Chapter 1
SPECIAL ENFORCEMENT AGENT Nixon Cade stared at the screen as he and his tactical force team, Ghost Hawks, hovered in front of the monitors, watching as the suspect they’d been following for over a year joined a group of known terrorists in front of a closed deli in downtown Cheyenne. They greeted each other with handshakes and quick bows, all smiling and blending in. If Nix didn’t know any better he’d see these six men like any other group of buddies meeting to kick back, chat about football, women, and career choices over a hoagie and a beer. This group wasn’t run-of-the-mill though, far from it. They were dangerous and known for using explosives in soft target locations throughout Wyoming over the last few years.
Nix had only joined the elite team four months ago, but since then he’d read the two-inch-thick case file on the terrorists front to back and memorized every word, every dotted i, every face of every person involved, no matter how small or how big. That’s how much dedication and drive he gave to every case and now, as a part of the Ghost Hawks, he could take on the grimmest cases.
The team had received a tip from an informant that the suspect met with a group at the deli once a month. During their seemingly innocent lunches over turkey and cheese, they made airtight plans to kill innocent people in the name of their god.
Their suspect looked over his shoulder and his face flashed across the camera. “Yeah, that’s definitely him.” Even with the ballcap pulled low shading his eyes, his broad nose and the long scar from brow to cheek couldn’t be mistaken. “Bingo.”
“Do you think they have any clue they’re being watched?” asked Jameson, one of the senior agents on the team who had served a remarkable career in the Navy SEALs that was riddled with awards and distinguished honors.
“I don’t give a screwed-up fuck as long as we catch his scrawny ass and toss him away to die behind bars.” Riddle was as large as a house and as bad ass as a pissed off bear. He wore his hair closely-shaven and his beard thick. His grey-blue eyes were like lasers and his fists like hammers. Those attributes, as well as his tattooed covered arms, tended to scare the bad guys. He barely needed to use his gun to get criminals to see his way of thinking. He had the best record in getting people to talk and was celebrated for taking down three of the FBI’s most wanted. Each of the men brought a skill to the team and were chosen for such credentials. Nix was distinguished for his sharp shooting skills and sniffing out criminals where there were no leads.
The parked van where they were huddled was sitting down the street from the deli. They awaited the perfect moment to surprise their suspect and his group of assailants. One could cut the tension in the air with a knife as the Hawks anticipated bringing the wanted men down—to destroy part of a sleeper cell that had been leaving a destructive wave. Last month the suspect and two members of the group had set off a dirty bomb in a bus station that killed ten men, women, and children. As far as Nix was concerned, Wyoming wasn’t a normal target for terrorists because of the vast land to population ratio, but still, here they were and it was time the bastards’ reign of terror came to an end. The Hawks were the men to accomplish that goal. They were the ones who took on assignments that Homeland Security, the FBI and local law enforcement needed help with.
Up until this point, the suspect had thwarted every attempt of capture, but today, thanks to an undercover agent, Grayson “Gray” Carlisle, who’d infiltrated the cell, the bad men would be taking their last breath of freedom. They had enough evidence to put them away for a very long time.
With the use of a hidden pen camera in Gray’s shirt, the team watched the group of men move inside the small deli. “Now all be good little terrorists and have a seat, get comfy and talk,” Nix muttered. His adrenaline was rushing, and he itched to catch the criminals.
“Fuckers look so smug after they’ve killed so many innocents,” Nate “Cowboy” Cruise growled. He got his nickname because he always wore a Stetson, wide silver belt buckle, and dusty boots.
“The moron is ours, boys. I can’t wait to see his face when we show up.” Briggs laughed. He was the youngest of the group and always wore a smile. He could look at a woman and make her swoon with his model good looks—and he enjoyed that capability by using it often. The ladies might be a little scared if they knew he could kill a man with his bare hands. His greatest skill was hand-to-hand combat.
Nix eased back into the uncomfortable, too-small chair. “Actually, our suspect isn’t a moron. He’s intelligent and clever. Let’s not forget that he’s evaded capture six times over the last year and is extremely dangerous. If he slips through our fingers, he’ll be back at blowing up churches, bus stations, and airports tomorrow, and he’ll think he got one over on us again. The cocky son-of-a-bitch needs to be handled carefully.”
Jameson nodded. “Cade’s right, boys. Getting cocky isn’t in the ingredients of catching this asshole. We can’t falsely believe this group will go down without a fight. Although we can’t see them, they’re all packing and not afraid to use their weapons, especially on lawmen. In their eyes, killing one of us is a golden seat on the airplane to heaven. Let’s not give any of them the satisfaction.” Jameson tightened his bulletproof vest that padded his large chest. “It’s now or never, Hawkss. Chin up. Shoulders back. Let’s roll.”
One by one, they slinked out of the back of the van, staying low and hidden from the large window of the deli. With a signal from Jameson, they separated, moving like a well-oiled machine, slinking along the building, and took their positions. The plan was to move in quietly. Damage-control and keeping the death toll to a minimum was required, exactly what the government appreciated. Each suspect killed was one less avenue in getting one of the terrorists to talk and gain valuable information in catching another terrorist.
Jameson gave the nod and Nix signaled to the men behind him.
The thunderflash was thrown through the window. Shouts, followed by gun shots, rang off inside. Each planned step, each strategic action was followed…
Three hours later, Nix strolled into the building of the Hawks’ office. The team was jovial, sharing gruff compliments because the assignment had gone down without a hitch. The terrorists were all taken alive and headed for interrogation. Gray was safe and being debriefed. The Hawks were proud that they’d completed another mission. Now it was up to the next team to get as much knowledge, useful information, and names of other terrorists from the captured before being convicted and sentenced.
Nix hung back and stepped up to the desk of the secretary, Claire. She was in her thirties, had shoulder-length, curly hair and wore thick glasses that she pushed up her nose every few minutes. Her cubicle was scattered with pictures of her cats, and although Nix didn’t know her very well, he did know every cute name of her animals.
“Hi, Claire,” he said as he approached. When she saw him, she jerked and knocked over a file, scattering papers all over the floor. She was her usual jumpy-self. Some of the men had teased Nix in the past saying Claire had a crush on him, but he believed she was just socially awkward. Her cheeks turned red and she bent to her knees, grabbing the papers in haphazard fashion and shoving them back into the file. Picking up a paper that had landed at his feet, he handed it over. She took the offering without meeting his gaze and hurried back to her chair. “I’m sorry. Did I surprise you?” he asked once she was settled.
Claire cleared her throat, uncomfortably shifted, and tugged down the hem of her skirt. “No, no. I was just working on a few things. I hear the bust went without a snag.” There she went, pushing those too-big glasses up her nose again. Nix wasn’t sure if they were loose or if it was just a nervous habit. He had a yearning to ask if he could help by tightening them for her, but he was afraid she’d take his offer as rude. He liked her, even if she did seem timid when he was around.
“I’ve noticed there are cameras set up around the office, but I was told they are disabled.” Working in the biz of putting away criminals for over ten years now, Nix understood the need for security even when it seemed unnecessary. He’d just installed a superior system at his cabin.
“Not disabled.” She moistened her lips and glanced up at him. “They’re not working.”
“When you get a chance, can you call in a repair service? We can’t be too careful.” He smiled and the red flush that had been in her cheeks creeped into her neck. He almost felt guilty for making her so uncomfortable.
“Will do, Mr. Cade.” She knocked over the pencil holder. “Oh, I mean Nix. Just as you requested.”
“Thank you.” Not wanting to prolong her misery, he headed down the hall to the room of common offices. The men all occupied their desks, piping down some after their victory, and Nix dropped into the chair behind his own desk, pulled out his key and unlocked the bottom drawer. Taking his weapon out of its holster, he clicked on the safety and secured it, pushing the drawer closed with his dusty boot.
Clicking on the computer, he typed in his password and stared at the screen. Now that his adrenaline was coming down from the clouds, his mind wandered. His thoughts were stuck on a woman he’d met months ago when he’d first moved to Devil’s Bluff. They’d made love and the next morning she was gone, without a word. The unmarrying type, Nix had never complained when a woman decided to disappear at sunrise, but Melissia Easton had affected him enough that he’d hoped they could have breakfast, and maybe a repeat of wild, passionate sex.
That didn’t happen.
He should let the mystery woman go and chalk their rendezvous up to a one-time event that he would remember fondly. He should concentrate on work. Considering he was new with the team, he wanted to keep his nose to the grindstone, feeling like he had something to prove. He’d been brought in to join the elite team to stop the widespread criminal activity of terrorism, the sale and distribution of controlled substances, prostitution, child pornography, and organized crime in Wyoming. The Hawks got the worst of the worst cases.
“Copy machine isn’t working again,” Jamison growled and punched a button on the speaker on his desk. “Claire, when you get a chance could I get you to copy some paperwork for me?”
“Nothing new. We get the leftover funding,” Gabel “Abel” Stone said as he reached for his stress ball, squeezing it in his beefy fist. “I still can’t believe I missed out today. I wanted to get my hands on a few sum’bitches,” he snarled.
“There’s always a next time,” Nix said.
Claire came hurrying in. “Anyone else need anything while I’m out making copies?”
“With the chance of sounding like an ass for asking you to grab coffee—”
She waved a hand to dismiss Abel. “I don’t mind. I enjoy doing errands.” She met Nix’s gaze. “Can I get you something? I know you like an espresso with two pumps of cream and one sugar.”
Now how the hell did she know that? Nix blinked. “Are you and the barista in cahoots?” he teased, but when she gave her head a hard shake sending her glasses off her nose and onto the floor, he wanted to kick himself in the ass.
“I-I was in…” she hurried and grabbed her glasses from the floor and placed them back on her face, “in the coffee shop yesterday morning when you ordered. I know what everyone wants. I’ll be back.” She turned and started for the door.
“Wait, Claire,” Jamison said.
The woman swiveled on her squeaky shoes looking like a swift wind could knock her over. “Yes?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He held up the papers that needed copied.
“Oh, yes. Mercy me. Sorry. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.” She took the papers from him and disappeared out the door.
“Oh, wow. She’s got it bad,” Abel said.
“Why don’t you put the poor woman out of her misery and ask her on a date?” Riddle’s question was aimed at Nix.
“I don’t think that’s the answer, man. She just needs some getting used to me,” Nix added.
“Certainly can’t fire her. She’s the only one who knows the ins and outs of this operation,” Jamison said. “Ain’t like Carson would anyway. She’s been around since this team was formed.”
Sitting back in his chair, Nix adjusted the screen of his laptop and looked over the top at a few men who were busily chatting about something else now. He dragged himself away from the conversation because he had better interests. He knew very little about the pretty redhead, Melissia, outside of the fact that she liked dancing after kicking back a shot of tequila. He grinned at the vision of her on the dance floor. Her long, damp hair whipping about her flushed cheeks, the hem of her short skirt lashing about her firm thighs and the lavish scent of her that lingered in his nostrils and on his skin. He’d taken lots of showers, but there were just some aromas and tastes a man couldn’t forget—not that he wanted to. She’d been as tasty as a ripe peach dripping with sweet juices.
His body seized with an emotion he couldn’t describe with words. He shifted, attempting to ease the tension in his groin, but ended up making the situation worse. Up until now, he’d been able to resist the temptation of finding her at his fingertips, but after the erotic dream he’d had last night, he’d been a basket case. He could easily run a background check, but why bother when he could find what he needed online. Pulling up a new tab, he typed in her name, hoping she’d given him her real one, and a picture of her came up next to the headline, “Reality star breaks up with minor league phenomenon Brad Santiago.” The next story read, “Secret photos of sexy redhead’s beach vacation.” And another, “Melissia Easton has a million followers on Facebook”.
Nix swallowed the baseball sized ache in his throat as the words “Reality star” rolled through his brain. What the hell? Although they hadn’t done a lot of talking, not once had she mentioned that she was a “reality star”. He certainly wouldn’t have recognized her one way or the other because the last time he watched TV had been a DVR of a basketball game that was months ago. Working with Hawks, helping his dad on the family ranch, and moving to a new place recently had left little extra time for him.
Scrolling down, and just from the captions, he realized the woman who’d tempted him with her pale blue eyes and heart-warming smile had been in a relationship with the next up-and-coming baseball great, Santiago. From Nix’s standpoint, the thirty-something athlete was too cocky and had a weak wrist.
Pushing a hand a little too roughly through his hair, Nix shook his head, wanting to resist clicking on a picture of her, but he moved and “accidently” hit a button. On his screen, staring back at him, was the beauty herself from a photo dated five years ago. Her hair was at least six inches shorter then and she wore a little more make up, but all in all, the stars in her eyes and the scattering of freckles remained. Clicking the mouse, up came another picture, this time she was on the beach in a teeny-tiny bikini, dipping a toe in at the ocean’s edge.
The temperature rose.
The next frame she was on a fancy yacht with a man, “a friend” from what the caption read. Her top was off and her beautiful breasts were exposed. She was completely unaware that she was being photographed—or was she? The thought of her being violated by some slimy photographer made Nix sick. He clicked off the picture and onto another. She was wearing a white Stetson, thin tank top and cut off jean shorts that rode up high on her hips. He had a thing for cowgirls. He’d been so engulfed, both in her beauty and the shadows of her nipples under the cotton that he hadn’t heard the footsteps behind him.
“Hot.”
His attention was dragged from the screen in a rude awakening and Nix clicked off, looking up at Crow Reese, one of his closest friend on the team. “What did you say?”
“The clues are hot on this case of the predator who had all the videos of the young girls. What did you think I said?” Crow was the largest of the bunch by height and weight. He had eyes that were so dark they were almost as black as his hair, hinting at his Native American roots. Nix was learning quickly that the man’s large frame didn’t mean he couldn’t move as fast as lightning, which he attributed to years of training as a boxer. Right after Nix joined, they’d been sent to bring in a member of the Irish mob who was wanted for tossing a bomb into a café that had exploded and when the suspect took off running, Crow chased him down, catching the younger, athletic man like it was easy work.
Nix shrugged. “Exactly what I thought you said.” His phone chimed. He looked down at the number on the screen, not recognizing the out of state area code.
“You going to answer that, man?” Crow asked, leaning over a few inches to try and catch a peek at the phone.
“Nah.” He clicked a button, which sent the call straight to voicemail.
Jamison stood and joined Nix and Crow. “I just found a rat and I’m about to catch it.” Jamison was quiet and reserved, and when he spoke, a person listened and knew the man had thought over his words carefully. He had not one ounce of fat on his body although he didn’t work out every day to maintain his toned physique, but instead spent a lot of time time with his daughter during his free time. Although Nix hadn’t known the entire team before he signed on, he trusted them to watch his back and he certainly hoped they trusted him as well. A man was only as good as his team.
“A rat as in our latest suspect who’s neck-deep in drug trafficking?” Crow asked.
“The very one. I’m heading out. You coming along?” The two had been working on a case that involved dealing a few counties over and several kids got ahold of his mix and died. Crow had often said that Jamison became crazed over the cases that involved kids because he worried about his own daughter.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” Crow looked at Nix. “Are we still on for tonight at Lori’s?” Lori’s was a local honky tonk where the gang got together to relieve some tension and stress. That’s where he’d met Melissia. There was always the chance he could accidentally-intentionally run into her again, but from what he’d read, she lived in Boston. That stunk. She was probably back home or on some rich man’s yacht.
“I plan on it,” Nix answered, hearing another chime on his phone that alerted him to a voice message.
Once the two men left, Nix clicked accept and pushed speaker.
“Hi, Nix. I don’t know if you remember me. It’s Melissia Easton. We…uhh…well, we spent the night together—”.
He slammed the speaker on the phone so fast that it popped up and landed on the floor at strappy sandals. He followed thin legs up to a frowning Claire who held a cup out.
Recovering, he plastered a smile on his face. “Is that mine?”
“Yes.”
At the same time that he reached out to take the coffee, she was handing it to him and their hands collided, knocking the cup out of her hand and spilling the hot liquid onto his lap. He jumped up, let out a few choice curse words and hoped there was no permanent damage to sensitive body parts.
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh,” Claire repeated like a broken record.
Pushing past the pain on his skin, he patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. Really. It’s okay.” He picked up the cup and shook it. “See, the other half that didn’t spill on me is in here. Thank you.” He took a sip to prove his point but burnt his tongue. “Mother fu—” Seeing her wide-eyed glare, he bit off his expletive and put the cup down.
“I better get back to work.” She raced for the outer office.
Oh shit!
He looked down at his lap and sighed. It was too dark to look like he’d pissed his pants and he guessed that was a silver lining. At least it didn’t get his phone…but then he saw the device…
Oh shit!
He grabbed his cell and gritted his teeth as he watched coffee drip off the corner. He grabbed the first thing he came to which happened to be a T-shirt he was given from a charity and dried his phone.
Across the room he caught Riddle’s smile. “So, I guess the chances of you asking her out are even slimmer now?”
Nix tossed his wet T-shirt at Riddle’s head who expertly dodged it.
Making sure the speaker was turned off, he hit the button to start Melissia’s message from the beginning…
“You programmed your number into my phone while we were at the bar. I’m back in town and I thought maybe we could sit down over a cup of coffee. I have a…,” there was a slight hesitation, “problem of sorts to handle, but if you’re interested call me back.”
Nix’s heart slammed against his ribcage. It was her, the woman who’d been in his every dream, and almost every thought, since they’d parted ways. He started to hit ‘call back’, but he stopped. Hell, maybe he needed to think this over a little better. No impulsive decision ever came without repercussions. They’d had a good time—no, an incredible time—but if they got together, there was a good chance they’d have sex again and she’d leave. She lived in Boston, and according to the internet, she was some reality star who liked dating playboys. Nix lived in the mountains of Wyoming and was married to his career, barely having time to visit his family every Sunday for dinner let alone spend quality time with a woman. How could he invest any more time with someone who lived miles away?
So, he sat his phone down just as the speaker on his desk buzzed. Nix hit a button and Gage Carson’s voice came over the speaker. “Cade? Can you come into my office?”
“Right away, sir,” Nix responded. It wasn’t every day a man got to say that he worked for his hero, and Carson was the bravest that had come along. Awarded the Medal of Honor for saving the most men and women in his career in uniform, Carson was now determined to fight crime on his own soil, and why the Hawks were relied upon. He was a force to be reckoned with, a leader and fair man. Nix hadn’t expected to meet with him today, but he was interested in what his boss had in store. Maybe a new case to tackle? Or congratulations on a job well done today?
Pushing back his chair, he got up and followed the narrow hallway to Carson’s office and knocked. “Come in,” he called from inside.
Opening the door, Nix found his boss seated behind the large, cherry wood desk. He was gray-haired with wrinkles surrounding his eyes and mouth, but he was virile and had large hands that were now pressed flat on the top of the desk. “Cade!” His booming voice gave a glimpse into the man’s authority. “How are things coming along? You know you’re considered family here, son.”
Nix swallowed. Family. He liked that word. Having a large, close family he liked the thought that the men he worked with were more like brothers than co-workers. He’d learned both while in the military and years of working in law enforcement that it was important to give all trust to those around him who had a part in watching his back and possibly would save his life in the future. This was a big reason why he’d accepted the position with Hawks. Upon meeting the team, he’d felt an instant brotherhood among them. And it helped that Gage Carson, a hero among men, had handpicked Nix to come onto the team. That certainly did inflate his ego. “Things are going great, sir.”
“My men have great things to say about you. So far, so good,” Carson sat back in his chair, clasping his long, wide fingers.
Nix shrugged. “It’s easy to do a great job when working with an elite team, sir,” he admitted.
“Have a seat. And cut the sir. Remember, we’re family.” He smiled. “Did you know that your father and I were in the Navy together? Still friends after all these years.”
Nix took a seat in the wide cushioned chair. “He did tell me, si—I mean, Carson. He’s told me stories of days back when you were both on the ship.”
“You can’t believe everything he says.” His eyes twinkled.
“It’s only been good.”
“Those were the days. I learned a lot of respect for your father and it means a lot to me that you’re here, on my team. This is dangerous work and we need good, competent men.”
“I’m grateful to be here,” Nix felt a wash of confidence. He’d always wanted to land a position where he could make a change. He’d dreamt about it.
“The assignment I have for you next is one of…discreet importance.” Carson’s jaw tightened slightly. “I need a man I can trust completely. One I know will get the job done with utmost care and concern.”
“Yes, sir. I’m the man.” Nix sat up straight.
Carson unclasped his hands and grasped the edge of the desk. “I have confidence that you most certainly are. Do you think you can handle an assignment that’s not your mainstream, boring case?”
“I can think outside the box,” Nix assured him. “Although I don’t think any of the cases here could be considered boring.”
The man nodded. “Good, then you’re exactly the man to protect my daughter.”
Nix absorbed his boss’s words and blinked. “Excuse me, sir?” He must have heard wrong.
Carson’s direct gaze held Nix’s. “My daughter, Melly, she’s in a bit of a predicament. You see, she’s quite stubborn and when it comes to issues of a father and daughter nature, she tells me weekly that I need to stay out of her business. Do you have kids, Cade?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Once you do, you’ll understand why a parent can’t just step aside when their child, their only child, is in danger.”
“Danger?” He certainly hoped there was more to this assignment than a girl who needed a bodyguard. Nix didn’t like to think he’d left his job as lead detective to work as Carson’s personal go-to.
“Melly was in the public eye for several years, and anyone in the spotlight can find themselves the target of the nutjobs of the world. Friends who aren’t really friends. Getting into trouble. You name it. Even a sour relationship or two.”
“We all have those, don’t we?”
“I guess we do. Although Melly tells me to not worry and that she has things covered, I beg to differ. She’s not shown me that she’s focused on a path. Melly is all that I have. All the horror stories that I’ve investigated, and you know what I’m talking about, have made me somewhat paranoid...okay, a lot, but like any father I want my daughter to find her path, but she hates for me to lecture.”
“How old is your daughter?”
“Thirty.”
“Oh.” Nix slumped his shoulders.
“I know what you’re thinking. I’m being the nosey parent. I have my reasons for concern. For example, recently she received letters from some lunatic who had been stalking her.”
Nix leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, wrapping his brain around what was being asked of him. “Are you asking me to find the person behind the letters?” He stifled a grin. This was a win-win situation. He’d solve the case, probably within twenty-four hours as well as getting into the good graces of Carson. Piece of cake.
“No. He was caught.” Carson tapped his fingers on the desk. “What I want is for you to watch my daughter. Keep track of what she’s doing. Who she’s seeing. If there’s anything I need to concern myself with.”
Slumping his shoulders, Nix sighed. “Uh, sir, it sounds like you’re asking me to spy on your daughter. Am I understanding—”
“Yes.”
“But, sir…I’m not a PI.”
“And I’m not asking for a private investigator’s services.”
Nix cleared his throat. “Am I missing something?” He swiped a hand down his cheek.
“As I said, Melly is stubborn and refuses to tell me anything. She’s always ignored any trouble. Just like her last boyfriend. I saw right through him, but she had blinders on. He wasn’t any readier for a relationship than she was at the time. I’m still not convinced that she won’t allow the man back into her life. She’d do it just to spite me.”
“Why?”
“Follow along. To teach me a lesson. This is where you come in.”
“Yes, but like you said, your daughter doesn’t wish to have you involved in her personal life. If she doesn’t want you involved, I’m pretty sure she’ll tell me to fu—” He cleared his throat. “To back off.”
“I have that covered, son. The secret to convincing a stubborn woman of something is to use leverage.”
“I just—”
“I know you might feel this is below your abilities, but I assure you I wouldn’t ask just anyone to help when it comes to my precious gift. My daughter. In fact, you might be the only one for the job.”
“Well, I was expecting something a bit more…well, more geared toward criminals,” Nix admitted.
“No worries, son. It’s not always criminals who need a hero.”
Nix opened his mouth but completely lost his train of thought. A part of him could see this was a gift in it of itself. Knowing what he did know about Carson, he didn’t trust a lot of people. He had other men on the team he could have gone to for help, but he asked Nix. Yet, as indulgent as this was, the downfall was the chance of letting Carson down. Way down. From Nix’s experience, which could fit inside a thimble, mostly from his sister who was about the same age as Carson’s daughter, a woman didn’t like to be made to feel as if they were a damsel in distress. Kiersten was also stubborn and independent, and although Nix and his brothers still watched over her, they’d learned to be subtler with their efforts. “I hear you, sir, but why would your daughter welcome me to “watch” her?”
“I’ll convince her.”
Nix lifted a brow. “So then…” This was getting more complicated by the second.
“Over the years I promised Melly I would hand her the family ranch, Shy Brooke, when I thought she was ready to take the helm. For years it seemed like she wasn’t interested, too busy with life, until three months ago. She came to me and said she was ready. As you can see, I was caught by surprise and had no clue what the change was. Melly even moved back to Shy Brooke a few days ago. It’d be a disservice to give her the ranch only to watch her make bad decisions. I’m certain she’ll agree to have help, someone to show her the ropes, make her prove that this isn’t just an impulsive decision that’ll peter out, but a true love for the land. You’ll be the guy.”
His mouth went dry. “Me?”
“Come on, don’t look like you could fall over. I know you and your brothers worked your own ranch and know the ins and outs. You understand that a ranch is more than riding horses.”
Nix wanted to argue, but it was true. Bo Cade had taught his kids everything he knew about taking care of a ranch, but the family farm wasn’t nearly the size of Shy Brooke. “Yeah, I might know my way around working the land, but I haven’t run one. Your foreman might be the best pick to show your daughter the ropes.”
“Randy has been at Shy Brooke since Melly was in diapers. Problem is, my girl is as stubborn as a mule and as strong as one. She’ll tell those boys out there what to do and they’ll follow along like hypnotized puppies. I need someone who isn’t afraid to tell her no. Someone who ain’t afraid they’ll lose their job if she takes control.”
“Won’t she think it’s a bit odd that a man wearing a badge is guiding her on running a ranch? And here’s the biggie. One from your own team.”
Carson leaned back into his chair and it squeaked under his weight. “She would if she knew. You’re new. She has no clue you’re on the team. Melly’ll only know that you’re Bo Cade’s son.”
“Ah…” The puzzle was coming together.
“You will be my eyes and ears. I want you to understand how important Shy Brooke is and then you might see why I’m in no hurry to put her in the role she wants. The ranch belonged to her great-grandfather on her mother’s side of the family. I met Melly’s mom, Monica, at a time during my life that I’m not proud of. My wife, Patty, and I had separated. I didn’t think we’d get back together and I looked to the bottom of many whiskey bottles searching for answers. Then one night I saw Monica and she was a breath of fresh air. She had the loveliest, brightest blue eyes and thick hair that landed at her waist.” An unexplainable sadness passed through his eyes. “She helped me when I had no hope. I stopped drinking, haven’t had a drop since, and those were the most wonderful four months of my life…and then Patty was in a car accident. She broke a lot of bones and needed care, and I couldn’t leave her, not like that, so we dropped the divorce proceedings.” Carson reached for his water, drank half of it before recapping the bottle. “That last night with Monica, when I told her what I was doing, I thought I’d never see her again. Emotions were high. I had no clue that nine months later she’d show up and tell me that she was about to give birth to our child. She wasn’t asking for anything, just to let me know. When I told Patty, she was very understanding and wanted us to be a part of the baby’s life. We never had any children of our own. Well, I didn’t get to see Melly as often as I wanted when she was growing up because I was stationed abroad a lot, but Patty was very involved. And then we got the terrible news…” Carson turned his cheek and looked out the window, “that Monica had cancer. The doctors had given her six months to live and she held on for a year, but before she passed, she’d met with Patty and me and told us her wishes. Monica wanted us to live at Shy Brooke with Melly. I mean, it made sense, but I didn’t ask, or expect, that the ranch would be signed over to me. All Monica asked was for me not to give Melly the deed until she was completely ready.” He sniffed loudly. “After Patty passed away too and Melly had been living out of state for a few years, I moved to an apartment close to here. The ranch house was too quiet. We always complain that we want peace and quiet, but when we get it, it doesn’t feel right. I still go out to the ranch, supervise things. It works. Unfortunately, Randy has told me of his plans to retire, so you see things need to be put in order first.”
“Could you help her run things…?”
“She and I…well, we’ve always butted heads. She thinks I’m overbearing. I probably am.” He swiped his palm down his cheek and turned. “I’ve never liked her boyfriends. Never liked her choices.”
“I’m sure my parents would agree that they haven’t liked many of my choices.”
“Just tell me I can count on you.”
“Just so I know we’re on the same page, you want me to go to the ranch with your daughter under the pretense that I’m helping her take over the helm? Yet, what I’m really doing is making sure she’s behaving herself? Responsible enough? Sir, that’s a glorified babysitter.” He wanted to sigh in aggravation, but he contained his irritation. After all this was his hero sitting across from him. Nix gripped the arms of his chair, waiting for the team to jump in and shout, “Surprise. You’ve been punked. Welcome to the team!” This must be what it was because he’d never been asked anything stranger before.
Carson pushed back his chair and stood, wobbled slightly, then caught his balance against the edge of the desk. He took the five steps to the window and looked out, his jaw set tight. “I know this request must come as a shock, and I feel since I’m asking you I should at least tell you why…beyond just a father’s love for his daughter.”
Nix realized this wasn’t a joke, or a test for the new guy on the team. He listened as Carson continued, “I’ve always put my career and country before everything, although I didn’t realize that until much later in life. That’s why Patty and I almost divorced. The military life is hard on families, but it’s what we sign up for. The military was in my blood and I couldn’t give it up. Patty was a saint, put up with a lot, knowing I loved Monica even though I never acted on my feelings after I said goodbye. Melly reminds me of her mother, the hair and her smile…beautiful. They both embodied freedom, fearlessness, strength. Monica and I had so much in common, yet nothing at all.” His shoulders slumped some as if he couldn’t hold up the weight any longer. “It was nice, but all good things must come to an end.” He turned, walked to the desk and took a seat on the corner. “I haven’t always been there when Melly needed me. Losing her mother at ten was hard on her, and then Patty. My daughter rebelled, had every right to, and we were both sharing heartache, but we never talked about it. She thinks I’m being overhanded by not giving her the ranch, but there’s more to it.”
“I understand, but how…”
“Does this tie into what I’m asking of you? Monica didn’t want Melly saddled down with the responsibility to run the ranch like she had been. She wanted Melly to travel, to have a chance to live, have fun. Monica understood that it takes a lot to run a ranch. Commitment. Responsibility. Melly took her mom literally because that child has been living freely since she turned eighteen. From one mistake to another. Even quit college to pursue a dream. Before I sign over her mother’s legacy, a place she loved, I need to make sure my daughter is ready.”
“You think your daughter doesn’t want the ranch? That this is an impulsive fluke?”
Carson shrugged a thin shoulder—thinner than Nix remembered. “I think she does, but after this last fiasco…”
“Fiasco?”
Carson straightened the collar of his shirt. “It doesn’t matter now.” He waved a hand through the air. “I-I just want her to take responsibility of something. Choose a path.” His face turned two shades whiter. “I found out recently that I have cancer, stage three.”
Nix slumped back into the chair. This was an insane idea. He couldn’t think of anything he’d least likely do than babysit his boss’s daughter. Yet, after hearing Carson’s logic behind this situation, Nix understood. And cancer? How could Nix turn the request down? The other man must have sensed Nix’s trepidation.
“I’m not telling you this for your pity, son.” Carson pressed his palms flat on the desk and leaned forward. “But it’s important for you to understand the bigger picture.”
“Does your daughter know that you have cancer?”
“No. Not yet.”
Shock curled within Nix. The man was persuasive that’s for damn sure, and very serious about this, enough so that he bared his soul to Nix. He was locked into this whether he liked it or not. “Okay, but is there a time frame we’re looking at?” Nix couldn’t dedicate himself to this assignment without a set deadline.
“One month. That should give us plenty of time to answer the big question. Is my daughter ready to take the responsibility of Shy Brooke.” Carson pushed himself off the desk and swiped his hands together. “It’s time she left the life of a reality star behind her and found her place.”
Stuck on what he’d just agreed to, it took Nix a little longer than normal to wrap his brain around what Carson had said. “Reality star?” Had he heard right?
“Something she did five, six, years ago. I swear I told her it would live with her long after they stopped shooting Survivor Island, but she refuses to see.” He tore a hand through his hair and shook his head in irritation.
A dark cloud suspended over Nix’s head. Flaming hair. Bright, engaging smile. Reality star. Survivor Island. Carson could be describing Melissia. Oh fuck. Nix’s stomach twisted. He searched the office, looking for a picture…
Had he ever met Carson’s daughter? Could he remember what she looked like?
The speaker on Carson’s desk buzzed followed by Claire’s voice, “Sir, your daughter has arrived. Shall I show her in?”
“Thanks. I’ll meet her in the lobby.” He lifted his finger from the button and stared at Nix. “Are you with me, son?”
“I…am I with you?” What could he say?
“You don’t have a girl, do you?” Carson’s lips thinned.
“A girl? No.” Although he dated on occasion, Melissia had been the first girl he’d been into, really into, for a while. And it wasn’t much considering it was a one-night stand and she left before the sun came up. He didn’t have much time for dating and wasn’t that interested in the idea either. Serious relationships deserved serious intentions and tons of time. Nix loved his career and never really understood how couples could balance out work and personal. He always figured he’d eventually settle down, but now with the career change, the aspect of his future was even more unsettled or certain. Lord knew his parents talked about grandkids often, badgering their kids to find the right one and have a family. He refused to fold under pressure though. “What does that have to do with this, sir?”
“A woman, a partner, might not like the idea of you living on a ranch with a pretty woman, even if it’s work related.” Carson looked hopeful shown by his extending smile.
“Living on the ranch?” Maybe at some point he’d stop repeating everything Carson said, but this situation seemed to grow more furry layers every minute.
“Of course, Cade. You’ll be staying in the hand quarters unless I can talk Melly into letting you stay in the guest room, but I wouldn’t count on that, at least not right away.”
Nodding, that’s about all Nix could do as he still searched for a photo. Even though the circumstances seemed similar, how could it be possible that his Melissa was Melly, his boss’s daughter? That would be a fucked-up twist. But then he found what he was looking for, a framed picture sitting on a file cabinet. Although it was a grainy picture, Nix would know the hair, the smile, the beckoning eyes anywhere. And then he knew, things just took a spin down crazy town.