Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
What was going on?
She looked back at Henry, who was gently herding his wife to the doors, helping her around the goats. “Henry, do you have bars?”
Henry stopped and slipped his cell out of his pocket. “No. I don’t. The call connected?”
She nodded. “Yes. I got him on the line but…”
There was the sound of something going off in the distance.
Gunfire.
“Ladies, I need you to move to the far corner of the barn.” Henry’s tone had gone icy cold. Like something had washed over him and all the hugginess was gone.
“Did Noah’s car backfire?” Lucy moved to the door.
Henry blocked her. “No. That’s not how modern cars sound. That was gunfire, and it’s coming from one of the houses. Lucy, please take my wife to one of the back stalls and make her as comfortable as you can while I figure out what’s going on.”
“Henry,” Nell began.
He seemed to take control of himself. A long, deep breath and his expression cleared and he was Henry again. “I know, baby. I’ll be careful. I’ll be gentle.”
Nell’s hands shook as she reached up and cupped her husband’s face. “I’m sorry. I called the wrong name. I need you, John Bishop. This baby needs you. Our baby.”
Whoa. Okay, now if she didn’t sort of know the story, she would think Henry had a double personality disorder. John Bishop was the name he’d gone by when he’d worked for the CIA in black ops. When he’d been a deadly operative.
“Nell,” he began.
She shook her head. “Do what you need to do, John. Whatever you need to do. You are off the leash, my love.”
His eyes hardened at the words, but he kissed her tenderly. “Stay safe. I’ll be back.”
Brooke’s heart rate tripled because she heard the sound of large vehicles pulling up to the driveway. “I think that might be Bay.”
She started for the door but Henry moved in front of her. He eased the door open slightly, and his frown told her most of what she needed to know. The low growl of his words told her the rest. “Not Bay. It’s two trucks. Maybe ten men, and they all have weapons, which will be helpful to me.”
A chill snaked along her spine. Shane had been worried about something happening. Bay hadn’t believed him, but it looked like Bay was going to eat those words. Shane was still out there. “Shane and Bay had some trouble with a rancher a few months back.”
“I know. I actually started looking into the man months ago when Trev was worried about him joining the ranching collective the G belongs to. I will say the man is good at covering his tracks. I can show you where his books don’t align, but I can’t prove where the money is coming from,” Henry admitted. “I suspect he runs his ranch like a mafia head, including getting rid of disloyal employees.”
“How is them having guns helpful?” Lucy stood by Nell. “I think they’re going to try to kill us all.”
She would give it to her friend. Lucy was calm under pressure. She took Nell’s wrist in hand and took her pulse, watching the timer on her cell.
“They won’t have the guns when John is through.” Nell also sounded almost preternaturally calm. “He’ll have them, and normally I would ask him to be as earth friendly as he can when dealing with persons of this nature, but I’m about to push a baby through my vagina and I want him to be fast.”
Henry’s brows rose as if he was thoroughly surprised. “I can use the guns?”
Nell’s expression turned fierce as Lucy let her wrist go and she faced her husband. Even Brooke could see the way her belly tightened. The woman was not merely in active labor. She was close. “Guns, knives, I don’t care, John. Deal with this and get back to me because our daughter is on her way. I swear she heard that gunshot and took it as a sign she should come into this world right now.”
Henry nodded.
Brooke could hear the men outside whooping it up. Like this was a party.
Who had they shot? Shane didn’t carry around a gun. He was beyond competent when it came to rifles and shotguns, but he didn’t walk around with one on his person at all times.
Was Shane dead? Had she spent all of their time together making him feel like he couldn’t give her what she needed?
Why did it take a gunshot to get such perfect clarity?
All she needed was them. They would figure it out. Happiness wasn’t ever based around one single choice, but a never-ending string of them that could be confused by circumstance and guilt and fear.
They would never ask her to choose them over her career. They would adapt to her because those men loved her in a way she’d hoped to be loved. Unconditionally. Wholly. Without fear on their part.