Prologue
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“With all due respect, sir—isn’t there anyone else you can send to marry your daughter? Logan Hughes is… well… kind of an ass,” Corporal Myers said. A serious young man with dark eyes and dark, regulation-short hair, he leaned in the doorway of the General’s office, as if unsure of his welcome.
General Augustus Reed didn’t reprimand him. Myers did good work and kept his mouth shut when many others would have protested the way he’d circumvented every rule in the book to assemble the Joint Special Task Force for Inter-Branch Communication Clarity. Anyone else would have balked at the ragtag group of men the General had gathered—men who’d messed up their military careers so badly they couldn’t say no to the proposition he’d put to them. Would have protested the way he’d brought them here to USSOCOM in Tampa, Florida, under false pretenses and sent them one by one to Two Willows in Montana, where his five errant daughters lived.
Would have flipped his lid about the mission the General had given those men: Take back control of his ranch, marry his daughters and keep them out of trouble for good.
Myers hadn’t raised an eyebrow. He’d kept his mouth shut while the General managed to marry off three of the five men on his bogus task force and prepared to send the fourth one to Two Willows. The General would hate to lose an asset like the corporal.
“What is it you object to?” he asked Myers, knowing all too well the answer. He’d chosen Logan Hughes as a match for Lena, the most belligerent of his brood. Lena would require a hell of a man to convince her to marry; she’d been against the institution as long as she’d understood it. But then she’d been against almost everything he’d ever suggested. Lena was like a bucking bronco, lashing out at any attempt to rein her in. Convinced Two Willows was hers to run since the day she could ride, she’d been furious when he’d hired overseers after his wife, Amelia, had died. The General understood Lena’s attachment to the ranch, but she’d only been fourteen when Amelia passed away, much too young to take on such a job.
The General shook his head at the memories of his girls booting out overseers and guardians, over and over again, during their tumultuous teen years. It had been hell at the time, but he had to admit now some of their tactics were worthy of a chuckle or two. He’d been relieved when his oldest daughter, Cass, turned twenty-one and he could send the last of their female guardians packing. As for the overseers, they stayed.
He’d seen too much of the world to imagine Lena could manage the job on her own. A young woman couldn’t ride herd on a bunch of rough men. The ranch required hired hands to run it, and hands were rarely the sort you wanted around your daughters. He’d tried to pick overseers with connections—wives and families around to keep them sane. He’d trusted them to maintain the peace on the ranch and to keep his daughters out of harm’s way. Unfortunately, that had only worked temporarily.
It was his daughters’ fault, of course—they’d run so many good men off the ranch, the pool from which to choose had gotten too small. He’d chosen wrong last time and nearly gotten his girls killed. The knowledge still stung.
That’s when the General decided he needed a more permanent solution. He’d created the task force, sent Navy SEAL Brian Lake to marry Cass, and that had worked out just fine. He’d sent Para-rescueman Connor O’Riley to marry Sadie, and that had worked out, too. He’d sent Navy SEAL sniper Hunter Powell next, and today Hunter was marrying his youngest, Jo.
Which meant it was Logan’s turn to head to Two Willows. Although the General shared some of Corporal Myers’s misgivings.
“Well?” he asked when the corporal didn’t answer.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Always.” The General sighed. Myers was a little too punctilious for his tastes sometimes.
“Hughes… isn’t the kind of man Lena wants.”
The General straightened in surprise. “What do you know about what Lena wants?” Hell, was the man blushing? The General leaned forward. What was wrong with his corporal?
“I don’t know much at all. It’s just… from what you’ve said, and her photographs…” He waved a hand at the photos on the wall, which depicted all the female members of the General’s family. The General understood. In most of them, Lena’s expression ranged from focused to, well, fierce.
“Logan Hughes is more of a man than he lets on.” The General hoped he was right. Because God help them all if Logan wasn’t. “He’s a good man. We’ve got to give him a chance.”
“You think Lena is going to give him a chance? Begging your pardon, sir.”
“I said you could speak freely, Corporal.” The General rubbed his chin. He looked at the documents on his desk, detailing the itinerary of his upcoming trip to Asia and the Middle East. He was getting too old for these jaunts. They used to energize him, but this time—this time he wished—
The General shook off the traitorous thoughts. He was far from old and far from done with his career. He was simply unsettled by the violence that had plagued Two Willows recently. His daughters—and the men he’d sent to marry them—had faced off with a pack of drug dealers trying to make a move on Two Willows three times now. He’d like to think the matter was settled.
But he doubted it.
And then there was the matter of his grandchild. Cass was pregnant, and the thought of that baby was troubling him. Bad enough his daughters kept getting themselves into dangerous situations. A baby needed to be protected.
And a baby made him think of his wife. Amelia would have loved grandchildren, if she’d lived long enough to see them.
He cleared his throat. “Hughes will convince her to give him a chance,” he said to Myers. “Send him in.”
Myers looked like he had more to say, but he retreated to the door, disappeared through it and came back followed by a huge, barrel-chested Marine.
“Morning, General,” Hughes said.
The General surveyed him. Took in his short-cropped light brown hair, direct blue-eyed gaze, massive biceps, and semi-aggressive stance. Hughes was a man who took up all the space in a room when he entered it. If he’d just shut up once in a while, he might have made a hell of a career in the military. As it was, he’d done fine—up until the day he’d punched the lights out of a Major. That was six months ago. Hughes claimed he’d done it to break up a domestic dispute between the major and his wife. The major and his wife had a different take. The whole affair had been hushed up quickly for the sake of the assaulted man, his marriage and his reputation. Hughes found himself looking at a premature end to his military career. The General had seized the opportunity to add another man to his task force.
“Ready to head to Montana?” the General asked.
“All packed, sir.”
“And you understand your mission?” Hell, was the fucker grinning? The muscles in the General’s jaw tightened.
“Subdue your daughter, sir. Lock her up in chains of matrimony. Hand back your ranch. Proceed to enjoy the hell out of myself. Sir.”
Jesus Christ, the man was a ball-buster. The General stood up. A tall man himself, he wasn’t as tall as Hughes, and that pissed him off. “From now on you’ll speak about my daughter in terms of respect or I’ll yank you right back here and make sure you’re prosecuted to the full extent of the law for battery and assault of a ranking officer. I’ll bust you down to Private First Class and make sure you spend the rest of your career cleaning the head night and day. Lena is twice the man you’ll ever be. She’s the one who should have been a Marine. She can outthink you, outshoot you, outrun you and outclass you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, yes sir!” Logan shouted, suddenly ramrod straight, his hands by his sides.
Still fucking around, the General thought with exasperation. The man’s stance was straight out of a goddamn boot camp movie. This was exactly how Hughes got under your skin. Not with outright insubordination—but by being just irritating enough he made you lose your cool.
Which made him perfect for Lena.
The General bit back a smile. Logan thought he was so smart, but he’d met his match. The General knew that beneath all that bluster was a man who had heart. A man who tried to hide how much he cared under a thick veneer of snappy comebacks and sarcasm. After conducting an investigation of his own, the General had concluded Hughes really had believed the Major’s passionate argument with his wife was putting her life in danger.
Hughes talked a good game, but at heart he was a Boy Scout. Or maybe altar boy was a better assessment. The General’s investigation had also uncovered his very religious upbringing, his two priest brothers and what looked like a lot of guilt that he’d chosen the sword instead of the collar. Personally, he couldn’t begin to imagine Hughes exhorting a congregation to abstain from sin; he was usually too busy conducting his own sins.
“Are you capable of respect?” the General asked Hughes.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you understand that my daughter is worth three of you?”
“Hell, yeah, sir. Most women are.”
At least the bastard had the grace to look rueful. “Do you understand your role at the ranch?”
“Not in the slightest, sir. With all due respect, why not just let your daughter run the place herself if she’s such hot shit?”
“I’ve been asking myself that question,” the General snapped. “Especially when I see the alternative.”
“Sounds like she’d be fine if you left her alone, sir,” Hughes said.
Alone? Hell, no. He’d left his wife alone, and she’d died. He’d left his daughters alone with an unsuitable overseer and nearly gotten them killed, too. He was done with that. He’d make sure his girls were protected from here on in. “I don’t want her alone. I want her safe. Do I make myself clear? That’s where you come in. You’re good at protecting women, right?”
Hughes winced. “Yes, sir.” This time he wasn’t so cocky.
The General took in the man’s obvious discomfort. Hughes knew he’d messed up badly. “Look, son, your instincts are good; you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m sending you to the right place. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
For the first time, when Hughes looked at him, the General thought he caught a glimpse of the real man behind the act.
“Are you?” Hughes asked unexpectedly. “Sending me to the right place, sir?”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
The General held his gaze a long moment and was gratified to confirm what he’d hoped was true about Logan. The man did care. He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted a second chance. And just maybe he wanted a woman to love.
Hughes nodded. “I’d better get back to packing, sir. I leave within the hour.”
“Good luck. Treat my daughter well, you hear?”
“Yes, sir.” With a snappy salute, Hughes was gone.
The General sat down at his desk, opened the lower left-hand drawer and pulled out one of the letters Amelia had left for him when she passed away. She’d always been blessed with hunches and premonitions, but it wasn’t until she’d died that he learned the extent of her foresight. All these letters—pre-dated and ready for him to read—they’d gotten him through the years since she’d gone.
There were few of them left, and a low-grade dread had begun to eat away at the pit of his stomach with each letter he opened.
What would he do when he’d read them all?
The General refused to contemplate that. Instead, he pulled out the one dated today, opened it and settled in to see what Amelia had to say.
Dear Augustus,
I won’t pretend to think you’ll walk Jo down the aisle today. I wish you’d gone to her wedding—to all of our daughters’ weddings. I wish you’d been by their sides all this time. They need you. I don’t know why you can’t see that. Especially Cass—pregnant with our first grandchild! I wish I could be there to see my girl become a mother.
The General winced. How must it have felt to Amelia to know she never would? He read on.
Fate has a way of forcing you to face the things in life you don’t want to face. Your fears have a way of catching up to you no matter how far you run.
So stop running, Augustus.
Talk to the girls. Tell them how you feel. Be honest with them. No matter what’s happened, they love you.
The General doubted that. Not after all this time. Not after the way he’d abandoned them when Amelia died.
For the first time, he couldn’t pretend to himself it was his job that had kept him away. Amelia was right; other men could have filled his shoes here. He should have gone home. Raised his daughters.
Protected them himself.
I know you have doubts about the man you’re sending for Lena. I know you have doubts Lena will marry any man.
The General sighed. Amelia had known too darn much if you asked him. And she was right—Lena was so angry at him he was afraid she’d never allow a man to love her.
You’ve chosen wisely, Augustus. I see that so clearly, I hope you let it encourage you. The man you send will be the making of our daughter—and she’ll be the making of him.
He didn’t know why his throat felt suddenly thick and tight. It couldn’t be emotion. He wasn’t an emotional man.
But if she was right—
No, she had to be right. For Lena’s sake; not his. He didn’t deserve any comfort at this point.
Corporal Myers opened the door a crack and leaned in. “General? You about ready? We’ll be leaving soon.”
“In a minute.” He waved the Corporal away again.
Augustus, it’s nearly time. Neither you nor I can stop what’s coming. You need to go home—before the choice isn’t yours anymore.
Your loving wife,
Amelia
Before the choice wasn’t his? What did that mean?
“General?” Myers was still in the doorway. “Sorry, General, but we really have to leave.”
“I’m coming.” The General folded up the letter and put it away with the other opened ones, his chest constricting when he glanced at the small pile of unopened ones he had left. He had no time to decipher Amelia’s cryptic message in today’s letter.
Someday soon he’d run out of letters altogether.
He wasn’t sure how he’d stand it.