stomach roiled as he recalled the scene and the memories of another very similar crime involving the deaths of his wife and young daughter.
His fingers balled into fists and he rose halfway out of his seat, ready to take on the world. “Yeah, I killed a man, what’s it to you?”
Big Tex shrugged. “Just wondering.”
“I read about it. Davis was a sick bastard into hurting little girls. I’d have done the same,” the man called Zach said.
“You gave him what he deserved,” Thorn agreed. “Why waste money on a system that would have turned him loose to do it again?”
The starch taken out of his fight, Ben sat back against the soft brown leather of the wingback chair. He was disappointed he wouldn’t have a brawl to release all the tension balled up in his gut since he’d arrived. At least now he felt more of a kinship with the others in the room.
Hank’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “You are all highly trained in your fields, and because of your various circumstances find yourselves unemployed.”
Ben snorted. “Unemployable.”
“Wrong.” Hank’s lips spread into a smile. “I’m here to offer you a position in a start-up corporation.”
“Doing what? Sweeping floors? Who wants a bunch of rejects?” Zach asked.
“I need you.” Hank rose from his chair. “Because you aren’t rejects, you’re just the type of men I’m looking for. Men who will fight for what you believe in, who were born or raised on a ranch, with the ethics and strength of character of a good cowboy. I’m inviting you to become a part of CCI, known only to those on the inside as Covert Cowboys, Inc., a specialized team of citizen soldiers, bodyguards, agents and ranch hands who will do whatever it takes to see justice served.”
“Whoa, back up a step there. Covert Cowboys, Inc.?” Big Tex slapped his hat against his thigh. “Sounds kind of corny to me. What’s the punch line?”
“No punch line.” Hank stood taller, his broad shoulders filling the room, the steel in his eyes indisputable. The man was on the up-and-up. “Let’s just say that I’m tired of justice being swept under the rug.”
Ben shook his head. “I’m not into vigilante justice, or circumventing the law.”
“I’m not asking you to. The purpose of Covert Cowboys, Inc. is to provide covert protection and investigation services where hired guns and the law aren’t enough.” Hank’s gaze swept over each of the men in the room. “I handpicked each of you because you are all highly skilled soldiers, cops and agents who know how to work hard, fire a gun and are familiar with living on the edge of danger. But mostly because of your high moral standards. You know right from wrong and aren’t afraid to right the wrongs. My plan is to inject you into situations where your own lives could be on the line to protect, rescue or ferret out the truth.”
Ben stood, his body tense, his first reaction to the older man’s words to leave and never look back. “I’m not a vigilante, despite what the news says.”
“I’m not hiring you to be one,” Hank said. “I’m asking you to join CCI as a protector, a man willing to fight for truth.”
“Truth, huh?” Zach said. “It’s hard to find people who care about truth anymore.”
Hank’s lips thinned. “My point, exactly.”
“Tell me, why should I work for you?” Ben asked.
The older man’s shoulders straightened and he looked directly into Ben’s eyes. “I care about truth and justice.” He walked to the desk in the corner and lifted four folders. The first he held out to Ben. “Are you in?”
What did he have to lose? Ben had nothing to go back to in Austin. No job, no family. Nothing. Against his better judgment, Ben nodded. “I’m in.”
Hank handed him the folder. “Your first assignment is on the other side of the county working undercover on the Flying K Ranch. As far as everyone else knows, you’re hiring on as a ranch hand. Your job is to help get the ranch operational, but most of all to protect the woman who just inherited it.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“Don’t count on it. This county is in need of cleanup. I’m hoping you gentlemen will be the men to help in that effort. It’s our first challenge for CCI.” Hank stared at the other men. “Who else chooses to take on the challenge?”
One by one the men threw their hats in the ring and grabbed a folder.
Ben opened the file and stared down at the image of a beautiful woman with long strawberry-blond hair, green eyes and skin as pale and smooth as porcelain. His gut told him he was stepping into waters way over his head. What did he know about providing protection to a woman? He’d been a street cop, not a bodyguard. Hell, he hadn’t been able to protect his own family. A knot of regret twisted in him, but he asked, “When do I start?”
“Tonight. Grab your gear and get on over there, she should have arrived today.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “You were sure I’d take the job?”
“If not you, I’d be out there doing it myself. Don’t get me wrong. I won’t ask any of you to do anything I wouldn’t be willing to do myself.”
Ben clapped his hat on his head and headed for the door. It was a job. He didn’t have to like it; he just had to do it until he found something else.
“‘THE COW DOG saved the little girl and became her very best friend. The end.’” Kate Langsdon closed the book and set it on Lily’s nightstand. “Now it’s time for little girls to go to sleep.” She leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead, her heart squeezing in her chest with the amount of love she felt for this pint-size person with the long, loose curls of silky, strawberry-blond hair, much like her own.
“Mommy?” Lily yawned and rubbed her emerald-green eyes. “Can I have a cow dog?”
“Sure, sweetie. Just as soon as we can find one as good as Jess the cow dog.” Kate switched the light off on the nightstand and straightened her aching back, got up and headed into the bathroom. The past few days had been strenuous and emotionally draining, the amount of work taking the spunk right out of her. She’d driven from Houston to Wild Oak Canyon, Texas, cleaned a house that had been standing empty for two months, emptied as much as she could of the moving van she’d rented and poked through the belongings of a man she’d never known and never would.
Her father.
Tears welled in Kate’s eyes. For years, she’d thought her father dead. All this time, the man had been living in South Texas on a ranch near Big Bend National Park.
Kate dug her hand in her pocket and thumbed the key she’d received a week ago in an envelope from an attorney, including a letter, last will and testament and one corrupt video disk. The day that package arrived everything in Kate’s life had changed.
She pulled the key from her pocket and tossed it into her makeup kit, stripped out of her dirty jeans and climbed into the shower. She stood for a long time as the warm spray washed down over her body, releasing the stiffness from her shoulders and tempering the
