76. My Turf My Rules #2
He clicks off, leans down, and scoops up Colt. His chubby face is red and fat, angry tears course down his cheeks as he screams. Eli walks and rubs his back, talking to him.
My nephew’s cries don’t stop.
“Bright?”
I whirl.
“Lower your weapon, baby.” His voice is soothing amid the chaos.
I realize I have my pistol trained on him, finger still on the trigger. I work to unclench my jaw as I remove my finger and place it on the barrel before taking a deep breath.
“Got any money on you?”
“Odd question, Eli. Are you taking bets or something? Check my desk, though, there’s some change in there.”
He pulls open the wide middle drawer and lifts a couple of coins sliding them into his front pants pockets.
Weirdest day ever. I must’ve said that aloud.
“You have retained counsel.”
Shit. Fuck.
My eyes close. My arms drop to my side, and my shoulders slump. The piercing reverberation in my ears rings as I stare down at the person I just killed.
It’s the sob that rips from my chest that brings me back to reality.
“Not now, baby.” Eli’s voice is pointed. “Not now. Tonight, you can cry. Right now, stay angry. You do not need to appear remorseful. Scared? Angry? That works. Do not let them see you regret anything.”
I nod and take my eyes off the prone body to look into Eli’s eyes. His are hard. He’s pacing with Colt who still cries.
And I get it.
Elias
“Can I have Colt?” Bright’s eyes flit between my face and the crying baby in my arms.
“Not yet, darlin’.”
“Why?”
“Trust me?”
“Of course I do.” She’s got her back up. The strong fighter I know has a gleam in her eyes.
“Then follow my lead, okay?”
When the lights flit across the inside of the barn and multiple voices call out for entry, the relief that flows over her is practically palpable.
A pair of officers walk in as if they’re invincible. A third, much younger than the first two, shows some self-preservation by looking around, hanging back, and keeping a lighter step.
When the leader of the bunch sees Bright, hand still on her pistol and the man on the ground, he reaches for his holster, speaking like he would to a skittish animal. Caution finally enters his demeanor. “Ma’am, drop your weapon.”
Bright, to his shock, holsters her firearm. His eyes flit between her hip and the man on the ground.
“What happened here?”
“This”—she waves a hand at the man on the floor—“intruder…” She searches for words before continuing, “raised a gun on me. We’ve had credible threats against my nephew.” Her head tilts toward the hooded figure. “He pointed a gun at me; I fired at him.”
“How many?”
“I wanted him down, not riddled. That took two.”
Colt’s wails echo from the walls, and Bright turns pleading eyes on me.
“Eli, I need Colt,” She pleads with me.
I walk to her and place him in her arms, stroking his head as he strains his neck, close to having cried himself out.
“Threats?” The heavier set one asks while the second in command puffs out his chest and looks down his nose.
The youngest one walks to where the shooter’s firearm slid when Brighton kicked it from his hand. “The gun’s right here.”
“We received a threat this morning intimating that Colt Ranger would be taken. The Sheriff is aware of these threats since he was here soon after they were reported. I don’t know when he left, but the ranch’s on lockdown while we waited to see how credible they were.”
“And you would be?” This comes from the youngest.
“Elias Finchley.” I extend a hand to the deputy I’ve never met. “I called in the trespassing and requested an ambulance. I’m also the attorney for Colt’s father and Miss Ranger.”
“Why does Miss Ranger have an attorney?” Number two asks haughtily.
“For several reasons. Wills and probate, business ventures, licensure, family issues, but to disclose our particular arrangement would violate attorney-client privilege.”
Brighton is talking to Colt whose eyes are finally heavy after crying himself out.
And, it’s in that moment that an ambulance comes flying up, sirens whirring.
She turns pleading eyes on me. “Please ask them to turn those off. And the lights. Colt doesn’t need any more, and the horses are agitated.
It’s not good for Marron’s milk, and their ears aren’t used to it. ”
I leave her with the three deputies and the body and do as she asks, returning with two paramedics.
They move to the figure, clad in tactical gear.
The first to his knees beside him checks for a pulse before they yank his hood off as they lift him onto the stretcher.
The blood from the wound at his neck smears up his pale face.
They speak in medical code over the nondescript man as they rush back to the ambulance.
Sirens whirl again. If I never hear those again, I’ll be good. Luna’s low howl from deep in the barn reminds us this shitty day will leave a mark.
The deputies continue their questioning and eventually retrieve the assailant’s pistol in a clear bag.
Without warning, the color drains from Brighton’s face, and she sinks to her knees. She’s texting wildly with one hand, spending more time with the backspace key than typical, but cradling Colt, rocking him… not for his comfort but her own.
She mutters, “No. No. No,” on repeat and rocks Colt, her knuckles white, her eyes wide.
When I hear more ambulance sirens—not those leaving, but those arriving—I understand. We’ve lost someone.
When my phone rings what feels like forever later, my worst fears are confirmed.
“Eli, Pop was hit. He’ll be in the ambulance that’s still on the ranch. Have Bright close the gates behind him.”
“What’s the status of Kimp?”
Brighton’s face whirls to mine. I hold her eyes as I listen.
He gives me the basics. Nothing he says comforts me. We talk further, but my mind can only tunnel to the man who’s been a father to me, who’s brought me into the fold, made me a Ranger, even—or especially—where his daughter is concerned.
His next words shake me back to reality. “As my attorney, I may or may not have taken out two people today. I’ll only cop to one and that’s because the body is preventing Pop’s front door from latching shut.”
My mind spins as my face turns stoic. The staying-out-of-the-public-eye plan hasn’t just gone pear shaped in the last couple of hours. It’s fucking crashed and burned. The fallout will be massive and the future of the ranch is in far more jeopardy than it was mere hours ago.
More than Brax could know.
More than I can fight on my own.
I’m no heartless bastard as I gaze down at the woman who is my future. It’s not about the place or the land it sits on. It’s her name, her heritage, her future… our future. Our children’s legacy.
She rocks on her knees, as silent cries wrack her body. I see the pain of the last six months, maybe more.
Her strength.
Her fortitude.
Her agony.
Her fear.
Her grief.
But I, more than anyone on this planet, know her joy. Her resilience.
And I know Kimpton’s fighting spirit, the one he passed to his daughter, won’t let us down now.
“Brighton?”
She ignores my words, just as she ignores the deputy’s questions and their milling about the stables.
“Bright?”
She tilts her head back. I lean down and lift her, like a groom would a bride, and walk with her to her office.
I cradle her as she holds Colt.
She folds herself into my chest. “I need to go. I need Pop. He needs me.”
“Yes, he needs you. I need you too, darlin’. And Colt needs you, so we’re going to wait until we know it’s safe. It does us no good for us to put ourselves in danger, to be scattered and all hurt.”
“All?”
I tell her snippets of Braxton’s call, but nothing about his legal concerns. “Brax is taking Emberleigh to the hospital for a concussion. They’re following Pop’s ambulance. I know this isn’t your nature—sitting back and waiting—and I hate to ask it, but I am asking.”
“You should know better.” Her voice is small, not snarky, and I can feel the day weighing on her.
“For now, I suspect the second player, that one that came with him”—I spit out the word while looking to the barn floor where the blood of the assailant stains the ground— “is no longer a threat.”
Her eyes question me, but I shake my head. “Not yet, darlin’,” I whisper. “I won’t leave while the deputies are still on site and I’m not leaving so long as you’re under threat.”
Eventually, the deputies wander back.
“We’re done for now, Miss Ranger. Please don’t leave the area.
We may have more questions and will follow up in the next day or so.
” The brash one lets his gaze roam the barn.
“Nice place you’ve got here. Came on a school field trip eons ago.
Always wanted to come back, though…” His voice trails off before his eyes return to Bright’s face.
“Though I didn’t expect it to be like this.
She nods. She wears the exhaustion of the day like a wet wool coat. For once... and surely the first time in my life, Brighton allows me to speak for her, answer on her behalf, trust me.
“Thank you, gentlemen. We’ll be here when you need us and help you in any way we can.”