Читать книгу Special Ops Bodyguard - Beth Cornelison - Страница 9

Kate blinked. She’d been lost in her own thoughts, and Gage’s request felt like a non sequitur. “I’m sorry?”

“Your sister’s husband. What’s his story?”

Kate’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. Larry.” She puffed her bangs off her forehead as she circled the end of the counter and started putting away silverware. “Well, clearly the guy acts like a jerk sometimes.”

His steady gaze held hers, showing no reaction to her comment. He showed little if any emotion at all, in fact. For not the first time, meeting his stoic expression brought to mind the craggy rock cliffs of the surrounding mountains. Hard. Cold. Unmoving.

“Go on,” he prodded.

Kate twitched a nervous grin, embarrassed to have been caught staring. And what about him staring at you?

“He’s not always like that, mind you.” Kate sighed and jammed a handful of drinking straws in the dispenser. “By tomorrow he’ll be apologizing all over the place and making her promises …” She let her voice trail off, wondering why she was telling this stranger her sister’s private business. With a quick, embarrassed grin, she shrugged the topic away.

“And he convinces her to stay.”

She cut a startled glance to his and nodded.

“Sounds like typical battered wife syndrome to me.”

Battered wife syndrome. A chill raced down Kate’s spine. Though she knew the truth about Janet’s marriage, hearing the harsh but honest term applied to her sister was unsettling.

“Has she called the police on him?” Gage asked.

Kate hesitated. Did she want to get into this with a man she just met? “Uh, yeah. She has. So have I. For all the good it does.” She gnawed her bottom lip and sighed. “Larry went to school with the guys on the force. They’re his buddies. They don’t do anything about him.”

Gage’s dark eyebrows drew together, and his light blue eyes turned stormy. His muttered curse rumbled like approaching thunder. Kate’s hands stilled on the countertop, and she tipped her head, studying him. “Why do you ask?”

His chin jerked up a notch. “Someone should do something about him. He can’t be allowed to hurt her, or you, and get away with it.”

“I’m trying to help her. I moved out here from Ohio about a year ago to be with her. She’s the only family I have, and I can’t let her—” She dropped her gaze to her hands when her voice cracked.

An awkward silence passed, filled only by the clatter of dishes from the kitchen where Pete was preparing for the next morning’s breakfast.

“Janet is lucky to have you.” The words were spoken so softly, she could almost believe she’d imagined them.

Lifting her head, she met a penetrating stare that seemed more caring now than icy. His pale blue irises were flecked with navy, which warmed his eyes and softened the hard edge he projected.

Or maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. Was she so desperate for a man that she’d conjured tenderness and warmth in a stranger who’d yet to crack a smile for her?

Sucking in a deep breath, she rallied herself. “I believe I promised you a piece of my apple pie.”

Glad for the distraction, Kate took the pie down from the pastry stand and cut Gage a thick slice. “My best friend in Ohio was the Amish girl who lived next door to us. I learned to bake from her mother. I spent hours with them every day. Spent more time at their farm than at my own house, in fact. Anyway, Emma’s mother taught me to cook and people around here seem to think my desserts are pretty good. But judge for yourself.”

She slid the pie in front of him and handed him a clean fork.

Gage cut a bite, shoveled it into his mouth and chewed slowly. Kate held her breath, as if his verdict had the power to end or salvage her baking career.

His eyebrows lifted, and he nodded, licking flakes of crust from his lips.

Kate’s gaze zeroed in on the quick sweep of his tongue, and a fuzzy warmth swam through her, settling low in her womb. Dear heavens, why did such a simple thing seem … erotic to her?

Another flood of heat stung her cheeks. She wasn’t used to a man having this sort of effect on her.

After he swallowed, Gage turned the fork in his fingers idly.

“Well?” She canted toward him, all too eager for his assessment.

His stony expression shifted, his lips twisting wryly, and a sultry heat lighting his eyes. “Only thing I’ve ever had any better was sex.”

“Oh. I—” The heat in her cheeks shot straight to the roots of her hair. Her hand fluttered to her mouth, and she covered a stunned laugh. “I, uh … thanks. I’ve never … had my baking compared to sex before.”

His cheek twitched, and she’d have sworn she heard a chuckle rumble from his chest.

“Well, I’m finished back here,” Pete called to her as he shuffled out of the kitchen. “You’ll lock up when you leave?”

Gage sent her a puzzled frown. “You’re closing?” He flipped his wrist to check the large watch on his wide wrist. “It’s only eight o’clock.”

“This is a ranching town, Mr. Prescott. Most ranchers and their families have eaten dinner and headed to bed by now. Mornings come early in a ranch town, which means we’re open at 4:00 a.m. to serve breakfast.”

He lowered his brow and pressed his mouth in a firm line as if digesting this information.

“Well, then I should let you finish your work.” He shoveled another couple of bites of pie in his mouth and gave her a nod as he rose from his stool.

“Don’t rush off on my account. You can finish your pie, at least, then … maybe walk me to my car?”

He reached in his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills. “I’d be glad to walk you to your car, but … I wouldn’t have thought a woman had to worry about being accosted in a small town like this.”

Kate took off her apron and stashed it behind the counter. The infernal heat of her blush prickled her scalp again, as she gave him a bashful grin. “Well, yes … the town is quite safe, usually.”

He tipped his head and arched an eyebrow. “Then … are you flirting with me, Miss Rogers?”

Her heart beat triple-time under his narrow-eyed scrutiny. “Well, if you have to ask, I’m obviously not doing it right.”

He slid his check and payment across the counter to her. His expression lightened, and a small dimple appeared in his cheek. “On the contrary, I like your style.”

Even that hint of a smile sent her pulse racing. And his dimple … dear Lord, that dimple softened the hard edge to him and made her weak in the knees.

Easy, girl. The man is only passing through town. Kate gathered her purse and pulled out her keys to lock up the diner, warning herself not to get any crazy ideas about Gage Prescott, security specialist. She might not know much about men, but she knew enough to be certain Gage was not the sort to settle down in a small town in the middle of Nowhere, Montana.

When Senator Kelley left town, so would his hunky bodyguard.

As Gage drove back through the front gate of the Bar Lazy K, he found his mind drifting to Kate’s sunny smile and her endearing tendency to blush at the slightest provocation. He gave his head a firm shake and redirected his thoughts to his client and the reasons he’d been hired.

He drove past the sprawling main house and pulled the truck up to the ranch hands’ bunkhouse. In light of Kate’s comment about ranchers heading to bed early, Gage found the amount of activity on the ranch intriguing. A large number of men still milled about outside the bunkhouse, including several men working near the stables. Gage knew almost nothing about ranching, but even to him this amount of activity after dark seemed unusual.

As he climbed out of the truck, the ranch manager, an older Native American man named Rusty Moore, approached him with a smile, three large dogs circling his legs, barking. “Easy, Ace. He’s a friend. Evening, Mr. Prescott. A successful trip?”

Gage tossed the keys back to Rusty. “Somewhat. Thanks again for the use of the truck.”

“I’d say anytime, but the truth is this truck and most of the other vehicles will be tied up for the next several days. We leave early in the morning.” Rusty reached down to give one of the dogs a good scratch behind the ear. “You’ll guard the place while we’re gone, won’t ya, Ace? Good boy.”

The dog’s slow steps and gray muzzle told Gage the mutt was up in years, while the two others had the energy of youth. A black dog with a white spot on its head greeted Gage with a wiggle of excitement, planting his front paws on Gage’s hip to nuzzle his hand.

“Domino! Get down!” Rusty fussed. “Sorry about that. Border collies are great for herding, but what they have in ranching skills, ours lack in manners.”

Gage ruffled Domino’s furry head. “I don’t mind. I like dogs.” He cast his gaze around the commotion and honed in on Rusty’s earlier comment. “Why is everyone leaving tomorrow?”

The ranch manager nodded. “The annual roundup. We’ll drive or ride into the hills and find all the cattle, load ‘em up and bring them back to be sorted and sent to market. It’s a big job so most everyone goes.”

Gage rubbed his chin, deciding how the absence of all the ranch hands might affect his ability to protect the senator. Having the hands around was tantamount to having a fleet of guards watching for unusual activity on the property. In their absence, Gage and Bart would have a vast amount of land and several outbuildings to keep secure. “The stable and barn are monitored with security cameras, right?”

Rusty nodded. “All of the buildings are.”

“But is anyone monitoring the camera feed or is the video only used to identify a trespasser when there’s a problem?”

Rusty scoffed a laughed. “Mr. Cole doesn’t have the manpower to have someone watching the camera feed around the clock. Problems are rare. Having this many hands around is security enough most days.”

“Most days. But as you said, everyone is heading out tomorrow.”

Rusty frowned. “Are you expecting a problem?”

Gage shrugged. “Hard to say. I wouldn’t be here if trouble wasn’t a possibility, and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t familiarize myself with all the security measures in place.”

Rusty slid his fingers into the front pockets of his dusty jeans. “Cole should be up at the house by now. He can brief you on how the security system works.”

Gage jerked a nod. “Thanks.” He turned to head toward the main house then paused as Domino scampered across the yard in front of him. He shouldn’t underestimate the value of the dogs as a warning system in the event of trespassers. “Mr. Moore?”

Rusty turned.

“What are the other dogs’ names?”

The manager smiled and pointed to the older black dog with the gray muzzle. “That there is Ace. He’s fifteen years young and the daddy of these other two. He sticks pretty close to home, seeing as how he’s blind now.” He pointed to the third dog, more white than the other two. “That’s Mitzy, and you already met Domino. The younger two will go with us on roundup, so they won’t be in your hair.”

“I was actually thinking the dogs would help alert us in case of a break-in.”

“Ordinarily they would, but we need ‘em to work this week, herding cattle. But ol’ Ace, even without his sight, he’s still a pretty good guard dog. His hearing and sense of smell are still top-notch. He’ll bark if he thinks there’s a stranger we need to be alerted to.”

Gage gave the old dog a considering scrutiny. “All right, Ace. You’re my go-to guy out here. Got it?”

Hearing his name, Ace wobbled closer, tail wagging, and Gage let him sniff his hand before stroking the dog’s head. Ace followed Gage as he crossed the dusty yard to the main house, a massive, multilevel home made of river rock and natural timber.

As he neared the main entrance, Cole’s housekeeper, who’d been introduced to him earlier as Hannah Brown, appeared in the door. “There you are! I’ve had your dinner ready for an hour. Where have you been, mister?”

Gage blinked, startled by her scolding tone. He opened his mouth to tell the brusque older woman he’d eaten at Ira’s Diner when he realized her gaze was on Ace rather than him.

“Come on, boy.” She clicked her tongue and hitched her head toward the kitchen, confirming that her chastisements were for the dog. When she lifted her chin and directed an inquisitive look at Gage, he nodded a greeting. “Evening, Mr. Prescott. Can I get you anything from the kitchen before I head to bed?”

“No, ma’am. I’ve had dinner. If I need anything later, I’ll get it for myself.”

“No, you won’t,” she said, straightening her back and raising her head so that she appeared taller than her diminutive five-foot-two height. Her stern expression brooked no resistance. “There will be no rummaging about in my kitchen and leaving messes for me to find in the morning. If you want a drink, you can use Mr. Cole’s wet bar in the family room. If you want to eat, get it now. After that, the kitchen is closed.”

When they’d arrived earlier in the day, Senator Kelley had told him not to get on the housekeeper’s bad side. “She’s a piece of work that one. Been here since my father first built the ranch. She gave me my first spanking when I was four.”

Gage inclined his head. “Roger that, ma’am. I won’t disturb your kitchen.”

She gave him a satisfied grin. “Good. I think we’ll get along just fine.” She tugged on the sleeve of her sweater as she headed to the kitchen with Ace at her feet. “Tell Hank breakfast is at five. I want Cole to have a good meal before he heads out. If Hank wants to take refuge here while his girlfriends are stirring up trouble, it’s not my place to tell him no. But he can keep to the ranch’s clock,” she tossed over her shoulder in a clipped tone. “I won’t be cooking two sets of meals every day just so he can keep a gentleman’s schedule.”

Gage gave a grunt of amusement. Cole Kelley’s housekeeper reminded him of a few COs he’d had in recent years.

The sound of raised voices led Gage to the living room. Senator Kelley and his son stood on opposite sides of the room glaring at each other as they exchanged verbal volleys. Bart stood just behind the senator with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Do you ever think about anyone besides yourself?” Cole shouted at his father. “Are you really so stupid that you thought no one would find out?”

Gage hadn’t yet been formally introduced to the ranch owner, but the resemblance to his twin brother made Cole’s identity obvious.

“Watch your tone, Cole. I’m still a senator … and your father, and I deserve your respect.”

Cole scoffed. “Respect has to be earned. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you mentioned being a senator before being my father. But then, that’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it? So busy being Mr. Important that you put it before your family.”

Gage drew a slow breath into tight lungs. Tension between the father and son made the air thick, suffocating.

“Maybe that used to be true, but—”

“I’m glad Mom left you.” The son’s tone was bitter. “It’s about time. Frankly, I can’t see why she stayed as long as she did.”

Gage shifted his feet awkwardly, uncomfortable being a witness to the family argument. Judging by Bart’s expression, he was of the same mind.

“It’s a thing called loyalty, Cole,” the senator returned. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”

“I give my loyalty where it’s merited. When’s the last time you gave me a reason to trust you?”

Henry Kelley’s jaw tightened, but he made no reply.

Cole pulled an expression of exasperation and disgust. “I don’t need this tonight.” With a shake of his head, he turned to leave.

“Cole, wait!” The senator took a step, as if to pursue his son, but the rancher paused without facing his father.

“Something has happened that you should know about.” Hank Kelley’s voice rumbled low and unsteady.

Cole’s shoulders drooped, and he rubbed his temple. “What, another of your bimbos crawl out from under a rock claiming to be carrying your child?”

“No, it’s … worse.” The senator sounded truly grieved, seriously upset.

Gage arched an eyebrow and perked his ears. When Dylan Kelley had hired him to guard the senator, he’d been vague about the situation, saying only that he feared his father was in danger and needed to lie low for a while. Gage had assumed his guard duty was directly related to Hank Kelley’s numerous affairs, the women he’d betrayed, the constituents and backers he’d angered with his poor choices. But the gravity of his voice said there was much more at play.

Across the room, Cole huffed loudly, rolled his shoulders, and sent his father a dark glare. “To be honest, Senator,” he said, grating out the title like a foul word, “I’m about sick to death of hearing about the trouble your selfishness has caused our family. I have to leave the ranch before sunup tomorrow for the roundup. So, as much fun as this reunion has been, I’m done for tonight. You can dump your latest screwup on me when I get back next week.”

With that, Cole stormed out.

The senator stared after his son with a forlorn expression, then cut an embarrassed glance to Gage. “I’m sorry about that. Obviously I’m not on the best of terms with my son. Haven’t been for some time.”

Gage cleared his throat and adjusted his stance. “With all due respect, sir, your personal business with your son only concerns me if he’s a threat to your well-being. We’ve been hired to protect you, so if you think your son—”

“Good God, no! Cole might hate me—with good reason—but he’s not out to hurt me! He’s not part of—” The senator stopped abruptly, as if catching himself before he said too much.

Bart stepped forward, flanking the older man’s other side. “Not part of what, sir?”

Hank shook his head and busied himself with collecting the newspaper spread on the chair beside him. “Never mind.”

“Sir, if we are going to protect you, we need to know what we may be up against.” Gage narrowed a hard look on the senator. “You need to tell us who and what threats have been made against you, what trouble you’ve had.”

Hank dropped into the chair and closed his eyes. When he said nothing for several seconds, Bart prodded, “Sir?”

“It’s … a private matter.”

Bart shot Gage a look and rolled his eyes. While Gage shared the sentiment, he kept his mouth firmly set and his posture rigid. Professional. Detached. His job was to protect Senator Henry Kelley, not to like him. The senator, in fact, with his numerous affairs and blatant disregard for his family, confirmed Gage’s belief that most people were rotten at the core. The best one could do in life was to guard your own interests and not grow too attached to anyone. That way, when inevitable disappointments came, the wounds didn’t dig as deep.

Gage moved to the edge of the suede couch and sat across from the older man. “Senator, anything you tell us is strictly confidential. But you need to level with us if we are going to keep you safe.”

Hank tapped a finger on the arm of the Western-style armchair and twisted his mouth. “Fine. Let’s just say, I have … political enemies who … are pressuring me. I believe they could use physical threats to make their point and try to win my cooperation.”

“Are these threats in relation to the women claiming to have had relationships with you?” Gage asked.

Hank’s face reddened a shade, and he cut a side glance to Gage. “Not directly.”

Gage suppressed the surge of impatience that spiked his pulse when the senator continued to equivocate. The man’s flushed skin told Gage he was lying but also called to mind Kate Rogers’s tendency to blush. What had been sexy and intriguing on the pretty waitress was an irritating sign of noncooperation with the senator.

Leaning toward the senator, Gage flipped up his palm in inquiry. “Can you be more specific?”

Hank sighed. “Look, Gage, I know you’re just trying to do your job, but … I didn’t hire you. Dylan did. I’m not happy with the idea of being here. It smacks of hiding from the press and the women who’ve come forward. I hate looking like a coward. I have important matters to tend to—both personal and business—but for reasons I don’t care to elaborate on, I’m here. Do your babysitting thing, if you must—”

Gage ground his back teeth at the man’s derogatory characterization of his job.

“—since that’s what you’re being paid to do, but I’d prefer to keep my private concerns private. No offense intended.”

Hank raised a highball glass to lips, and while the senator drank, Gage met Bart’s eyes. The subtle flicker of impatience and disgust in his colleague’s expression mirrored the frustration bubbling inside Gage—a feeling he determinedly quashed. Emotions had no place in his line of work. He simply needed to do his job.

As Gage shoved to his feet, ready to leave the protection of the senator in Bart’s hands until his shift started in the morning, Hank released a weary sigh and muttered, “They kidnapped my daughter.”

Gage hesitated, not certain he’d heard correctly, then lowered himself back onto the suede couch. “Excuse me?”

Bart circled the chair where the senator sat and settled next to Gage.

“My daughter, Lana, was kidnapped a couple of days ago.” His tone was hushed, defeated. “Her kidnappers called me and made it clear her release was contingent upon my cooperation with their demands.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m being blackmailed.”

Gage battled down the kick in his pulse. Now they were getting somewhere. “Have you notified the authorities?”

The senator’s gaze darted up to his. “No. And neither can you. I was warned not to contact the police or the FBI if I wanted Lana to live.”

“A common enough threat, but the FBI needs to—”

“No!” The senator’s eyes flashed. “This is my problem, and we do things my way. Period. It’s imperative that I not give these people reason to retaliate.”

“What people?” Bart asked.

Hank’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I … can’t tell you. It’s complicated.”

“If your daughter’s life is at stake—”

“I have my own resources. I’m looking into ways to facilitate a rescue but … I need time to plan. I’m still trying to determine where they’re holding her.”

Gage flopped back on the couch, staring at the senator, trying to keep the sour words that sprang to his tongue in check. He thought of Cole’s parting shot about what the senator’s selfishness had cost his family and understood better the depth of the son’s animosity.

Now Hank Kelley, U.S. Senator from California, was jeopardizing his daughter’s life in order to cover his political ass. Or at least that’s how it appeared. Whatever dirt his enemies had to blackmail him with couldn’t be as important as saving his daughter from her kidnappers. Yet to appease his enemies, Hank refused to contact the FBI. Gage’s low opinion of the senator dropped another notch.

“Sir, while I don’t know all the particulars of the situation,” Bart said, “I’d be remiss if I didn’t encourage you to contact the authorities immediately and tell them everything you can about the kidnap—”

“I said no,” Hank growled. “Case closed. I’ll handle this my way.” The senator slammed down his glass and shot to his feet. “I’m going to bed. I’m not to be disturbed before 8:00 a.m.”

Bart stood quickly and followed their charge.

Gage opened his mouth to tell the senator what the housekeeper had said about the 5:00 a.m. breakfast but decided not to waste his breath. If the senator missed his last chance to speak to his son before Cole headed out for roundup, it was none of his business. Family matters were a distraction Gage didn’t want to involve himself in. His job was to keep the senator safe, and that was what Gage intended to do.

Broken bodies littered the earth. Blood ran through the dust in tiny rivers. Moans of the dying assailed his ears. Gage staggered through the wreckage of Humvees and dead soldiers. Disoriented. Confused. Grieving. Where had the attack come from? The road had been clear and then …

He spotted Mike, his best friend in the unit, staring sightlessly into the gray day. And there was Gunner. So young. So cocky. So dead. Further down the convoy, his CO lay with his arms still clutching the wound in his gut. Dead. They were all dead.

A sob lurched from Gage’s chest. Dark despair. Loss. Guilt.

The road had looked clear. He’d told them to proceed. Sweat mingled with his tears as he stumbled down the rutted road. The eyes of his dead unit followed him. The hands of slaughtered soldiers reached out to grab his ankles. Murderer. You failed us.

The breath in his lungs weighted him down like the cold boulders lining the road. He wheezed, choked on the fumes of leaking fuel.

Darrius. Frank. Jimmy B. His head spun as one face followed another. Gone. Bloodied. Broken. Walt. Mad Dog. Ronnie. And …

He froze. His gaze fell on the new face.

Blood streaked her creamy skin. Dust dimmed her golden highlights. Death stole her sunny smile. Kate.

Gage jerked awake, gasping. Sweat bathed his skin, and horror knotted his gut. His gaze darted around the unfamiliar dark room, searching …

No dead soldiers. No dusty road. No Kate.

Nightmare. Again. He muttered a foul curse. Curling his fingers into his sheets, he fought to gain control over his ragged breathing. The rapid-fire beat of his heart.

His bedding had twisted around his legs as he thrashed. With jerky tugs, he freed his feet and swung them to the floor. He lifted his watch from the bedside table and checked the time. Oh three hundred. He had to be up in three hours, ready to guard a selfish senator whose enemies had kidnapped his daughter. A cushy assignment compared to being deployed in Afghanistan.

Gage gritted his teeth. He didn’t deserve cushy. He deserved to have been brought home in a casket like his friends. Protecting the convoy had been his job, and he’d let his unit down.

Why had God spared him? Maybe the nightmares were his punishment. An ongoing reminder of his failure. As if he’d ever forget.

Gage choked back the fist of grief that rose in his throat with the bitter taste of bile.

The dream had changed tonight. What did it mean that Kate was now among the dead?

Why, sir, are you flirting with me?

Gage shuddered and tried to block the image of her lifeless, bloody face. Kate had no place in his nightmare. But maybe that was the point—a stark reminder that he was damaged. That his world was no place for Kate, with her sunshine laugh and blushing innocence. He was only passing through town. As soon as the senator moved on, so would Gage.

Kate might be a breath of fresh air in the dank cave of his life, but he had no room for distraction. And she didn’t need his black cloud obliterating her light.