Suzanne Cox - One Man To Protect Them

“Hang on to the horse.”

Across from him, he saw Jeffrey take hold of the twitch.

“No!” He and Jayden said it at the same time. Jayden scrambled to her feet.

“Let me get him settled.” Luke glanced at her then he rubbed the horse’s head.

The two vets waited as he rubbed Thor’s ears, talking to him in a low voice. For several minutes no one moved, then the stallion sighed audibly, and Luke motioned for Jeffrey to begin. He heard Jayden mumble “horse whisperer” and he winked at her. She came closer and stroked the animal’s neck.

“What’s his name?”

The horse flinched as Jeffrey went to work on him and Luke made a soft grunting noise near his ear.

“Thor.”

She touched the dark red coat. “God of law and order, champion of the people. Not a name I’d have expected you to choose.”

He tried not to wince. Normally, Luke didn’t care what people, especially a woman, thought of him. But something about her bothered him, maybe even touched him. He couldn’t afford to think like that.

“I didn’t name him. He was found by the humane society. I took him in.”

“So you’re a horse rehabilitator and defender of scum. Those two don’t seem to go together.”

“Jayden!” Jeffrey groaned. “Sorry, Luke. Jayden’s had a tough month. She’s on edge.”

She stared at the floor after Jeffrey’s reprimand. As rude as she’d been to him, Luke felt bad for her. Maybe it was because she was so perceptive. Of course he’d named the horse himself.

“Don’t worry, Jeffrey. I don’t mind Ms. Miller. We met yesterday and I’m more than happy to hear her opinions.”

She gaped at him. He didn’t plan on smiling at her, but he did. And he certainly hadn’t expected to see her smile back at him. For the next few minutes while Jeffrey finished closing the cuts they remained on each side of Thor’s head, stroking him.

“All right, I’m finished and Thor was great.”

Luke ripped his attention from Jayden back to Thor. “Bill me, will you. I’m off to find a new lock for my gate.”

He led the horse to the trailer and loaded him. Jeffrey and Jayden were still standing at the barn door when he got in his truck. Even with his back to them he could feel her watching him. He tried to convince himself it was his training that made him so perceptive of her.

THE OUTBOARD MOTOR reverberated through the night air, and he wondered if the entire world could hear it. He always wondered that, but no one ever seemed to notice him. Luke steered toward the opposite side of the Mississippi. When the bank came into sight he slowed and nosed the boat into a tributary that emptied into the river. He went upstream a few hundred feet to a sandy spot then bumped ashore and tied off to a nearby tree. He didn’t bother with a flashlight. He didn’t need light to get where he was going. He preferred it to be darker—in fact, he wished there were clouds to cover the moon’s glow. After ten minutes, the path he was following opened into a clearing with a wooden shack in the middle. A thin stream of light shone from under the door. He climbed the steps and knocked. Hearing a low voice answer, he went inside, wishing it didn’t feel so natural, so normal.

“Damned mess we got now.”

Joseph Bergeron sat in a metal folding chair in the dim glow of the light bulb hanging from the ceiling, a red plastic cup on the card table in front of him within easy reach. He grabbed the cup and spit, his lower lip bulged slightly with freshly ground tobacco.

Luke dropped into the metal chair across from him and it gave a squeaky protest. “I told you to leave the reporter alone, that he wouldn’t disappear so easily.”

“You think I gave the okay for this? Hell, I’m not that stupid. I’d at least have gotten everything he had on us before I did away with him.” Joseph rested his arms on the table. “And I would have known better than to get that idiot Duke Swayze to tend to business.”

“He’s a member of the Militia and he doesn’t mind doing a piece of work. Why wouldn’t you use him?”

“Come on, he’s crazy as a Betsy bug. Look at what we’ve got now. They found how many bodies at his place?”

“Four.” Luke tried to stay calm. The memory of that day made him sick, and also brought to mind that damned goddess of a vet, the woman he was doing his best to forget.

“Right, four. Now doesn’t that make your job a lot harder?”

“Yeah, it does. But if you didn’t tell him to do this, who did? I doubt he came up with the idea on his own.”

Joseph watched him, and Luke met his stare without faltering. He’d had enough practice at this. Besides, the Militia trusted him.

“There are others who didn’t want that reporter to get away from here with whatever he might have found. We’re working on a big project with another Militia group. We don’t need this kind of attention. We haven’t brought you in on this yet.” Joseph scrutinized him for several seconds. “Maybe later.”

Luke dipped his head slightly in agreement. Okay, they didn’t trust him that much. These things took time.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get ole Duke off?” Joseph asked.

“I don’t know. He’s not much help, spouting off crazy stuff every time the police question him, but I’ll do what I can.”

Joseph tapped the table before getting to his feet. “We’ll take care of things on our end. We like having you in the community helping us.”

“Glad to do it. I only wish I could do more.”

Joseph went to the door, cracked it open and checked outside.

“You’re doing what we need right now.” He glanced at Luke. “Give me five minutes then leave.” The man closed the door and was gone.

Luke sank deeper into the chair. What kind of project were they planning? He had a hunch who they were working with, but he couldn’t get deeper into the ring of secrecy that surrounded the Acadian Loyalists, not yet. The Militia made their base camp across the river from Cypress Landing. Their members were scattered around the area. Some were like him, businesspeople doing whatever job they could to aid the cause, but keeping their affiliation hidden. Others, such as Duke Swayze, were open with their zealous beliefs. The leadership had a use for each. He stretched to switch off the light, letting his vision get accustomed to the dark. His watch gave an eerie glow, reading one in the morning. Ten minutes had passed and he had another meeting to make on the other side of town.

FIFTEEN BASEBALL PLAYERS, all about ten years old, fidgeted in front of him. When most kids were playing soccer or enjoying the first few months of school with absolutely no other activities, those truly dedicated to this sport started a new season. Luke hadn’t been able to help pick the team a few days ago, but his coaching partner, Pete Fontenot, appeared to have done a nice job. They’d gotten several of the best players in the area. He knew because he’d coached both seasons for two years. The fact that his usual coaching partner was a sheriff’s deputy had been a stroke of luck for him. Joseph Bergeron had been pleased when Luke and Pete had started coaching together…as soon as he stopped laughing. “You’re good, Taylor, really good,” the man had said. And he was, but he worked hard at being good. It kept him alive.

As Pete told them their practice and game schedule, Luke waited quietly beside him. Five of the boys on this team had been with them in the spring. At the rear of the group he spotted Elliot Casio. He was big for his age and Luke was glad to see him. After his parents died, the boy hadn’t been sure if he and his little brother would stay in Cypress Landing. Elliot was a polite kid and bit of a star in the league, but Luke was positive he dealt with mean-spirited comments at school, especially from kids whose parents were deeply ingrained in the Militia. Elliot’s parents had adopted him and his brother and their racial origin was mixed—white, black, American-Indian, Asian. But the Casios had been doing an excellent job raising them, and the community, at least the real community and not the Militia, never gave their race a second thought. They were the Casio kids, the end. Unfortunately he’d been assigned to the case of the drunken idiot, a Militia member, who’d caused the crash that killed Caitland and Robert. Luke would have loved to see him in jail for vehicular manslaughter, but the evidence that the guy had been drunk disappeared and there was no case to be won or lost. It wasn’t his fault…but the kids’ aunt obviously thought so.