9
“I need a favor.”
A chuckle escapes the whiskey-drenched throat on the other end of the line. “Finally cashing in, Montgomery?”
“Had to sometime.” I keep an eye out for Dakota, but the big foyer’s empty. So I pace. “I only saved your life, is all.”
“So that’s how it is. It’s been seven years. No ‘hello, how are you’ just a ‘you owe me.’”
I snort. “You do.”
“Well, in case you’re interested, I got two kids, a mortgage, and a soon-to-be ex-wife with a bad case of cheating-itis.”
I needle my brow, not wanting to take a walk down memory lane with Rick Ferraro.
At nineteen, I joined the Marines to get out of my small hometown. I liked horses just fine, but I wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself. It was new and unfamiliar but also exhilarating and powerful.
I knew I could do it.
And I did.
I met Ferraro when I joined the Marine Raider team. A unit that specialized in special ops and direct-action missions that had me gone for months with no contact with the outside world. Dark, dangerous shit that not even my family knew about.
Ferraro snorts. “You’re the only reason I got out of there in one piece, so fine, you fuck. What do you want?”
“You still working for that lab?” While others became private bodyguards or law enforcement, Ferraro went to work in a top-secret government agency.
“Damn straight. Sure beats kicking in doors and jumping out of planes.” I hear the wicked smile in Ferraro’s voice. “What it’ll be? Cyanide? Digital revolver? Rail guns?”
I roll my eyes. “Christ, Ferraro, I work on a ranch. No one needs to evaporate a cow.” Phone to my ear, I pace to a carpeted waiting area. “That tracking device you invented. I need one.”
A long pause over the line.
Then a long chuckle rolls out. “Davis Montgomery spooked. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”
“Tell me what for?”
“Tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“Still a stubborn bastard.” Ferraro makes a sound of annoyance. “I’ll get it to you. Keep in mind the SullyScan is unlicensed and experimental.” He chuckles. “The US government wanted to send me straight to the department of ‘the fuck you invented?’”
The tightness in my chest squeezes. “You named it after Sully?”
“Sure did. He’s the reason I invented it, so least I could do was give it his name.”
“Right,” I rough out. Pain lances through me.
Over the line, the shuffle of papers. “You need it, you’ll get it. I got your six, brother.”
Brother.
I shove the tightness back down, launch into what I need.
Ten minutes later, I end the call. I could have used this favor for anything. A cure for cancer. A muzzle for Wyatt. But I used it for Dakota.
I’m not safe. I’ll never be safe.
Her words from earlier haunt me. I need her to understand I’ve got eyes on her. That I’m here to protect her, and I’ll do everything in my power to do so.
Although, if I have to say it, Dakota seems more worried about coming back to town than her ex following her home. As soon as we left the safety of the ranch and stepped out onto Main Street, nervousness came off Dakota in waves.
I heard the small talk between locals after Dakota left town. No matter how far away Dakota was, her memory was an echo I couldn’t shake. The whispers of her lingered.
Did you hear she left her daddy and that store?
That McGraw girl is out there, going it alone. Let’s see if she makes it.
Shame she ran just like her mama.
She’s ready for the big city? Well, let’s see how much of a big city girl she is when she sees how much everything costs.
I ached to put a fist through the face of anyone who dared talk badly about her.
Pacing across the floor, my focus shifts from the sterile waiting room to the door Dakota disappeared through. I don’t like that she went in alone, but what can I do? It’s better if it’s just her. It’s not my job to go with her.
A door opens.
Dakota walks toward me.
Fuck. She’s been crying. Just the sight alone threatens to take ten damn years off my life.
“Hey,” I say. “Everything okay?”
She sniffles. Forces a lukewarm smile. “Fine. Healthy. I have low blood sugar, but there’s a baby in there.”
Dakota glances down at her belly, and I fight the urge to yank her into my arms and keep her there. She looks so damn sad; she’s carving out my heart.
“I’m eighteen weeks,” she whispers, glancing up at me. “ Eighteen . It feels like bad luck.”
“I don’t believe in bad luck.” I don’t want this kind of thinking for Koty.
She holds my gaze, as if she’s considering what to say next, when the lobby door opens.
With the chill of the ice-cold wind, come Stede and Fallon.
Surprise flares in Dakota’s eyes. “Daddy.”
“Hey, daydreamer.” Stede steps forward to squeeze Dakota’s arm. “Davis.”
I nod. “Sir.”
Dakota’s dark, hopeful eyes flick to her sister’s. “Hi, Fallon.”
There’s a hesitation in Fallon’s guarded gaze. It’s been obvious in the conversations I’ve had with Stede that something chilled between the sisters the day Dakota left town.
Fallon stays silent, giving a cool nod. Dakota’s face falls, and I clamp my teeth together to hide a growl.
Dakota takes a deep breath. “What’re you doing here?”
“Got treatment.” Stede’s gaze drops to Dakota’s stomach. “How’s that grandkid of mine?”
“Had my first appointment,” she offers, waving a hand over her stomach, but stopping just short of touching it.
I frown.
“Sure can’t wait to meet the little one,” Stede says, and Dakota’s face softens. Her father’s words are exactly what she needs.
Fallon, in a worn army-green jacket, shoulders her backpack. A Louis L’Amour book peeks out from a torn pocket. “C’mon, Dad, we should go.”
Dakota perks up. “I can stay with him.” She tucks a long lock of dark hair behind her ear.
Fallon looks like Dakota’s offered to auction her off in marriage. Her face is a storm cloud. “It’s okay. I read to him while we wait.”
“I can read too, you know.”
I silently swear as Dakota digs in her heels with a stubborn, older-sister attitude.
I take a step forward, wanting to intercept the argument before it starts, but Stede sighs. Blocks me from going forward. “Let it run its course, kid. You’re mad for five minutes; these girls stay mad for life.”
I look at Stede, the old man’s wise and weathered face, and a brick of trepidation lands in my stomach.
Dakota gives Fallon a long, pleading look. “He’s my father, too. Let me help.”
Fallon snorts. “I’ve been here since the beginning. You don’t know anything about his treatments and you don’t get to roll up in here and act like you’re some great savior.”
“Okay.” Dakota’s lower lip trembles. “You’re mad at me, I get it.”
“Do you get it, Dakota?” Fallon’s voice rises in the quiet lobby. “You can’t help. You got yourself into a mess you have to fix. You have to think of yourself. Like you’ve always done.”
Dakota closes her eyes at the verbal hit.
When they finally flash back open, I note the fierce spark of fire in her eyes. “That’s not fair,” Dakota snaps. “I didn’t even know Dad was sick. If you want to act like a martyr because I left town, so be it. But that’s on you, Fallon.”
Fallon utters a condescending laugh. “If that’s the story you want to tell yourself to feel better, good for you.”
Fuck it.
I can’t stay out of it. I don’t want animosity with Fallon, but if I have to choose between them, I’ll piss Fallon off every damn time to protect her sister.
“Look.” I glare at Fallon, hoping she gets my fucking point, that if she makes Dakota cry, she’s going to have a whole other set of problems. “Your sister’s been through a lot. Can you give her some grace?”
“Wish she’d give me some,” Fallon mutters.
A vein pulses in my temple.
These sisters couldn’t be more different. One evokes brotherly love and frustration in me, while the other has my heart full of so many fucking twists and turns I don’t know where my mind is half the time. I want to strangle Fallon. Kiss the fuck out of Dakota.
“You know, Fallon, you’re pissing me off and acting like a brat,” I bark. “Shut up.”
Hands on her hips, eyes wide in disbelief, Dakota turns to me. “Don’t talk to my sister like that.”
“Yeah,” Fallon says. “I don’t need the likes of you telling me what I ought to do.”
I groan, unsure how I’m suddenly the bad guy.
Both sisters round on me. And on my emotions. “One of us will punch you,” Fallon snarls. “And the other will run you over with our truck. Take your pick.”
“Enough,” Stede roars, hand lifted. His voice cracks from the effort. “This shit stops now.”
The sisters freeze.
Fallon swears.
Dakota flinches.
Stede’s disapproval coats the room. “I reckon you both got issues, but now is not the time, and it sure isn’t the damn place.”
Dakota and I share a look. Stede McGraw, pissed as hell, is a sight to see. Never in my life have I seen him raise his voice, and judging by the looks on his daughter’s faces, it’s been a long time for them, too.
“You girls are my heart, my soul, but damn if you’re not breaking both of them the way you’re acting.”
“Daddy,” Dakota whispers, hands clasped to her heart.
Even Fallon looks shamefaced.
“Fallon, you’re angry with Dakota. Talk it out on your own fucking time.” A mischievous smile ghosts his lips. “And I’ll give you the right place to do it, too.” Stede looks at Dakota. “You need a job, daydreamer. You come work at the store.”
Dakota inhales, sharp.
I drag a hand down my face, swearing under my breath. What the old man is thinking by sticking his daughters together is beyond me. They’ll either make up, or they’ll destroy the entire fucking world.
“Daddy, no,” Fallon says, her face creasing with panic.
Stede holds up a hand, silencing them both. “I love you both. But get it the fuck together.”
Fallon and Dakota stare at each other. Traitor, Fallon’s wild hazel eyes say.
“This way, you two can spend some time together,” Stede continues. “Fallon, you can keep your lessons going with Wyatt before you head to Calgary in the summer, and Dakota can work at the store.”