Jan Hambright - Camouflage Cowboy

Grace stared at him, feeling the heat in his touch as it pulsed along her arm in an intimate connection she could feel growing between them.

“I’ll find a way to neutralize the creep stalking you.” There was absolute seriousness in the set of Nick’s mouth and the slight narrowing of his intense blue eyes.

A blade of fear knifed through her. “Be careful, Nick. He’s got friends with badges who don’t seem to mind helping him. He’s been able to trace me everywhere I’ve been for the past three years.”

“That’s when you ran?”

“Yes.”

“Who is he, Grace?”

Her emotions locked up, strangled with tension that wound tight like a cord inside of her. The whole truth could drive Nick away when she needed his help the most, but she couldn’t live with herself if she let him walk into a trap because he hadn’t been forewarned.

“He’s my ex-brother-in-law.”

“Your ex-husband’s brother?”

“My dead husband’s brother.”

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Jan Hambright penned her first novel at seventeen, but claims it was pure rubbish. However, it did open the door on her love for storytelling. Born in Idaho, she resides there with her husband, three of their five children, a three-legged watchdog and a spoiled horse named Texas, who always has time to listen to her next story idea while they gallop along.

A self-described adrenaline junkie, Jan spent ten years as a volunteer EMT in rural Idaho, and jumped out of an airplane at ten thousand feet attached to a man with a parachute, just to celebrate turning forty. Now she hopes to make your adrenaline level rise along with that of her danger-seeking characters. She would like to hear from her readers and hopes you enjoy the story world she has created for you. Jan can be reached at P.O. Box 2537, McCall, Idaho 83638.

Nick Cavanaugh—A former army ranger and member of Corps Security and Investigations, Nick is grateful for the second chance he has been given by CSaI founder Bart Bellows. But the object of his special assignment, Grace Marshall, could prove to be his toughest mission yet.

Grace Marshall—Given up for adoption as an infant, Grace is now desperate to find her birth mother in order to save her ill son’s life via a bone marrow transplant. Can she locate the woman before time runs out for her little boy, Caleb, and before a maniac from her past threatens both of their lives?

Caleb Marshall—Four-year-old Caleb was born with aplastic anemia. He needs a donor, but his rare blood type has narrowed his chances of finding a suitable match. Can one be found in time?

Wes Bradley—The soldier was reported killed in Iraq by an IED, but his name has surfaced in connection with some of the attacks against Governor Lila Lockhart. Could he still be alive?

Rodney Marshall—Bent on vengeance, he’s determined to make Grace Marshall pay for what she did.

Governor Lila Lockhart—Texas loves her, but a scandal from her past could destroy her chance of ever becoming the president of the United States. Only Nick Cavanaugh, her hand-picked CSaI agent, stands between the discovery of that truth and the highest office in the land.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Nick Cavanaugh rose from one of the park benches perched on the perimeter of Freedom’s town square, checked the traffic in both directions and jaywalked across Main Street, careful to keep his pace nonchalant.

Anticipation skated over his nerves, etching certainty into his brain. He’d learned it hard and solid on the battlefields of Iraq: stay one step ahead of your enemies, or two steps back for a clear shot.

His heart rate notched up.

The door of Potter’s Drugstore swept open just as Nick made the curb half a block to the east.

Funny. His target didn’t look like much of a threat. The observation gelled in his brain as he watched her step out into the early afternoon sunlight. She casually looped her arm in her purse strap and deposited it on her shoulder. She turned to her right and moved along the sidewalk, her blond ponytail swaying back and forth between her shoulder blades as she moved away from him.

Nick increased his rate of follow, backing off only when she paused in front of the Talk of the Town Café to study something in the window before proceeding due north again.

He knew her beat-up silver Toyota Camry was sucked up next to the curb half a block away.

Tension braided his muscles into a knot. Had he pegged her correctly? Or was he headed for an ambush? He wrestled the questions to the back of his mind and looked at his watch. C’mon, c’mon, he thought. He had to get to Grace Marshall now. Another minute and she’d make it to her car and escape.

Focused on her alone, he narrowed the distance.

On his left, a man wearing a black hoodie, black sweatpants and running shoes brushed past him and broke into a sprint.

Time slowed as Nick listened to the jogger’s pounding footsteps echo off the sidewalk and ping against the brick-and-mortar storefronts that lined the quaint main street of Freedom, Texas.

Grace Marshall’s high-pitched shriek slammed against his eardrums. The man in the black hoodie and Grace were engaged in a tug of war over the purse.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Nick took aim at the would-be purse-snatcher and charged.

Stressed, the metal ring anchoring the strap to the purse broke.

Grace still clutched the handbag, but the force of the sudden release sent the bag flopping across the sidewalk as the strap slipped through the purse-snatcher’s fingers.

He took off down the street at a dead run and vanished around the corner at 4th and Main.

Car keys, pill bottles, a hairbrush and a wallet were scattered across the sidewalk next to her. She went to her knees on the concrete.

Nick shuffled to a stop and knelt beside her.

“I saw what happened. Are you okay?”

She turned wide blue eyes on him for a second before reaching for the contents of her purse. “Yeah.”

He reached out and picked up one of the prescription pill bottles, glanced at the name on it, then handed it to her. “I’ll call the police. I got a good look at him. I think I can give them a description—”

“No! I mean…” Grace tried to force the lump in her throat to go down, but it wouldn’t budge. The last thing she needed was local law enforcement poking around in her business. “I still have my purse and its contents. There’s no reason to involve the police. He’s probably halfway to the next county by now.” She shoved the last item into her handbag and pulled the zipper closed before staring eye to eye with the handsome stranger who’d come to her rescue.