Barb Han - Bulletproof Christmas

Dade wouldn’t have called if he’d known about the fling. Rory and Cadence had kept their relationship on the quiet side, or so he had thought until her father confronted him. The charismatic Maverick Mike Butler had been right about one thing: Rory had no business seeing the man’s daughter. She was out of his league and Cadence would never survive his lifestyle of living on the range, being constantly on the go.

The thought of settling into one spot made Rory’s collar shrink. He had a cabin built for one in Texas near Cattle Barge that he called home. One was his lucky number.

No matter what else, it was best that the Butlers had no idea he’d be around. One slip would cause word to get out, since a small family-oriented place like Cattle Barge wasn’t known for being able to keep a secret. Hell, the town’s business had been plastered across every newspaper for months ever since Maverick Mike Butler’s murder last summer, which Rory was truly sorry for when he’d found out about it. Mr. Butler had given Rory a job when he was lost and alone at fifteen years old. Rory had kept his life on the straight and narrow because of the opportunity he’d been given and he would go to his own grave grateful for the hand up when he’d been down on his luck and searching for a steady place to land. Rory had never minded hard work, and Mr. Butler’s only caveat for keeping his job had been that Rory finish high school.

He had, and his boss had attended his graduation. He’d patted Rory on the back and told him he was proud of him.

Granted, the man didn’t like Rory having anything to do with Cadence. But Rory couldn’t blame a father for wanting to protect his daughter. Maverick Mike seemed to know on instinct the same fact Rory had surmised early on—that he’d only cause Cadence heartache.

Even though her father had had harsh words for him, Rory respected the man who’d grown up a sharecropper’s son but made good on his life.

His heart went out to the family for their loss and his thoughts often wound to Cadence in the months since, wondering how she was handling the news.

Being in Cattle Barge and thinking about the past caused memories of his parents’ volatile marriage to resurface. Heavy weights bore down on his shoulders and it was doing nothing to improve his sour mood.

To make matters worse, Christmas was around the corner. He’d lost touch with his sister, Renee, who was the only other sane person in the family. She’d split at seventeen years old, and then he took off shortly after. The holidays made him think about her, wonder where she was now and if she was happy.

Rory shook off the emotions wrapping a heavy blanket around him. No good ever came of thinking about his family or the empty holiday he faced being alone. He reminded himself that it was his choice to be by himself. He had no use for distractions.

He performed a mental headshake in hopes of clearing his mind. Surveying the campsite again, he skimmed the area for signs of people. It was cold tonight and he doubted the warmth from the fire would be enough. A piece of material meant to secure the tent flapped with the wind. Inside, it was empty.

Rory rolled a few times on the cold earth. His movement stealth-like and with purpose. This vantage point allowed him a better view inside the small tent. There were two sleeping bags that had been placed next to each other inside.

Being back on Butler land made him think about the time he and Cadence had stayed up all night talking in her father’s barn. It was the first time he realized his feelings were careening out of control. Because staying up all night with a woman to talk had never held a lot of appeal before her. Cadence was the perfect mix of intelligence, sass and sense of humor. She was always on the go and sometimes acted before she thought something through, but her heart was always in the right place. His chest clutched while he thought about her. He needed to stop himself right there. That was the past. She was the past. The best way to end up thrown from his horse was to keep looking backward.

Besides, nothing could be changed and he’d only end up with a crick in his neck.

A log crackled, sending another round of burning embers into the air. Rory hoped like hell the couple who’d lit it didn’t have plans to go to sleep with the blaze still going, if there was a couple. There was no accounting for lack of skill and knowledge. If this was a situation with inexperienced campers they might not even realize they’d set up on private property. A place as massive as Hereford was impossible to cordon off completely from the outside world, even though security would be tighter following Mr. Butler’s murder.

Rory changed position again, moving stealthily along the tree line near the lake. He crouched behind the trunk of a mesquite tree, watching, waiting. A blast of frigid air penetrated straight through his winter jacket. It was twelve in the morning, which could be considered early or late, depending on point of view. Tomorrow was supposed to be even colder. The mornings were already crisp and the forecast said a cold front was moving in for Christmas Eve in five days.

He shouldn’t complain. This was nothing compared to December weather in Wyoming. Forty degrees was practically a heat wave.

The twenty-hours-straight drive had tied Rory’s muscles into knots. They were screaming to be stretched. Exhaustion and cold slowed his reflexes. He’d have to take that into account if he confronted the campers.

Protecting the Butler property took top priority for reasons he didn’t want to examine. He’d known the family since he was a kid. His father had worked in the barn for part of Rory’s childhood before blowing up at his boss and getting fired. Rory had plenty of fond memories of spending time with the twins, Dalton and Dade. The Butler boys had treated him like one of them from the very beginning. That was most likely the reason he felt compelled to take this job and why he felt so damn guilty for having the fling with Cadence.

Rory could rest later when he turned over the bad guys and collected his paycheck.

At this time of night, the campers should have been in their tent. The wind had picked up and Rory was certain the temperature had dropped ten degrees in the last hour.

Moving silently along the perimeter of their camp, he repositioned away from the water, noting that this location was a little too close to the Butler home for comfort.

A noise on the opposite side, the place where he’d first set up, caught his attention. Rory flattened his body against the cold hard earth. Wind whipped the fire around as he flexed and released his fingers to keep blood flowing.

A man came into view of the firelight. He had to be roughly five feet ten inches, if Rory had to guess, a good four inches shorter than him. The guy had on jogging pants, tennis shoes and a dark hoodie. A smallish dog—on closer inspection, it looked like a beagle mix—trotted behind City Guy’s heels. That was bad news for Rory because the dog would pick up his scent and give away his location. Even with the fierce winds, it was only a matter of time before the beagle found him.

To avoid that fiasco, he would make himself known. He hopped to his feet and moved about fifteen feet closer before making a loud grunting noise to call attention to his presence. He needed a good reason to be out there alone this time of night...

“Dammit,” he said loudly as he stalked out of the shadows, making as much noise as one man could without a herd of elephants behind him. “I seem to have lost my hunting knife. It was a present from my girlfriend and things haven’t been so great between us lately. I really don’t want to have to go home and explain that. There’s no chance you’ve seen it, is there?”