend. Help’s coming.” He drew a deep shuddering breath and blew it out. “What happened to you? How did you get hurt?”

  Rusty closed his eyes and moaned. “Red…got spooked. Threw me. My foot…caught in the…stirrup.” He paused. Swallowed hard, grimacing, clearly in horrible pain. “Red…dragged me.”

  Dragged? Gage winced internally. That had to hurt. Your whole body being bumped and battered across the rocks and dirt…

  Gage bit the inside of his cheek, mulling over Rusty’s story. The ranch manager was an experienced horseman. Even if Red had spooked, Rusty shouldn’t have been thrown. Twenty minutes later, after the ambulance had pulled out of the ranch drive, carrying Rusty to the hospital in Honey Creek, Gage pulled Cole aside.

  “Does it seem odd to you that a rider of Rusty’s skill would be thrown from his horse, would allow his foot to become tangled in the stirrup so that he’s dragged?”

  Cole frowned. “Are you calling Rusty a liar?”

  Gage shrugged, not taking the edge of hostility in Cole’s voice personally. He was, after all, challenging the honesty of one of Cole’s valued ranch employees, and, as Hank’s bodyguard, his presence at the ranch had to feel like an inconvenience to Cole. “Just seems odd to me. It doesn’t quite add up.”

  Glancing away with a heavy sigh, Cole shook his head. “Rusty has worked for me for years. I trust him implicitly. I can’t imagine him lying without good reason.”

  “And what qualifies as a good reason to lie to your boss?” Gage pushed.

  Cole sent him a sharp look, then dragged a hand over his mouth. “All the more reason to believe him. Rusty doesn’t lie.”

  “In light of the attack on your father’s car and the breaches of the ranch security while you were gone, I think you should be especially vigilant in the coming weeks. All indications are that your dad’s enemies know he’s staying here, and they could try to get at him through you, through your ranch.”

  Cole held his gaze for several long seconds, his expression grave as he considered Gage’s warning. “What exactly is going on with my dad? This can’t all be related to the affairs he had. Something bigger is at work, isn’t it?”

  Gage gave the rancher an apologetic look. “I’m not at liberty to say. You’ll have to talk to him yourself.”

  Cole gave a terse nod. Sighed. “Well…thanks. For your help tonight with Rusty. And…for everything you’re doing for my father.”

  Gage heard the unspoken affection for his father behind Cole’s thanks. For the family’s sake, he hoped Hank could bridge the distance with his children. If any good could come out of the ugly predicament Hank had gotten himself in with the nefarious secret society, perhaps it would be a renewed relationship with his son.

  Gage woke the next morning to the sound of raised voices. A frisson of alarm streaked through him as he threw on his jeans. Following the sound of the voices, he hurried down the hall, concerned that some new attack had been made on the ranch or that Bart might need backup protecting Hank.

  When he entered the kitchen, he found Cole and Hank squared off, shouting at each other. Bart hung back, cradling a mug of coffee, letting the father and son vent.

  “I can’t believe you let me leave last week without saying anything!” Cole shouted, his cheeks red with fury.

  “I tried to tell you, but you stormed out and—”

  “She’s my sister! I deserved to know!”

  Apparently Hank had finally come clean with Cole about Lana’s kidnapping. Gage shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the open hostility.

  “Maybe I was trying to spare you the worry, considering everything else that’s going on with roundup—”

  Cole scoffed hotly. “Don’t give me that! You don’t think about anyone but yourself. You didn’t say anything because somehow you thought not telling me was in your best interest.”

  Gage stepped backward, trying to ease out of the kitchen unnoticed. The family argument wasn’t his business, and he had thirty minutes to shower and dress before his shift officially began.

  “Prescott—” Cole’s address stopped him mid-escape. “Did you know about this, too?”

  Gage gave Cole a level look. “I did.”

  “Yet you said nothing. Even last night when Rusty was hurt.”

  Gage raised his chin. “How is Rusty?”

  Cole shook his head. “Holding his own at the hospital in Honey Creek.” He shifted his glare to Hank. “And what’s been done to find Lana? To rescue her?”

  “I’ve handled it,” Senator Kelley said, tugging on the sleeves of his bathrobe as if he were straightening a tailored suit for a high-powered meeting.

  Cole narrowed a skeptical glare on his father. “Ho
w?”

  As Hank launched into an explanation of the mercenary he’d sent after Lana and Cole argued to bring in the FBI, Gage slipped back to his room for a hot shower and a bottle of aspirin for the raging headache already throbbing at his temples.

  He hadn’t slept well. Thoughts of Kate and their disastrous evening had taunted him all night, along with visions of Rusty’s maimed leg and cries of anguish. When he had dosed off, his sleep had been peppered with dreams of roadside bombs and dead soldiers pointing accusing fingers at him. His bleak mood this morning only confirmed that he’d made the right choice telling Kate goodbye last night. He couldn’t in good conscience subject her to the dark torment he dealt with on a daily basis.

  He would desperately miss the light and hope she had given him, even if only for these last few days.

  When his shift started, he made his way back to the kitchen where Hank still nursed a cup of coffee as he sat staring bleakly out the window watching the activity at the stock-yard, and presumably, Cole’s part in the ranch work.

  “Don’t start,” Hank groused without looking away from the window.

  “Sir?” Gage pulled up a chair and joined Hank at the table.

  “With the I-told-you-sos. I should have told Cole about Lana sooner. I should have called in the FBI. I should have reported the Raven’s Head Society to the authorities.” He sighed wearily and cut a desolate look to Gage. “I’m doing the best I can. I’m trying to deal with a bad situation without making it worse.”

  Gage rubbed his freshly shaven jaw and met Hank’s gaze. “Perhaps it’s time to change strategies.”

  The senator stared at him dispiritedly before returning his attention to the activity out the window. Gage took the opportunity to pour himself a cup of coffee and rip a banana from the bunch on the counter. As he settled at the table again, the senator’s new secure cell phone chirped.

  Hank pulled out the phone and checked the screen. Scowled. Then blanched.