Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

Sloan gaped at the well-built and very-much armed cowboy, uncertain how to stay safe in this situation.

“Why do you have a gun?” she whispered.

Rhett glanced at her, shoving the pistol into the holster. “To protect you,” he said simply.

He had helped her out of the mud and protected her from the roofers whistling at her. His statement aligned with how he’d acted, but she was nervous and questioning everything right now.

“Is that even legal?”

“Yes.” He regarded her strangely. “It isn’t legal in Vegas to carry?”

“I don’t know.” She couldn’t stop staring at him. He was like a hero out of a movie—tall, dark, and dangerously handsome with the cowboy hat shading his face, the holster slung low and the gun on his hip, his defined upper body muscles highlighted by the damp T-shirt.

“We don’t know who we’re facing. I’m not planning on using the gun, but I’m not walking in there unarmed.”

She swallowed and said a prayer for clarity to know his purpose, and strength to protect herself if he turned on her. Her pulse spiked, and all her dad’s warnings about contractors and why she needed to stay close to him ran through her mind. She would never concede that her dad was right, but she couldn’t protect herself if a man as fit, big, and armed as Rhett turned on her.

“Sloan.” Rhett said her name softly.

She stared at him, her fingers trembling. She held onto the door more firmly for support, trying to look confident.

“I have been trained how to use a gun,” he said, calm and in control and reassuring, “and I would never use it to hurt anyone who is innocent. I am wearing it to keep you safe.” He paused and studied her, his enticing blue eyes offering another line of reassurance. “Do you believe me?”

Sloan thought about it for a few seconds and found she did believe him. He’d helped her repeatedly and he seemed to read her emotions as well as anyone she’d ever known.

She realized she wasn’t scared of him, but horrified of what she may have walked into. She’d known there would be battles to fight up here, but she’d imagined they would be verbal battles. As she’d finished work in Vegas, packed up, and said goodbye to Kathy and her life there, she’d been anticipating the challenge of rising above the battles, working united with the builders, living in the rustic and laid-back beauty of Montana, proving she could do this—to herself, not to her dad.

She nodded to Rhett. He was her only ally right now, and if he thought he needed to be armed, maybe this situation was worse than she had imagined.

“You okay?”

“As I can be.” Sloan looked around at the beloved cabin. She couldn’t afford an extended hotel stay, but she’d also been looking forward to staying in Grandpa’s cabin. As much as her dad loathed it, she’d always loved the rustic spot. Grandpa would tell her all kinds of stories about her mom. He’d tell her she could do and be anything she wanted to be, help teach her stuff like how to fish or tie a knot. All the memories rushed back just being here, and she remembered something else: Grandpa had always had a rifle or pistol with him. Maybe Rhett wasn’t such an oddity being armed. Not in these parts.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She nodded more resolutely. She was ready to kick whoever was in her cabin out, clean it up, and relax with her bag of chocolate by a cozy fire tonight. By herself. With all the doors barred. What did one bar doors with? Interesting that she’d felt safe and confident in Vegas with its high crime rate but was terrified in remote Montana.

As Rhett moved closer and wrapped his arm around her waist, she felt warm and a little light-headed. Did she have to keep fighting through life by herself? Why wouldn’t she want this surprising man to stick around?

Because she hardly knew him, an hour ago he hadn’t been her biggest fan, and Sloan Jensen didn’t trust anyone but the Savior and Kathy. She’d never had to remind herself of that repeatedly.

They progressed across the once-graveled driveway. Most of the gravel lay in piles at the edges. Had they scraped down to the mud while trying to clear snow? How long had these people been staying in her cabin?

She leaned heavily into Rhett, clinging to his waist with one hand and holding her other hand out for balance. Her hand brushed the holster and reminded her of that black pistol. Thankfully it was on his other hip. She could understand it might be a necessity, but she was still a little uneasy about the gun thing.

“Are you certain I can’t talk you into waiting in the truck?” he asked. “Anybody who’s squatting at a dead man’s house can’t be a friendly visitor.”

“I wouldn’t dream of making you face it alone.” She dredged up her courage. Even Kathy didn’t understand what a pretense her bravery was. It was the only thing that had kept her safe from her father. Kathy asked her to let down her guard with men, but she also commended her on her bravery. Sloan had taken the ‘fake it until you make it’ motto to the extreme. She’d pretended to be confident and independent for so long that it was universally accepted.

“Yep,” Rhett drawled out. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

She actually smiled, liking the sarcasm in his voice. But her grin quickly slid away. “I wonder how long they’ve been here.”

“Have you had someone checking on the place?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know anyone up here, and since there’s no electricity, I figured I could just start the generator like Grandpa taught me.”

“Hmm,” he said, and she could read his thoughts through the single sound. He thought she was out of her element. She was—a complete fish out of water. But she wouldn’t say the words out loud. She couldn’t think of a time in her life she’d asked for help. Growing up, her dad had done everything for her, no matter how she fought him. As soon as she’d broken free of his net of control, she’d fought fiercely for her independence.

They reached the front porch. Rhett helped her onto it, and she realized she’d left the keys in her coat pocket. She’d put the house key the lawyer gave her after the graveside service on her key chain.

“I left the key. Shall we go back and grab it or knock?”

“Let’s knock. See who we’re dealing with and not take them by surprise. Lot of folks would shoot first and ask questions later if you barged into their house.”

“It’s not their house.” She jutted out her chin when she wanted to hide behind him. Shoot first and ask questions later? Had she driven through two states or into another world? The ethereal beauty surrounding them suddenly seemed more reminiscent of a horror film.

“They don’t think that.” Rhett stepped in front of her. “Can you please at least stay back until I’m certain it’s safe?”

“Fine.” She blew out a heavy breath and drew it in, straightening her shoulders. She acted tough like she’d trained herself to do, but she’d never been more relieved. He seemed to read her mind, and she truly appreciated him more than she could express. He’d rescued her over and over again since she met him an hour ago. Despite the gun, she felt as comfortable around him as any man she’d ever known.

“Thank you, Sloan,” he said, giving her an appreciative look that made her stomach do a happy dance.

“No, thank you, Rhett.” She hoped she said the words sincerely enough. She’d be lost without him right now. For the first time in years, she was letting her independent guard down and letting a man take care of her. She returned the smile but had to add, “But don’t think I’ll be some docile female all the time.”

“I wouldn’t dare conjure that thought.” He winked, turned, and rapped his knuckles hard on the door before she could return the banter.

Her stomach hopped in anticipation of what may be coming.

“What?” a man’s voice hollered from inside.

Sloan startled.

Rhett waited but no footsteps came. He knocked again.

“We don’t want any,” another yell came.

He glanced back at her. “Plucky for squatters, aren’t they now?”

She laughed at his fake British accent and appreciated the humor.

“Do you get many squatters up here?” she whispered. It was a problem on construction sites in Vegas simply because of how many homeless people resided in the area with the temperate climate. She couldn’t imagine someone being homeless here. She shivered at the thought, noticing the chilly air. Rhett had kept her warm even without her coat.

Rhett leaned toward her, looking like he might wrap her up tight again. He was only in a T-shirt. He looked strong, ultra-fit, and not cold at all.

“Not really,” he said, facing the door again. “If they couldn’t find a place, they’d freeze to death.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “Let’s see if it’s unlocked.”

The door turned in his hand. He pushed it inward, and warmth, light, and the scents of garbage and unwashed bodies spilled out into the drab, rainy late afternoon. It was an odd mix for certain.

“What are you doin’ here?” a man demanded, storming up to the door.

Rhett stepped more fully in front of her and put his left hand on her arm as if to keep Sloan back. She glimpsed the man’s face before Rhett blocked her view. Her cousin Jaxon. He was only a couple years older than her and would’ve been handsome if not for the perpetual scowl on his face and his teeth turning black from chewing tobacco.

“I’m here to ask you to vacate the premises, or I can drag you to your truck by your ankles,” Rhett said evenly. The threat was understated, but his voice was steel. “Which would you prefer?”

“I’ve been waitin’ for you to come to town, pretty cousin,” Jaxon taunted her, not answering Rhett. “We’ve been dyin’ to give you a proper welcome.” He cracked his knuckles.

“This is my house. You have no right to be here,” Sloan threw at him, poking her head around Rhett’s shoulder to glare at her cousin. He was bigger than she remembered.

Please help me be brave and don’t let him hurt Rhett , she pleaded with her Father above.

“Oh, you don’t understand the welcome I have for you.” He slammed his fist into his other palm, grinning at her, his teeth yellowish-brown.

She put a hand on Rhett’s back, the muscle there reassuring her that Jaxon wouldn’t get through him and hurt her. Where was Preston? Both yells had been Jaxon’s voice. The two were always together and there’d been two trucks out front. Together her cousins would overpower even the tough Rhett Coleville. Could she call 911 or help somehow?

“The welcoming party is over,” Rhett said, as relaxed and confident as she longed to be. Was it the gun, or had his upbringing taught him how to be truly brave? He wore his courage like a second skin. “Are you leaving, or should I thrash you first to make my point and then drag you out of here?”

Jaxon let out a roar and rushed at him.

Rhett stepped into the house, going toward the raging bull instead of ducking away. Sloan’s eyes widened in surprise and horror. Jaxon was big, and mean, and she could bet he would fight dirty.

Rhett dodged to the side and then slammed his elbow into Jaxon’s upper back as the man flew by.

Jaxon slammed into the hardwood floor face first. A loud whump and a string of curses flowed from him.

Sloan gave a happy and surprised cry.

Jaxon rolled over and struggled up, coming at Rhett with his fists whirling. Rhett blocked his advance, knocking his punches away, and then landed two well-placed jabs into Jaxon’s cheek and jaw.

“Hey!” Preston appeared in the hallway, his hair and clothes rumpled as if he’d been sleeping. He rushed toward the fight. Oh, no.

Sloan tottered into the room on her muddy heels, not sure what she could do to help, but intent on doing something. Rhett was helping her out of the goodness of his heart; she couldn’t let these two brutes double-team him, injure or possibly even kill him.

“Stay back, Sloan,” Rhett warned.

He downed Jaxon with a solid hit to the temple. As Jaxon thumped to the floor, Rhett turned to face Preston. The moment seemed to slow as Rhett in all his brawny glory easily defeated one cousin and was ready to take on the other. He was absolutely heroic. She’d never seen any man to equal Rhett Coleville.

Preston jabbed his fists into Rhett’s upper body, and Sloan cried out. Even heroes got worn down. Rhett was tired and had just battled the brute Jaxon.

Jaxon stirred on the floor, and she feared he’d rise up and join the fight again. Oh, no. No, no, no. Should she call the police? Pick up one of the metal fire pokers and try to bash Jaxon over the head? She shuddered at her violent thought, but it was Jaxon who had started this fight.

Preston and Rhett battled it out, trading hits. Sloan winced every time Rhett took a hit, though they only seemed to land on his muscular torso or his arms, which were raised to block, and did no real damage.

Rhett’s cowboy hat got knocked off and his jaw tightened. “Hey, now,” he said in a warning voice.

Jaxon struggled to his knees. Sloan’s fears rose. She reached for her phone to call 911, but her pockets were empty. The phone was in her purse in the truck. Oh, shoot. What a nightmare. They were defenseless and in danger.

She edged toward the door. She’d have to take her shoes off and run for the truck barefoot, call for help, and then come back and try to help Rhett with this battle. The fire poker was the only weapon she could see.

Rhett’s fists became a whirlwind. He drove Preston back with precise punches to his chest and abdomen.

Jaxon made it to his feet, wobbly but still standing.

“Rhett!” Sloan cried out, lifting one foot and trying to undo the slim buckle. It was covered in mud and slick in her trembling fingers.

She was as terrified as she felt each time she faced her father.

Rhett grabbed Preston’s forearm, whipped him around in front of him, and yanked his hand and arm back in an unnatural and painful-looking chicken wing position.

Preston yelped and cursed, sweating and writhing.

Rhett held him in place with fierce pressure on that one arm. He reached across, grabbed the pistol out with his left hand and pointed it straight at Jaxon.

Her unsteady cousin backed up and bumped into the wall, holding up his hands, while Preston continued to writhe but made no progress in freeing himself.

Sloan’s jaw dropped. She released her shoe. Was she seeing this correctly? Rhett was in complete control of this battle. He was a superstar, a warrior, the toughest general contractor she’d ever met in her life. With his handsome face and fighting skills, he should be on the big screen. Her fears fled and she thanked the good Lord for putting a man like Rhett Coleville in her path.

“Now,” Rhett said, calm as could be. “Would you two like to vacate the premises or do I need to help you to your trucks?”

“We’ll leave,” Preston cried out. “Please. Just let me go.”

Jaxon’s eyes were wild and darting around. “You ain’t gonna shoot us,” he muttered. “We have more right to be here than she does, and Sheriff Joe will take our side. He hates stuck-up outsiders like her.”

“I have no problem shooting you. Then it won’t matter whose side the sheriff takes,” Rhett said with a raised brow. “You are trespassing, and you attacked me. If you dare threaten or get anywhere close to Sloan, I’ll shoot you through the heart. If you keep mouthing off to me, I’ll just take off a finger or two. What’ll it be?”

Silence filled the room, except for Preston’s whimpering. He’d stopped fighting to free himself. Rhett looked fearlessly superhuman. Sloan didn’t think even her thick-witted cousins would dare mess with him.

“Let’s go,” Preston urged his brother.

“Fine.” Jaxon turned and stomped toward the door, and her.

Sloan scurried to the side. She hated that she was afraid of him, but she was. She was acting opposite of the brave, accomplished businesswoman she’d worked so hard to become, but she’d been thrust into an alternate universe up here. Rhett was her only safe space.

“This isn’t over, pretty cousin,” Jaxon sneered.

“Through the heart, then?” Rhett asked, still in that cool, composed tone. His finger tightened on the trigger.

“No!” Jaxon screamed. He tripped down the porch steps, righted himself, and raced for his truck, slamming himself inside. The motor roared and he peeled out of the driveway.

“Loyal brother you have there,” Rhett said. He released Preston’s arm and commanded, “Turn and face me.”

Preston hurried to comply, cradling his one arm against his stomach and holding his other hand up as the gun was now pointed at him. “You ain’t got no call to shoot me,” Preston said, his voice quavering and his aloft hand shaking.

Rhett quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t I? You wouldn’t shoot a man who trespassed on private property?”

Preston’s eyes widened. “I don’t know who you are, but you picked the wrong fight.” He tried to say it bravely, but he was quaking badly now.

“I’m ending this fight.” Rhett was as calm as Preston was upset. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near Sloan, this house, or any of Sloan’s building sites, or I will shoot to kill. Understood?”

“Y-yes,” Preston managed.

“You may leave now.” Rhett dismissed him with a tilt of his head.

Preston backed hurriedly toward the door. As soon as he reached it, he grabbed it and swung it closed behind him. His hurried footsteps could be heard on the porch and a few seconds later his truck started and spun away.

Rhett holstered his gun and focused on her. “Are you all right?”

Sloan could only stare at him. She’d seen Hollywood stars who weren’t this compelling. “Who are you?” she asked in awe.

What kind of a man was this? He could fight better than a military superhero and he was willing to fight for her. She refused to be the docile female, but Rhett made her want to be his female.

She pushed that unreasonable thought away. Ten minutes ago, she’d been terrified of his gun and questioning his intentions. Now she was grateful to him and trusted he’d protect her. Her prayers for clarity and protection had come true, but that didn’t mean she could develop a relationship with him.

“Rhett Coleville, ma’am.” He picked up his hat, dusted it off, put it back on his head, and tipped it to her. “At your service.”

Sloan smiled unsteadily. She wanted to run at him and fling her arms around him, cling to his strength, composure, and allure. Instead, she settled for, “Thank you. A million times, thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Their gazes caught and held. Sloan had been terrified of that gun when she first saw it, but when she’d watched Rhett use it to control her cousins, she’d appreciated the weapon.

She wanted Rhett to stay by her side from here on. First he had helped her in the mud and muck, then he had rescued her with her stuck car, buried his frustrations about her mistakes with the construction projects, and now he’d truly rescued her.

What if she had come here by herself? She wrapped a hand around her throat, feeling it constrict. Grandpa had never let her be alone with Preston or Jaxon the times she’d visited, but they’d said surly, terrifying things to her whenever they got close enough and an adult wasn’t within listening distance.

They would’ve hurt her, threatened her, maybe even killed her. Who knew? They hadn’t liked her as children, and they despised her now that she’d received the inheritance they thought they should get. Her dad had warned her repeatedly that the Lewis men were underhanded and desperate. The lawsuit wasn’t the end of it. She knew her father was underhanded, so she had ignored his warnings, but he had been spot-on this time.

She was even more grateful for Rhett.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay by her side always.

She dragged her eyes away and looked around the living room. Pop and beer cans, dirty plates, and takeout containers littered the coffee table and the floor. Muddy footprints were all over the wood floor. A thick layer of dust covered any space Preston and Jaxon hadn’t sat on or set something on. She’d be cleaning for hours, and she’d have to find a way to bar the doors so she could sleep tonight. It had been a mistake thinking she could stay out here all alone. She shivered and hugged herself.

“You all right?” he asked again.

“Because of you,” she admitted. “I can’t ever express my gratitude to you, Rhett Coleville. You’ve rescued me in every which way.” She sounded like a besotted female, but at the moment she didn’t care. “If you’re still up for shopping for boots and maybe a few groceries, I would really appreciate that. Then I’ll come back, clean this place up, and find a way to sleep tonight.”

She met his gaze, forcing herself to be brave. It was one thing to be an assertive woman and speak to a conference room full of male contractors, surprising and impressing them with her knowledge. It was quite another to be alone in the forest, in a filthy cabin with a wood-burning stove and a generator for power, terrified that her cousins would come back as soon as Rhett wasn’t by her side.

Something in his blue eyes brought warmth to her chest and a shot of courage that didn’t feel like she was dredging it up.

Sloan might be in danger and in over her head, but she had Rhett Coleville on her side.

If that was true, she’d never been so safe physically, yet so in danger emotionally.