Page 43

F our months later…

Maddox

Who the hell purchased a previously working cattle ranch on a whim, especially one who knew very little about owning a business or participating in the required everyday grunt work?

This guy, the one who’d never felt so in the weeds as he had the last two weeks.

I’d neglected to take the cattle to slaughter. I’d had a dozen excuses from weather to the day being inconvenient, but the truth was staring me in the eyes.

The thought of killing them under any circumstances disgusted me.

Maybe it was the fact my mother had volunteered at an animal sanctuary when I’d been a teenager or that my uncle had a cattle ranch in Wyoming and during a visit, I’d been subjected to witnessing the entire process.

Including a visit to a beef processing plant.

Maybe I’d been bored or had consumed too many shots of bourbon when I’d eyed the ranch’s internet page. But I’d called the broker and negotiated a deal within twelve hours.

Right now, I was beginning to wonder if I was certifiable.

I rubbed my arm across my face, still sweating even though there was snow on the ground. I hated the white shit, or at least I’d come to barely tolerating it since this was the third major snowstorm of the season.

The cows were suffering.

The horses were suffering.

Hell, I was suffering. Chopping wood every day kept me in shape, but I was getting too old for this shit.

From what I’d been told by a few locals, all of them insisting they were experts, I hadn’t planned carefully enough to keep the cows well fed from grasses. That’s why I was constantly supplementing their food with hay. At this point, I would go broke.

Even after the hefty paycheck I’d received months earlier.

The thought made me grit my teeth even as beads of sweat trickled down both sides of my face.

I wiped them away more roughly this time as I gazed at one of several pastures while standing in the bed of the truck.

I’d finally pulled off my gloves, scrubbing my face with my hand.

The last thing I needed was to think about Charmaine. Not now. Nope. I couldn’t do it.

Sadly, an image of her beautiful face remained ingrained in the forefront of my mind.

Damn it.

Another truck pulled alongside mine, Randy sticking his head out the open driver’s side window. It was already getting dark and it was barely four-thirty in the afternoon.

I hated everything to do with winter.

“The other pastures are taken care of, the horses fed and put to bed. Is it okay if I go? Molly planned a special dinner since it’s my birthday.”

Molly. His wife. The one he barely got to spend any time with since I was apparently a slave driver. At least according to her.

Well, shit. I was also a crappy boss. Randy Cullan was a damn good foreman, able to take a heavy load off my shoulders. I hadn’t even known it was his birthday. “Shit, man. I’m sorry. You should have said something.”

“Not a problem. I know you’re stressed.”

Stressed. He thought about the ranch. That had little to do with the anxiety that had plagued me for months. “I’m just fine. Go have a good night.”

“See you in the morning.”

I nodded, waiting until he drove off before jumping off the truck’s bed.

The view was beautiful. I’d give it that, the mountains glowing in the light pink sunset.

I’d hoped for respite when I’d bought the place, a refuge from the noise of city life and the constant images festering deep in the back of my mind.

A place where I could finally heal, able to lock the demons away.

Nothing seemed to be working.

Not long hours.

Not exhaustion.

No amount of booze, which I’d have to curtail or I’d be right back to where I’d been up to the day of purchasing the ranch.

Even the haze had little to do with the war and the crap I’d endured.

My mind was completely and utterly occupied with wondering about Charmaine and her new life.

As expected, I’d been told shit other than she and her parents had been accepted into the witness protection program.

I’d even checked on her parents a couple of weeks after, but it was as if they didn’t exist.

I’d done the right thing in convincing her that her life was more important, but goddamn it, I felt hollow inside.

And the last thing she’d said to me before walking out of my life?

“See you around, cowboy.”

Yeah, some fucking cowboy I was. Maybe it was time I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I closed the tailgate, staring at the mountains for a few more seconds before heading to the cab. I had a feeling Charmaine would have liked the place.

Jesus. I was talking about her as if she was no longer breathing. Then again, I didn’t know for certain and I’d held back on contacting Gray after learning she and her family had been placed in a safe location. He’d assured the area had met her approval.

But I knew better. The girl would be like a caged bird for the rest of her life. Maybe one day she could return to her former life.

That all depended on how the dozens of court cases went. I’d lost count of how many indictments there’d been, men and women who’d worked with Alfaro for years doing everything from looking the other way to pushing back on Congress’ effort to curtail the supply of drugs coming into the country.

Plus, we’d been right in our assumptions. Dozens of people in at least eight countries had been accused of hiring Alfaro in murder for hire situations. And everything had been designed to increase their wealth.

If a scientist or team had been traced, I hadn’t heard and didn’t care. There were murders and disappearances every day, Alfaro still in power. If the Feds were smart, they’d rattle his tree and force him from his lair.

That was their business. Not mine.

That’s where the information highway had stopped.

Gray hadn’t been in a position to tell me any of the other details.

Other than the group he was working with would continue bringing corruption out in the open.

Not only did I know better than to barrage him with questions, but I also simply hadn’t been interested in doing so.

I had my life. He had his. We wouldn’t cross paths again.

I also hadn’t embroiled myself in the news because every time I caught a single story about the situation, I’d thought of Charmaine. I started the engine and shook my head. Why did I feel like some lovesick puppy dog? It was time to move on. She was safe. That was all that mattered.

With the truck rolling, I put aside thoughts about the past, trying my best to think about the future. As I headed past one of the guest cottages that had been built prior to my purchase, I slowed and peered out the window.

The previous owner had been intent on turning the unprofitable ranch into a tourist attraction.

Now I was beginning to understand why. The poor guy had put in hundreds of thousands of dollars of infrastructure only to find his funds drying up.

From what the real estate agent had told me, the guy had even tried to secure investors.

No one had taken the risk.

That’s why I’d managed to pick up the parcel of land for less than market value. From what I’d heard, he’d retired to Arizona.

Maybe the real reason was he couldn’t stand the goddamn cold winters any longer.

One thing was clear; I was allowing an opportunity to pass by. I’d need to make a decision on what I wanted to do with the property prior to spring’s arrival.

I pulled up in front of the main house, allowing the engine to idle for a full minute before cutting it. Since I could remember, I’d been in a full house or bunker. Even in college I’d had two dorm mates.

Since getting out of the Navy, I’d lived entirely alone. Not a plant. Not a dog. And certainly not with a woman. I had to admit, there were as many bad aspects of being alone as there were good.

If I had to admit it, I’d say I was lonely as fuck.

Everything ached as I stepped from the vehicle, taking long strides toward the door and slipping the lock inside. When I heard a noise, I immediately reached for my weapon.

Force of habit.

Between the three assholes I’d run into again while in town and what had occurred in El Salvador, I’d decided to keep my weapon with me at all times.

I scanned the perimeter, reminding myself I did live in the wilderness.

Once inside, I ripped off my jacket and thick flannel outer shirt, tossing them on the wooden chair by the door.

I only bothered to turn on a single light before heading to the fireplace.

Fire first. Drink second. I’d worry about dinner later.

I placed the weapon on the end table and took a deep breath.

Thankfully, I’d brought enough wood in for the night. I crouched down, tossing evenly cut pieces into the massive stone fireplace. After adding a few pieces of kindling, I grabbed a long match.

With the fire lit, I shifted back, staring at the flames. The reason every muscle was aching wasn’t entirely because of the daily grind. I’d felt this way since the day I’d stepped off the goddamn plane coming from DC.

The end had been too abrupt, leaving no room for doubt. Maybe I should have done something different. The self-doubt had already robbed me of what little sleep I’d gotten before.

Exhaling, I also was faced with the reality that shoving thoughts about Charmaine out of my mind was more difficult than doing so about the tragedies faced during my stint in the Navy.

Maybe more so.

Time for a goddamn drink. Maybe tonight the liquor would help me forget.

Before I had a chance to head into the kitchen, my phone buzzed.

I yanked it into my hand, snorting when I noticed an unknown caller.

I was in the mood for beer tonight. Why not take it out on whatever asshole had decided to interrupt my nice evening,

“Hey, fucker. Go the hell away. If you don’t, I will hunt you down.”

“Maddox. She’s gone.”

The voice startled me as much as his words. “Gray. What the fuck are you talking about?”