Chapter 9

Alex stood on the porch and watched Becca stride inside, Ranger trailing after her.

“What the hell was that?”

Jack shrugged.

“It had to have been Gabe.” Alex moved for the door to follow her, but Jack stepped in the way.

“Why do you say that?” he asked in a way that had Alex bristling.

“Because he’s the only one here. Becca doesn’t sit around crying for no reason.”

“Because you know her so well?”

“It’s been a few weeks. I think I’ve got a pretty good read on her. What the hell are you interrogating me for?”

“Why the hell are you accusing Gabe? You don’t know the full story, but you’re going to blame Gabe?”

“I’m going to get the full story from Gabe.”

“Look, if you wanna fuck her, do it, but stop bringing us into it.”

Alex took a step forward before he could stop himself, and when Jack smirked, it took everything Alex had not to curl his hand into a fist and land a blow right in his face.

“What are you going to do, punch me?”

“Maybe you need someone to punch you, Jack. Your shit attitude is getting old. We all got messed up in that accident—not just you. We all lost a friend—not just you. And I’m real sorry your personal life was sucking so hard, but it’s been a lot more than a year since that shit with your fiancée went down, so maybe you could stop taking it out on everyone around you.”

Jack stood there, no longer smirking. He looked grim and blank, and Alex hated he’d spewed all that at him. They didn’t need this. Fighting and accusing. They needed to focus on the future.

But, damn, if Jack didn’t need someone to shut him the hell up.

The door swung open, and Gabe stepped out. “Oh, are we having a Jack intervention? Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I was defending you, asshole. So Alex decided to pick on me.”

“I’m not picking on anyone. I wanted to know why Becca was crying. Everything I said to you was spot-on and you know it.”

“Shit,” Gabe muttered, but his jaw firmed and he looked out over the dark night around them.

“You did something to her then,” Alex demanded.

Gabe’s gaze, surprisingly cold, landed on Alex. “You two seem to be real concerned about each other. Do us all a favor—talk to each other instead of me.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means Becca was real worried that she caught you having a nightmare. I told her to mind her own business, because this is our deal.”

Alex tensed. He hadn’t expected Becca to tell anyone. He’d been certain she would respect his wishes to keep that to herself. But she’d confided in Gabe? He was already pissed, but that…well, that fucking grated.

“Yeah, not so quick to jump to her defense anymore.”

“She’s an innocent bystander in all this,” Alex forced himself to say, though he didn’t quite feel it. Innocent bystanders didn’t go poking their noses where they didn’t belong. “I’m sure she thought she was doing the right thing.”

“Of course she did, but she had no business going behind your back. That isn’t loyalty.”

Which was when Alex finally got where this was coming from. He didn’t know a lot about Gabe’s family, but he knew Gabe was estranged from them, and he felt betrayed by it. So much so that loyalty had always been Gabe’s rallying cry. You didn’t tell a guy’s secrets.

So whatever Gabe had said to hurt Becca’s feelings, it had been in defense of Alex himself. Christ, this was getting complicated.

“We’re all in this together,” he said, using his best officer’s tone, no matter how tired he felt. “I don’t have a problem with you setting Becca straight, but she… Come on, man. She’s sheltered and naive. You don’t have to go at her like a soldier.”

“Not your call.”

It took every ounce of control Alex had honed as a Navy SEAL to keep from shouting at Gabe. To keep from saying it damn well was his call if his men were making an innocent woman cry.

He might not agree with Becca nosing around, telling Gabe things, but he’d learned a lesson—keep his shit together and in his room, and things would be fine. They would be fine.

“It doesn’t serve any purpose for all of us to be at odds,” Alex said as calmly as he could manage. Both Gabe and Jack snorted and grumbled in a way they never would have if they were still deployed.

But they weren’t deployed anymore. They weren’t active SEALs anymore. They were…here for a reason and a purpose, damn it, and Gabe’s surprisingly hard-ass line with Becca and Jack’s consistent bad attitude was not going to get in the way of that. Alex wouldn’t allow it.

“She may have crossed a line, but we have a purpose here. Maybe it takes a little while for Becca to understand we’ve got our own shit under control. Losing it on her doesn’t help your case.”

“My case? My case?” Gabe laughed, but it was bitter, one of those rare flashes of the temper Gabe kept buried very deep. “I wasn’t helping anyone’s case, least of all my own. You stand there and insist to everyone, including yourself, that you’re fine. Everything is great and we’re not scarred and fucking damaged. I told her to mind her business. I didn’t tell her we were fine, because I’m not a liar.”

“I am fi—”

Gabe stepped forward, jaw clenched, dark eyes glittering with something Alex didn’t want to identify. “We’re not fine, Alex. You want to pretend. And you…you want to be pissed about it,” he said, flinging his arm toward Jack. “But I know I am not okay, and I know I never will be, so I don’t see much point in denying it. It just is. We’re not going to fix shit here. Geiger is dead. We don’t fix that. All this does is give us something to do so we don’t turn into nothing.”

Alex had arguments for that, but he couldn’t seem to get them out of his mouth. He kept opening it, trying to force them out, but his throat was tight and completely uncooperative.

“I like the girl, I do, but I’m not going to pretend like it’s okay when she steps over the line. She might be our partner, but she isn’t a brother. Her blabbing your business to me proves that, and I will not stand by and accept it.”

“You will treat her with some respect. She didn’t do anything not to deserve that.”

Gabe shook his head. “You’re not in charge anymore, Alex. This is civilian life, and you don’t get to throw orders at me. And you’re sure as hell not responsible for any of us—including her. So stop. Just stop.”

Alex swallowed. Stop? What might happen if he did that? Who might get hurt? What lives might be screwed up if he stopped trying to make things right?

“He’s right,” Jack said, his voice quiet and lacking its usual edge. “You’re not the officer anymore. Not the leader. You’ve got to give it up.”

“No, I’m not the leader, but we’re in this together. And there’s nothing to give up. We know exactly what we’re going to do.”

“No, Alex. You know exactly what you’re going to do. I don’t have the first fucking clue what I’m doing here.” Gabe shoved his hands through his hair. “Look, I believe in it. I get it. And I want this. I want to do something that helps guys who’ve been through shit, but I’m not the same as you. This doesn’t always make sense, and I don’t always know exactly where I’m going.”

“And we don’t all need to,” Jack added.

“You have to step back from this idea that you can fix us,” Gabe continued. “That it’s your job to fix us. Us. Quite frankly, maybe you ought to worry about fixing your damn self first.”

Panic was clawing at Alex’s chest and his throat was still tight and everything about this was wrong. Gabe was purposefully poking where it would hurt, and Alex needed to neutralize the situation. He just didn’t know how.

“We’re all here for a reason,” Jack said, grave and hard. “Gabe’s right. You gotta let us do our own shit. But Alex is right too. Becca’s got nothing to do with this. She’s an easy target, and we shouldn’t be hitting it. I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been wrong in that department. I think we need to start over there. Make a pact. Whatever shit we’ve got going on, we don’t get her mixed up in it. Agreed?”

It was a sharp pang to realize that if Jack had been afforded a few more years as a SEAL, he would’ve made an excellent officer and leader himself. He could’ve led missions and saved lives, but here they all were.

In the middle of Montana, learning about riding horses and driving cattle. Trying to put together a nonprofit.

And fucking up right and left.

“All right. I’ll ease off.” As much as was reasonable. “And we’ll all agree that Becca is…” There were quite a few words he could think of, but none of them were appropriate for this conversation.

“We’ll think of her like a partner and like a sister. Someone to protect. Right?”

Alex knew he had to agree with Jack’s suggestion. Hell, Becca had been his stepsister for ten years even though he hadn’t really had anything to do with the family for most of that time. But still, he should agree. Why was that just so damn hard?

Gabe laughed, and it wasn’t that bitter angry thing from before. This was the usual cheerful, easygoing Gabe.

“Give him a break, Jack. It’s hard to treat someone like a sister when you want to get her into bed.”

Everything inside of Alex tensed. “I do not.”

Gabe just grinned. “Your nickname in the SEALs may have been ‘Dad,’ but here in Montana it should be ‘Denial.’”

“Can we get some fucking sleep before we have to get up and shovel cow crap tomorrow?” Jack muttered.

“I don’t want to sleep with her,” Alex said with as much unemotional conviction as possible.

Gabe and Jack exchanged a look that clearly said they did not believe him.

“I don’t,” he repeated. Because he did not. If he had ever noticed her…attractiveness, that was not the same as wanting to sleep with her.

“Guess you’ll have to prove it,” Gabe offered as he and Jack opened the door and walked inside.

Alex looked down at Star, who panted happily up at him, the tension of the argument having not affected him at all.

“Oh, I’ll damn well prove it.”

* * *

The trouble with crying herself to sleep was waking up feeling like her eyes were sandpaper and her head was stuffed with cotton.

But Becca had gotten the crying out of her system, and today was a brand-new day. She tried to find some strength in that as she walked downstairs to make the coffee.

But Gabe had beat her to it and was standing there stirring something into her mug. She thought briefly about not going into the kitchen, about scurrying back to her room so she didn’t have to face this.

But that would be cowardly, and she hadn’t been wrong. So she steeled her courage and stepped forward. “Morning, Gabe.”

“Hey.” He nudged a full mug of coffee down the counter. “Doctored up just the way you like.”

Becca stared at the mug suspiciously.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I was more worried that you put salt instead of sugar, but sure, poison too.”

Gabe chuckled, but any amusement quickly died. In fact, everything about him kind of changed. His posture straightened and his expression was grim. She figured this was what soldier Gabe looked like. None of the easy smiles or big laughs. Serious, ramrod-straight stillness.

It made her more than a little nervous, but his dark gaze met hers head-on. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you last night,” he said, his voice clipped.

“Oh.” Becca didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t…have a lot of people apologizing to her. What was the gracious way to accept one?

“It was out of line, and I promise that while I may disagree with you in the future, I will not speak to you as harshly as I did. It was unacceptable, and it won’t happen again.”

“Aren’t you supposed to call me ‘sir’ when you talk in that military monotone?” Which wasn’t what she should have said. It just tumbled out because she didn’t know how to respond to this in any of them. The way they adopted these blank, rote ways of talking.

Gabe smiled. A real smile. “You’re a trip, Bec,” he said, shaking his head. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re good for this thing we’re trying to build. We need someone like you, even when we push against it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

The front door creaked open and Jack poked his head in. “Um, Becca,” he called. “There is a goat on the porch roof.”

“Damn it, Ron Swanson.” She looked longingly at her mug of coffee and then resigned herself to reheating it later. She headed for the front door. Ron hadn’t gotten up on the roof in a while, but whenever he did, getting him down was quite the production.

She tried to hide a smile, imagining the guys’ reactions, but it was nearly impossible as she shoved her feet into her boots and pulled on her coat.

“What are you grinning at?” Jack asked.

“You’ll see.” She followed him out the front door and down the porch steps. Alex was standing in the middle of the front yard scowling up at the roof, and Jack joined him with his arms crossed over his chest.

Becca turned around and glanced up at the goat on the porch roof. “Ron Swanson, get down here right this instant,” she said, clapping her hands together.

The goat merely bleated at her.

“One of you, go grab Rasputin.”

“Ras…who the fuck is Rasputin?” Jack returned.

“The rooster. He’s the only one Ron will listen to.”

“Listen to? He’s a goat. It’s a chicken. Is this a waking dream?” Alex said, his puzzled and slightly horrified gaze never leaving Ron.

“Try waking nightmare,” Jack returned.

“Fine, I’ll get Rasputin. You two stay put and make sure he doesn’t start eating the gutters.”

“How do we do that?” she heard Jack ask as she walked quickly to the chicken coop. But she didn’t have time to explain. She took her gloves out of her pocket and pulled them on, as Rasputin probably wouldn’t be too keen on being grabbed.

He was the only one left after Becca had finally given up the fight against the coyotes. Becca had no idea how Rasputin managed to stay alive, but she liked that inexplicable part of his story. It made impossible things seem possible.

She cooed softly to Rasputin as she entered the coop. He flapped around, trying to avoid her, but she eventually cornered him and managed to grab him, holding her arm around the rooster to avoid as much of his pecking and clawing as she could.

She marched back toward the house. Gabe had joined Alex and Jack and all three men were staring helplessly at the goat on the roof.

“I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit, Becca,” Gabe said as she walked up holding the rooster. “But you officially win.”

Becca smiled but turned her attention the goat. “Ron Swanson. Look who I’ve got.” She held up Rasputin, who flapped his wings until she let him go. He squawked and crowed and Ron bleated in return.

“What the fuck is happening?” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Just wait,” Becca said as Ron started to pace the edge of the porch roof. Rasputin crowed again, starting to strut back toward the coop. Which was when Ron clattered down the slope of the roof and jumped the distance to the ground.

“That did not just happen,” Gabe said, something like awe in his voice.

“Afraid it did,” Becca returned cheerfully, walking toward the animals, who were now circling each other. She had to separate them before Rasputin took a chunk out of Ron.

“Need…help?” Alex offered, clearly hoping the answer was no.

Becca lunged and came up with Rasputin. “Nope. I’m good. Just have to put him back in his coop. Ron can wander a bit. He’s never gotten up on the roof twice in the same day before.”

She heard all the guys muttering, but she ignored them and walked toward the coop.

It wasn’t such a bad way to start the day, all in all. A little animal shenanigans to get the blood pumping, and it never failed to make her laugh when three Navy SEALs looked dumbfounded.

She placed Rasputin in the coop, then exited, locking up behind her. She should probably get Ron in his pen, but she knew he was restless after a winter of not being able to roam very much. Becca turned.

Alex was there, standing outside the coop as though he was waiting for her. He looked so serious her stomach fluttered with nerves.

“Why…why is the rooster named Rasputin?” he asked eventually, knocking any nervousness right out of her.

She grinned. “Well, I was just calling him Rooster at first, because Burt told me to stop naming the chickens since they just kept getting eaten by coyotes. But one day Rasputin got himself in a tizzy and flew into the pond and just kind of sank. So, you know, we figured he was dead. But, weirdest thing, next day he was back crowing up a storm. So, Rasputin.”

Alex started laughing. A real, booming laugh she’d never heard out of him, and it didn’t stop. He kept laughing until she was laughing right along with him.

He scrubbed his hands over his face as his laughter dissipated. “Well, that isn’t how I expected to spend my morning.”

“I hate when that goat gets in the way of drinking my coffee.”

He chuckled again, and for the first time in all the time she’d known him, that smile stayed in place. It didn’t melt into that military stoicism, and that warmed something inside of her she was afraid to analyze too closely.

“Well, let’s go get that coffee, huh?” And he did the strangest thing. He slung his arm over her shoulders. Like they were friends or something.

Maybe if she felt nothing but friendly, it would have been easy to accept, but his body was warm and close and very clearly masculine. Just big and hard and…

She was a little afraid the squeaking noise she tried to swallow came out anyway since Alex tensed and started to draw his arm away.

“I came up with a name,” she blurted, hoping somehow that would keep his arm on her shoulders. “For the foundation.”

He paused, but his arm still left her shoulders. He stood next to her, slowly turning that dark gaze to hers. “Yeah?”

“I mean, obviously if you guys don’t like it, we don’t have to go with it, but since you didn’t want to use any words like center or rehabilitation or whatever, I thought we’d stick with ranch. Revival Ranch.”

He stared at her silently for the longest time. So long she couldn’t keep holding her breath like she wanted to. “We can… We don’t have to—”

“I like it,” he said, all traces of that smile and levity gone.

This was Alex Maguire, Navy SEAL, and while she respected this man a lot, she missed that little glimmer of what was underneath.

She tried to force a smile, but she knew she failed. What would it take to unlock this armor he’d wrapped around himself? Something probably far more than a silly girl with goats on roofs and roosters named Rasputin.

“I’ll ask the guys what they think,” he said, walking back toward the house.

“Sure,” Becca said softly, trudging after him.