Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

It was one of the longest nights of Cade's life. Right up there with some nights in the Army where he'd had to pull all-nighters without knowing if he or his buddies would survive and the night he had almost died, saved three of his friends' lives, and blew his knee out.

It is .

Jacey's voice played in his head. She was choosing to leave him, to walk away. He knew she wanted to protect him from her mother and the atrocities she'd seen, but it stung that she didn't think he could protect her. Even worse that she was choosing to leave him.

He wanted to line up his guns and magazines and extra bullets, but everything except the Colt .45 he always carried were in his master closet. No way was he bursting in on Jacey and seeing that look of resolve in her eyes as she chose to leave him.

Clint called, interrupting his musings. He sounded awful. The fact that Sheryl had come screaming for Cade should've been a balm on his own wounded heart. Instead he felt anger that she'd hurt Clint more. Clint said he let her go after she agreed to drive down the canyon but then she stopped at the bottom and screamed all the reasons she'd dumped him. Sheesh. Insult to injury for his friend.

They didn't think she'd recognized Jacey, but Clint said he would stay up and monitor the feeds as well. Cade appreciated the help. He thought the likelihood of Sheryl connecting the dots and broadcasting it to the world before morning was slim, but he didn't want to take any chances with Jacey's safety.

They hung up and his mind circled back around to Jacey not wanting him, not loving him, not choosing him. She was leaving in the morning. He'd do his chores and then he could wallow and take a nap. Being alone hadn't bothered him too much this past year. It'd been great therapy. He'd found himself and, more importantly, reconnected with his Savior. Now being alone loomed like a dark hole. Without Jacey, he would get sucked in and die there.

He was being dramatic. That wasn't him.

Long hours passed. Five a.m. finally came. He debated doing chores but couldn't stand to be away from her.

He showered quick, put on cologne, and dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans. He was a smitten mess. And she was leaving. He'd known when her memory returned she'd realize she was eons out of his league and he'd been the one to stupidly stop kissing her and tell her he ‘couldn't'. He wanted to explain he ‘couldn't' let down his guard right now, but he hoped she'd choose him when she was safe.

Good thing he hadn't gotten the words out. He'd be more humiliated than Sheryl dumping him, and that had been viewed by the entire town at the Fourth of July celebration and the church potluck dinner and the rodeo crowd.

He was still a darn fool like he'd been a year ago.

A ding came on the computer. Staring at the computer and yanking out his phone, he could see two vehicles driving up the canyon. It could just be Sheryl again, but he wasn't risking Jacey for anything.

His neck prickled and darkness swirled around him. It was similar to the times in the military when they'd been attacked without warning.

He raced across the hall. "Jacey!" he called, rapping hard on the door.

He waited, wasting precious seconds.

"Jacey!" He knocked again.

The door flung open. She stood there in a T-shirt and soft-looking shorts, her eyes cloudy and red-rimmed, her hair all over the place. She was beautiful. Had she been crying?

"Get some shoes and put some pants on." There was no time to sugarcoat anything. "We've got to go."

He turned and rushed back into his office. He zoomed in and studied the camera feed to the entrance of the canyon. Two SUVs that looked like they were CIA or Secret Service had come past the canyon entrance. They were moving fast, obviously not caring about ruining their vehicles or an uncomfortable ride.

He debated what to do as he pushed Clint's number. It rang and rang. Had Clint fallen asleep? Cade would get Jacey in a secure spot and hopefully distract them. Clint should be getting alerts, but he'd keep trying to call. He typed in YouTube and clicked on the first video he saw, turning the volume up and confirming auto-play was on. Hopefully they'd hear the noise and come investigate, giving Clint time to assemble a small army. If he'd answer his phone. He dialed again.

Racing back into his master suite as the phone rang, he saw Jacey in the closet tugging running shoes on. He hurried in, bumping her in his hurry. His heart was beating high and fast. Breathing wasn't easy. He was headed into battle but not with his highly trained unit. He was by himself, defending the woman he'd fallen in love with from a sadistic mother and an army of mercenaries.

"Sorry, sweetheart." He really needed to stop calling her that.

Her lips were pinched and her face pale. "My mother?"

"I'm afraid so." He handed her the phone. "Can you call Clint? He didn't answer."

He reached above her head and grabbed his Mossberg 590 shotgun. He already had his pistol strapped on. He grabbed extra magazines and ammo for the guns and tilted his head. "Let's go." If only he could hold her hand, hold her, reassure her.

She nodded and pushed Clint's number and the speaker button as they rushed down the stairs. The phone rang and rang. He clicked on the TV and pushed play on the movie in the DVD player. Sweet Home Alabama . He wished innocence such as kissing Jacey anytime he wanted existed.

They ran through the great room. He flipped on a light in the bathroom and turned on the water. Anything to make them search the house longer and not find them. Should he cruise off in the Ranger or hide out in the garage?

Lights bouncing off the canyon walls made the decision. They were only five or six minutes out. They'd easily overtake the Ranger. How had they gotten here so fast ?

Jacey gave a little cry seeing those lights. Clint still wasn't answering. What was wrong?

"The barn," he murmured.

She ran full out behind his house, the house giving them cover, then she wisely used the trees and went around the backside of the barn, using the rear entrance.

Cade looked around the darkened barn. The horses neighed greetings. What if they gave them away?

"Shh. Shh." Cade tried to calm them, directing Jacey to the ladder and the hay loft. He'd have the elevated position and a great view of the small front door of the barn. He doubted they'd try to open the large overhead door. Too noisy and obvious.

She put the phone in her pocket and climbed the ladder quickly and easily. Cade shoved the ammo and extra magazines in his pockets as best he could and strapped the shotgun over his back.

He heard doors open and close in the distance. They were here. He scaled the ladder quickly, crouched next to where Jacey was kneeling, her body trembling. He needed to comfort her, but protecting her had to come first.

"Phone," he murmured, holding out his hand. She handed it over. He turned it to silent and then texted Clint and Quaid. The only numbers in the phone. It was a mistake not to put more numbers in or somehow retrieve his phone or have Clint get him a new one. Too late to rectify that now.

Two vehicles. Unknown numbers. We're in the barn loft. I'll hold them off. Don't come without a lot of manpower.

Then he unloaded his pockets and shoved the phone in. One of the men would get the message and raise an army, but how long would that take and how many could they gather on short notice?

Pulling out his pistol and lifting his shotgun over his head, he made sure they were loaded, safety off, bullets, shells, and an extra magazine sitting by. Then he gently ushered Jacey back away from the edge to hopefully avoid anyone seeing her. It was dim in the barn. He squinted to see through the bit of pre-dawn light through the door seam. Not knowing how close the men were was unnerving. He felt like he was blindfolded. Listening was imperative.

He heard their engines cut, doors opening and closing to vehicles and then his house. Jacey's quiet pants for air concerned him. The men weren't approaching the barn. Yet.

He eased back. "It'll be all right," he whispered close to her ear. "Stay down and quiet. Clint will be here soon." He hoped.

"She'll torture and kill you," Jacey whimpered, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight. She shook like a leaf in a windstorm.

It was hard to wrap his mind around his brave Jacey being absolutely terrified, but he hadn't grown up with a murderous mother who tortured people. He wanted to help Jacey heal, but this wasn't the time and she'd already chosen to leave him.

Gently pulling her arms away, he whispered close to her ear, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm a cowboy. We're built tough."

"You have no idea what they're capable of," she whispered harshly.

Maybe he didn't, but he'd fight to the death to keep her safe.

Pulling out the phone, he handed it over. Her beautiful face was illuminated in the light of the phone screen. Her eyes were wide, darting to the door and back to his face, her lips pinched. Maybe giving her a focus would help .

"Don't answer it and give us away, but you can text them. Just cover up the screen so no light shows."

She nodded.

He gave her a reassuring smile. It didn't seem to take. "Hide back against the hay."

Thankfully she obeyed, burrowing back and out of sight from the door and the ground floor.

Cade picked up his shotgun and lay down on his stomach, edging close to the twenty-foot drop. Best case, they didn't investigate up here. If only he hadn't built that ladder to be permanent and could pull it up. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness. His hands were steady but his breathing too fast. Jacey's breathing was fast too. He wanted to reassure her, but then he heard it. Footsteps.

Stay hidden. Don't give away their location unless he had to. He would love to take out her mother's men and be a hero in her eyes, but reinforcements coming and her mother's men being arrested and hopefully leading the authorities to her mother was best case scenario for Jacey.

Cade squinted down the barrel at the men coming in the barn. The light of dawn highlighted them as they opened the door. All in black. Body armor with ballistic face shields. Infrared goggles on. Assault rifles. They moved stealthily and started sweeping the barn. Well trained for sure. Two so far. If they heard or glimpsed him and Jacey, the load of men would descend.

Slowly easing back so they couldn't see him, he lined up his shot.

One man circled under the ladder. Cade's neck prickled and sweat popped out on his forehead and back. Take the guy out if he started climbing or scoot back and try to surprise him and slit his neck? Either would be loud enough the other man would hear. A shot would bring the rest of the unit. Waiting carried the risk of Cade not prevailing and Jacey being left alone and exposed. Cade believed he would win a hand-to-hand fight or with a knife, but it wasn't worth letting his pride rule.

He heard the shuffling of a gun strap and that first boot strike against his wood ladder. Jacey panted for air behind him.

Cade had no choice. At the top of the ladder, the man would be ready for resistance. It had to be while both hands were occupied. He let out a breath, leaned over the edge, and took the shot.

The shotgun reverberated loudly through the loft. The man thudded to the concrete floor without a peep and didn't move. Jacey gasped softly. The horses neighed uneasily.

The other guard froze and then pivoted to his buddy. He obviously hadn't expected resistance. Cade saw him easing back toward the cover of his tractor and pulling out a radio. He hated taking life, but he couldn't let the guy sound an alarm besides what he already had with his shot. Who knew how many more men would descend on them? They could rip apart this loft with a repeated assault and Jacey would be dead.

He aimed for the upper part of the body armor, glad he'd brought a shotgun so the buckshot would spread in flight and find the gaps around the armor and in the mask. He pulled the trigger. The 12-guage blast was deafening. The man was punched backward completely off his feet and thrown to the ground. The shot to the upper torso and neck area had been on target.

Cade debated what to do. Relocate or hold this position? More men would come if they were outside and had heard the shots, when they didn't report in, or if the second man had pushed a warning button.

"Jacey?" he asked to be heard over the short-term damage to her ears from the blast. "Any response?"

"Clint's on his way," she whispered loudly back.

Okay. Twenty minutes. More likely thirty to round up the men they'd need. Jared, Clint, Easton, and Walker Coleville from the ranch. Maybe two or three trained hands. Clint's deputies from town would be farther behind. Help from Kalispell's sheriff or the bigger departments of Missoula and Coeur d'Alene would be well over an hour.

Hold the position. It was a good one. He would have to pick them off as they walked into the barn and hope they kept coming in pairs.

Footsteps sprinted toward the barn. He could hear them even over the ringing in his ears.

Time for battle.