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Honduras
Somewhere deep in the Comayagua mountains
Tari wiped at the sweat, which streamed down her face. Pointless really for nothing would stop it. Her body ached with every motion she made. Standing up she stretched her back, using her hands to help alleviate the pressure. She leaned on the makeshift hoe and stared around. She’d made progress in the garden despite the fatigue she battled against.
It had been a big difference going from sleeping on a real bed to a hammock and she now paid the price. It happened every year, like every year it got harder and harder to make the transition. For some reason she’d been unable to shake this exhaustion. Normally it didn’t take too long for her to fall into the swing of things, wherever she ended up. But this time...it was different.
She felt different. All the way around.
Ignoring that she watched the village girls who’d volunteered to help her on this Saturday to finish the garden. Snippets of their conversations floated along the muggy air to her ears. The pounding of hammers dragged her attention to where the men built a school. They were roofing it today and with a sigh, she turned back to her own job.
Time blended since she arrived, weather grew hotter, and Tari found despite the familiarity of what she did, her nerves were remained wound tight. Nights were the hardest for she kept seeing those men who took over her ship coming for her. As much as she could, she hid the evidence of her exhaustion but she knew others knew.
One day while she sat at the base of a large tree watching the children play she came to the realization. She wanted a home to go to. But that wasn’t all. She wanted someone to share it with.
How long could a person continue to run from their past? After all, she’d spent most of her adult life getting people to face their past, their demons, and then move forward. Why couldn’t she take her own advice and do just that?
Surely she could. Couldn’t she?
Her mind drifted to her cousin, James, the reason she lived how she did. Leaving no trace of movements. Her one constant continued to be the winter stint in Minnesota. Surely, he’d given up on finding her by now. It had been years.
Despite the warmth of the day, she shivered with cold chills at the memory of his touch. He was proof not all men of the cloth were good. What she really wanted was to go home. Back to the beauty that made up her beloved state of Georgia. The home she’d been taken from when her parents had been jerked from this earth.
But she knew he watched for her. So the few times she lived in the States, she resided in a snow-filled area. Perhaps...now was the time to make it back home. Claim what is hers and learn to live her life without fear. Then again, why not make her life here. It had lots of beauty and she enjoyed the people.
“Ms. Taryn!” a voice yelled, dragging her gaze from the children before her to the side.
Emalia ran in her direction. Brunette pigtails bounced with every step.
She smiled and waited for the child to brake to a stop beside her. “Hola, Emalia. ¿Qué tal?”
The child didn’t sit her eyes wide with uncertainty. “Los hombres vienen. Hombres extraños.”
Strange men were coming. Her heart plummeted past the pit of her stomach as she jumped to her feet and called the kids to her instantly. Sending them to hide in the woods, she ran back to the camp, praying each step she took that this wasn’t what she feared it could be.
She passed moms and more children heading off, a few grabbed her hand, but she shook them off continuing on to the village. They’d had a few run-ins with some of the rebels but for the most part, the village was deemed a neutral area and left alone. Still, they opted on the side of caution.
Tari paused beside the priest who she’d arrived with. Father Benedict. A kind man with a generous heart.
“Child,” he said his accent thick. “You should be hiding with the other women, just in case.”
“Nonsense. I’m not leaving you.” Brave words aside, fear drenched her from head to toe. She swallowed desperate to get moisture in her mouth. “Did anyone identify the men?”
“No markings. Carrying weapons though.” Father Benedict fingered the cross he wore around his neck before lowering his hands and clasping them together. The man appeared entirely serene. He walked on silent feet back to the unfinished building his white hair gleaming in the sun.
This is a neutral village. She followed Father Benedict and continued to tell herself that, over and over, as they continued to work on the nearly finished school.
Father Benedict’s sharp breath told her they were no longer alone and when he called out a greeting, she took a moment to wipe the dirt off her hands and gather herself. Then, she too, went outside.
Five men in green camouflage stood there, holding weapons she had no chance of identifying. She also couldn’t identify any marks on what they wore to ascertain which side they were on. Some of the other men from the village stood beside her, as if offering protection. She refused to cower when the leader raked his gaze over her.
“¡Ven acá!” he demanded with a rough gesture.
Smoothing her hands upon her thin cotton pants, she inhaled deeply and did as commanded. No reason to cause problems.
“Yes?”
He jutted his chin, covered with scraggled black hair, out at her, his teeth had seen better days but she didn’t cower. “You Señorita Jeffers?”
The thought of lying surfaced but she ignored it. Surely if they came all this way they well knew who she was.
“Yes.”
“You come with us.”
She shook her head slightly before she caught herself. “Why?”
“Some people send us for you.”
The hair on the back of her neck prickled. No one knew she was here. From the corner of her eye, she saw Father Benedict step toward them.
“Who sent you for me?”
He chewed on his toothpick, eyes unwavering. “Family.”
James. Panic surged. How had he tracked her deep in the mountains of Honduras? It didn’t matter. If she refused, the people here could be hurt. She could figure out what to do on the way to the coast.
“Let me get my things.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “It’ll just be a moment.”
Father Benedict walked with her. “Child, are you sure about this?”
“No, but there isn’t much choice. I figure I can go easy or they can take me back. This way, no one gets hurt.” She gulped. “That’s the important thing.”
“What about you, child?”
She hugged him tight, his scent comforting her. “I’ll be fine. Give my love to—
A loud noise came from outside her small hut startling both of them. Bag forgotten she hurried out into the afternoon sun and froze. The five men were now nine talking amongst themselves. And the men with them...well; she couldn’t help the smile which crossed her face.
Galen stood there with Ryder, Byrd, and Razor. He was having a discussion with the others but broke it off when he spotted her. He looked tired, sweaty, and the most perfect thing in the world. His face was streaked black and green but it didn’t matter.
She knew him, from the carriage of his posture to the way his piercing gaze made her insides quiver with more than just longing. He strode toward her, gun clutched in one large hand, moving with deadly precision to her.
Beside her, Father Benedict spoke but the words didn’t register. All her attention settled on the man nearing her. Every inch the warrior, he sucked the very breath from her lungs.
He didn’t slow, didn’t stop to ask for permission just took one dirty hand, and shoved it through her hair, capturing the back of her head and slanted his mouth over hers.
She tasted sweat, passion, and Galen. In that moment, she knew what her life missed. Him. No hesitation, she threw her arms around his neck and responded with everything she had inside her. Content in the knowledge with him here, she would be fine.
His other arm circled her waist and lifted her off her feet. He swept through her mouth with his tongue. Tasting all corners. Stroking along her tongue. She ached for him, burned where his fingers touched her.
Touching his face, she drew back and he put her down on the ground, remnants of his face paint on her fingers. Past him, she could see the men who’d come with him watching with grins on their faces. On the sides, in her peripheral, she saw the villagers had returned and Father Benedict stood there holding Galen’s assault rifle.
She bit back a chuckle but merely snuggled closer when he retrieved it from the man of God. He tipped her chin up and she immediately drowned in his quicksilver gaze.
Everyone else moved closer and she pulled her attention from Galen for the moment. These guys knew one another.
“I’m sorry for scaring you, Senorita Jeffers,” the leader of the other group said.
“It’s okay,” she replied for lack of anything better to say.
What was she going to do, rail at him? It didn’t matter now. She had Galen beside her, his strong arm securing her to his side. After a while, they were left alone and she turned so they were toe to toe.
“What are you doing here, Galen? What are they doing here?”
He slung his gun over one shoulder and put both hands on her face. “I called in a few favors and they came along.” He shrugged it off and blinked before spearing her with his mercurial gaze. “Do you know you’ve left me three times now, sweetheart?”
She opened her mouth only to shut it when he placed two fingers over her lips.
“The first was when we were kids. The second, after the ship. The third in Minnesota. I can’t take it anymore, Tari. I’ve tried to tell myself that the past is best left locked away but you convinced me otherwise. You’ve helped me and my brother.”
His thumb trailed her lower lip while his other hand cupped the back of her head.
“After you left Minnesota, I was asked by a very astute eleven year old what it was that I desired.”
Her heart pounded so hard she figured it was about to burst out of her chest. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt.
“And?” she asked on a whisper, her heart thundering in the confines of her chest.
Galen held her gaze, his eyes shining with conviction. “I desire you. Wherever you are is where we want to be. I want to fall asleep with you, wake with you. I want to be with the woman who taught me to feel. The one who makes my life more.”
His words humbled her. She kissed the pad of his thumb before she said, “Where’s Chad?”
Galen flashed a smile, which melted her knees. “With Baby Boy and his family. He’s waiting for me to bring you home.”
“Home?” What she’d wanted for so long.
He nodded. “Home.”
There were so many things she needed to tell him. About her past. About James. “I need to tell—”
“Tari. We have the rest of our lives to figure things out. Marry me.”
She never looked away from his face just read his expression. In it, she found what she needed. Love. Then she heard those words she’d never thought a man would say to her and mean them truthfully.
“I love you, Tari. Say you’ll marry me.”
“Yes.” She blinked back the tears. “Yes.”
His kiss this time bespoke forever. And for her, that may be just enough time. Then again, maybe not. As their kiss continued she wondered if it was odd she thanked the pirates who’d captured her and allowed her to be reunited with a man—who’d always been in her heart, the man who desired her—on the high seas.
The End
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Thank you for reading one of my Tungsten Protective Services stories. If you would like to jump into to any of the others in the series. Also putting down the cover for the first story in the series, Down Range.
He may save her life but can her heart be saved from his past betrayal?
Buy Link: https://books2read.com/downrange
