Nerves hummed under Delilah’s skin as she eyed the pickups parked in the grassy area ahead of her. There were easily twice as many as there had been at the campfire. Surely, they weren’t all here for Mary’s wedding. Then she noticed the targets on the far side of the pond. Right. The militia gathering people had been talking about that night. Which meant every man present would be armed.
As Josh had previously, she parked at the end of a row so she could make a quick exit, then grabbed her knife from the glove box and slid it into her pocket. She wished she had her Glock, but this was better than nothing.
She spotted Wells several rows away, accompanied by a long-haired guy toting a professional video camera. Wells smoothed a hand over his wrinkled dress shirt and attempted to straighten his clip-on tie as she approached.
“Thanks for coming.” She didn’t like the guy, but necessity made strange bedfellows. “Stay out of sight and wait for my signal. I don’t want to do anything to spook the crowd. They’ll all be armed.”
Wells exchanged glances with the videographer, then nodded. She wanted to deliver more warnings, but movement on the platform caught her attention.
She threaded her way to where the crowd gathered in chairs and sprawled on blankets facing a makeshift platform by the pond. There had to be over a hundred people. The men wore camo gear, weapons on their hips, the women the usual long skirts, and children scampered about. She wasn’t surprised to see Nate, Eli Foster, and John Henry on the platform, but where was Aaron? And what were John Henry and Nate arguing about?
She was searching for Mary when Mama suddenly appeared, slowly making her way toward the platform, eyes darting around nervously. The crowd shifted, and Delilah finally spotted her sister standing off to one side. She wore a long-sleeved, high-necked white bridal gown, a spray of cheap carnations held in shaking hands.
Everything in her wanted to burst from the tree line and spirit her away, but she took a calming breath and bided her time. She needed the element of surprise.
John Henry scowled at Mama and then at Nate, who ignored him as he walked to the portable sound system and smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d take your seats, we’ll get started.”
The hellfire preacher who’d terrified Delilah as a child marched up onto the platform, Eli beside him.
Delilah scanned the area, heart rate kicking up. She still hadn’t seen Aaron.
Pastor Robbins repositioned the microphone. “Marriage is a sacred institution,” he began, and Delilah’s palms started to sweat.
Nate motioned to John Henry, who took Mary’s arm. Her sister flinched, then scanned the crowd, panic etched in her features. Delilah searched the trees behind her again, but there was still no sign of Josh or the rest of the squad.
Robbins pulled out his Bible. “In Genesis, we read…”
Delilah tuned him out and watched Wells and his videographer inch closer and then heard a telltale thwump thwump faintly in the distance. She spotted the chopper, closing in fast.
“…and so it shall ever be,” she heard Robbins say. “With these words in mind, dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”
Delilah couldn’t wait another second.
She marched up onto the stage and faced Eli, whose eyes flashed at the sight of her.
Shocked gasps rippled through the crowd.
She glanced down and saw her mother’s encouraging nod, then winked at Mary.
“What are you doing here?” Nate demanded. Dressed in camouflage gear and an ammunition vest, he looked ready to go hunting. Eli Foster was also in camo, minus the vest.
Delilah lifted her chin and raised her voice. “I’m waiting for the part where the preacher asks if anyone has any reason to object. Because I definitely do.” She met Nate’s furious gaze. “As does the bride.”
The videographer inched closer, his camera on his shoulder.
She turned to Eli. “I warned you at the Mayor’s Ball, but you wouldn’t listen. Mary is sixteen years old, and she doesn’t want to marry you or anyone else right now. And she’s not going to.”
“You can’t walk in here and tell us what to do,” Nate hissed.
“Oh yes, I can.” The helicopter popped into view beyond the tree line, and the crowd gasped, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. “What you’re trying to do is not only wrong, it’s against the law. And just so we’re clear”—she nodded toward the videographer, then the chopper—“cameras are rolling.” Delilah speared Nate with a furious glance. “How successful will your secret militia be once everyone knows you force young girls into so-called marriages for the sake of your alliances?” She held out her hand to her sister. “Come with me, Mary. You don’t have to do this.”
There was a moment of stunned silence as Delilah walked toward her sister, whose eyes widened before a shy smile spread across her face. John Henry glared at the cameraman.
Two steps before she reached her sister, Mary shouted, “Behind you!”
Delilah spun around as Nate made a grab for her.
“What do you think you’re doing, Wife? You should be at home, as I requested.”
She sidestepped him, fury in every line. “Requested? You tied me to a chair!”
The helicopter moved closer, camera visible through the open door.
“Tell them to turn the cameras off.”
“Not going to happen. Mary will get married when she decides to get married. Today is not that day.”
Delilah kept her eyes on Nate’s, so she was ready when he growled, “You’re mine,” and lunged for her again.
She waited until his hands reached for her neck, then brought her foot up and kicked him in the balls with everything she had. She landed the shot perfectly, and he dropped to the ground and whimpered, curled in on himself.
Delilah propped her hands on her hips, breath heaving as she glared down at him. “I am not your wife. I never was.”
Josh approached from the trees, his weapon steady on Nate. He stepped onto the platform, deadly calm. “Get up.”
Nate shot daggers at Delilah as he slowly stumbled to his feet, muttering curses. Once he was upright, Josh holstered his weapon, pulled his arm back, and punched him in the jaw with enough force to toss him back on the ground. “That’s for Delilah.” When Nate tried to get to his feet again, Josh growled, “This time, stay down.” Then he turned to Delilah, grinned with pride. “Nice going, Xena.”
She smiled back. “About time you got here, Hollywood.”
As Josh issued instructions, a flash of movement caught her eye, and she spotted Aaron heading straight for Mary. “Oh hell no,” she muttered and ran toward him. She intercepted him before he could grab her sister and yelled, “Run, Mary!”
That quick glance toward her sister was all it took for Aaron to wrap his arm around Delilah’s neck from behind and put a gun to her temple. “I won’t let you ruin everything.”
He spun her around as a shield, and she saw Josh walking toward them, weapon raised, voice hard. “Drop the weapon, Aaron. It’s over.”
“This is an important alliance, a movement for liberty. The government has no right to intervene.”
“We do when the girl is underage and you’re here with a crowd of people and piles of illegal weapons,” Josh said. Until that moment, Delilah hadn’t even noticed the open weapon crates in front of the platform.
Worried murmurs passed through the crowd as Hunter, Sanchez, and Fish approached from different directions, all with their weapons drawn.
“Drop your weapons or I’ll shoot her. I mean it,” Aaron warned.
Delilah’s heart pounded, but she kept her eyes on Josh, waiting for some signal, some way to help him. She knew he couldn’t fire without risking shooting her by mistake.
His gaze never wavered. “Last chance, Atwood. Let. Her. Go.”
The crowd shifted nervously, several men reaching behind their backs. In the distance, they heard sirens.
Hunter raised his voice to be heard above the murmurs. “We don’t want anyone hurt. Put your weapons down and stay seated. Hands behind your heads. Now.”
“I’m leaving, and she’s coming with me. Try to stop me and I’ll shoot her!” Aaron shouted.
As he started dragging her backward, Delilah suddenly remembered an escape trick he’d taught her when they were children. She turned her head and bit down on his bicep, hard.
“Ow!” As he shifted his grip to shake her loose, she dropped straight to the ground and stayed in a crouch. She heard a shot, then Aaron stumbled backward and fell.
“Stay where you are, Atwood,” Josh growled, moving closer. “You’re under arrest.”
“You shot me, you stupid fish cop.”
Delilah saw him grip his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Be glad it’s just your shoulder. EMS is en route.”
She scrambled to her feet and smiled at Josh as she ran toward her sister and wrapped her in a bone-crushing hug, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Eli Foster took off running, and over Mary’s shoulder, Delilah saw Sanchez take him down in a flying tackle. John Henry was dragging Mama toward their vehicle when Fish stepped in front of them. “I don’t think so, sir.”
Hunter stood on the platform, eyes on the crowd as law enforcement vehicles converged on the scene. She saw FWC, sheriff’s office, and even a couple of people with ATF stamped on their shirts approach the crowd.
The cameras kept rolling.
Mary sobbed against her shoulder. “Thank you, thank you! I didn’t think you’d get here in time.”
As Delilah rubbed Mary’s back and murmured soothing words, she met Josh’s eyes over Mary’s shoulder. He winked, and a wave of emotion swept over her.
Mary was safe.