Chapter Seventeen
Walking into the barn felt very different now.
Pope stopped in the doorway, expecting to hear Flint in his stall, eager for Pope to lead him out.
Flint was gone.
The absence hit him harder than he expected. For months, that horse silenced the noise in his head. All those early mornings he worked with Flint, breaking his bad habits and helping to train new ones into him had meant so much.
He gave a small shake of his head. Flint might be gone, but the emptiness didn’t feel quite as sharp as it would have a few weeks ago.
“A guy brought his daughter by yesterday looking for you.”
Pope turned at the voice and found Truman leaning in the doorway holding a coffee cup. Ranger stood at his side.
A smile tugged at Pope’s mouth before he could stop it. “About this tall?” He held a hand waist height. “Pink cowgirl boots?”
Truman snorted and brought his cup to his lips. “That’s the one.”
He shook his head again, warmth settling low in his chest at the memory of the little girl’s arms wrapped around Flint’s neck.
“She wanted to show you pictures already.” Truman pushed away from the door and crossed the aisle. “Horse looks happy.”
Pope scuffed his boot over the worn hardwood. “I think he ended up where he belonged.”
Somehow that felt true for more than just the horse.
He and Truman shared a look. There was nothing more to say—his friend understood.
Truman pushed off the doorway and drifted into the barn with Ranger matching his steps. “So…you got Summer back.”
His lips tightened. “Thanks to the security team.”
“And your quick action, from what I hear.”
“We were damn lucky. Some of that guy’s victims weren’t.”
That settled heavily between them, leaving only the sound of a tractor in one of the nearby fields and a clank of metal.
“I’m happy for you, Pope. You deserve it.”
His throat tightened. “So do you. Everyone in this place gave up so much for our country.”
Truman issued another snort, this one more mournful. “Deserve is a broad term. But I hear you.” He reached down absently and brushed his fingertips over Ranger’s head. The dog looked up at him in his watchful way, gauging his owner’s mood in ways humans failed to.
“Make sure to save our seats for coffee tomorrow morning.”
Truman looked up at him, surprise rippling over his face. “Thought you were out of the program.”
“Might be out of the program. Doesn’t mean I don’t like coffee.”
They shared a smile of understanding. Pope walked toward the exit, and he and Truman, together with Ranger, went out into the morning air. The sun hadn’t yet burned off all the fog of dawn, which left a layer across the fields and concealing the mountain peaks.
“What’s on your agenda this morning?” he asked Truman.
“Just finished sunrise yoga.”
His brows shot up in surprise. “You? I thought you hated sunrise yoga.”
He gave an awkward shrug. “Thought I should try something new. Branch out.” He stared across the yard toward the main house.
Pope gripped his friend’s shoulder. “I understand. I’d best get to the office.”
“See you tomorrow morning.”
Pope flicked out his hand in a wave and continued toward the security office.
Everything about his day so far left him with a tight feeling in his chest—Flint’s empty stall, hearing that his new owner wanted to share photos of him, and the promise to continue his friendship with Truman, even if they were in different places in their lives.
Most of all, waking beside the woman he loved left him with so much warmth that his body didn’t seem capable of holding it all.
When he walked into the Black Heart Security office, he expected another briefing from Carson on Summer’s case.
Instead he found the entire team gathered around the long conference table drinking coffee and watching him with expressions that put him on edge.
Carson leaned back in his seat. “You look nervous.”
None of the Malones bothered hiding their grins.
“I am nervous.” Pope shut the office door behind him.
Or course he was. His head was on the chopping block. He’d failed on his first and only mission—his test run—and his ward had been kidnapped on his watch.
He moved slowly toward the empty seat between Theo and Dutch. Colt glanced up from his phone as he passed behind him. In the corner where Willow previously sat taking notes or doing office administration, Ayla now took her place.
As he took a seat, Carson opened his mouth to speak, but the sudden violent noise of retching sounded.
Dutch shot to his feet, and so did Colt. They stared at each other for a beat.
“Willow.” Dutch took off for the door.
“It’s gotta be Aspen.” Colt bolted after him.
Theo rested his elbows on the table. “Is there a stomach flu going around the family?”
“Damn, I don’t want that shit. I leave today for Portland on a job.” Denver’s brows lowered in consternation.
“Relax.” Gray looked amused. “Willow and Aspen have buns in the oven.”
Everyone gaped at him.
“Morning sickness,” he explained, even though nobody needed it.
A grin split Carson’s face. “Damn, that’s good news. It feels like we should throw another party.”
The diversion from the meeting only lasted a beat before Carson recovered and directed his attention to Pope.
He slid a folder across the table toward him. “You passed everything.”
He frowned. “Passed what?”
“Evaluations. Tactical review from our team. All of it.” Carson’s statement was followed by silence.
Then realization struck Pope, and suddenly he felt like he just might deserve to breathe the same air as them.
Theo’s smile spread over his face. “You’re officially Black Heart Security.”
He stared at the folder for a second, afraid to touch it.
A year ago he’d barely been holding himself together. Baghdad destroyed his career and his confidence. The therapy program at the Black Heart started as something he endured because he didn’t know what else to do with himself.
Now he sat in a room full of friends who were handing him a future. He looked around at them all—men he felt he could call brothers.
His throat tightened enough that he had to clear it before speaking. “I won’t let you down.”
Carson snorted. “Yeah, we know.”
Light laughter moved through the room.
Denver gave him a nod. “You already proved yourself, Pope.”
His gaze drifted around the table again. “What’s next?”
Carson tipped his chin upward. “You sign that contract and get put in the rotation. Your next assignment could come in an hour or weeks.”
Tonight. A week. He didn’t have enough time to make sure Summer was all right. She might be safe, but he knew all too well how fear could eat a person from the inside out.
“I have a request.”
Denver kicked back in his seat. “I knew it. He’s already asking for time off.”
More laughter greeted his outburst, but Pope met Carson’s stare.
“I’m listening.” Carson waved a hand.
“I actually was going to ask for a bit of time off. To ensure Summer’s mental health is okay. She’s going to talk to Rhae, but I’d like to watch her longer. And Ben’s coming home from his RV adventure with his grandparents.”
“You survived war zones, but you sound like a seven-year-old scares you.” Carson’s mouth tipped but his eyes were serious.
“He asks harder questions.”
The guys chuckled.
“Summer has some things to decide on. Like how much to share about her incident with Ben.”
A heavy weight fell over the room again.
Denver cleared his throat. “My experience as a father has been that you only give them as much information as is appropriate for their age. You answer their questions and don’t give them much more.”
Theo turned his head, face alive with amusement. “Like when Navy asked you why the horsey was jumping on the other horsey’s back?”
They all burst out laughing, and damn, it felt good. Pope even had to swipe a knuckle under his eye to wipe away a tear.
When they all settled, Carson met his stare. “You and Summer went through hell. Take a breath before we throw you back into assignments. Take care of your family, Pope.”
The stinging knot in his throat was a different emotion, one that he hadn’t had enough time to think about.
His family. Summer and Ben and him. Maybe someday, more kids. The thought of seeing Summer round with his child, glowing—or experiencing morning sickness—suddenly felt like too much joy to hold.
An idea formed in his head.
A really good one.
He straightened. “I’ll take your offer. Thank you.”
Theo picked up his coffee. “Look at this healthy emotional growth.”
“Shut up.”
Everyone laughed again, even Ayla from her desk in the corner.
“I’ll sign the contract in a few hours. Right now, I need to make a call.”
Carson waved him toward the door. “Get out of here.”
He stepped out into the spring morning, drinking in the wind that carried the scent of dirt, grass and horses. Beyond the pastures, Wyoming stretched wide beneath an endless sky.
No matter where he was, this place would always feel like home.
As soon as he climbed into his truck, he called Summer’s parents first because if he talked directly to Ben, the kid would destroy his surprise in thirty seconds.
Edie answered.
“Vander!”
Warmth filled her voice and made him smile. “Hey, Edie.”
“How’s our girl doing?” Concern softened her tone. Summer had called her parents with the details of her kidnapping, but told them she didn’t want them to race back.
“Better.” He leaned back against the seat and stared through the windshield toward the distant mountains. “Still shaken up some, but better.”
“Oh, thank God.” He heard her exhale. “Ben’s been asking nonstop when he can come home.”
That made him smile wider. “Actually…that’s kind of why I’m calling.”
A beat of silence followed.
“You’ve got that tone,” she said carefully. “The one men get before they do something expensive or emotional.”
He laughed under his breath. “Maybe both.”
“Well then I definitely need details.”
He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I was thinking maybe Summer and Ben need something good after all this.” He paused. “So I want to take them away for a few days.”
“A trip?” Excitement brightened her voice.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, she needs that badly.”