Stranger Mine: a Base Branch novel (14 page)

R
yan melted
into the shadow of the long, narrow building. From his vantage point he could see no windows in the process building. When they’d seen it from the distance he’d expected as much. It likely housed large metal vessels, pipes, and oak barrels filled with fermenting grapes. Shrubs and trees hugged the main house while vines suffocated a pergola that spanned the entire front of the garden house. A row of picture windows looked out onto the vineyard. Luckily, the vegetation helped bank the brilliance pouring through the glass to a dim glow around the immediate grounds.

He’d half guessed the bunkhouse would resemble the prison he’d found Piper chained inside. Windowless. Meager. A bit of hell on earth. As he sidled to the exterior, the richness of the wood caught his attention. It matched the main house. Large panes of glass stretched in five-foot increments across the back. Inch by patient inch, Ryan neared the window made black by the night and a profile that radiated no heat. He switched to night vision, a little trick that came in handy, and moved closer still. On the next inhale, he held his breath, so he wouldn’t fog the window, and peeked inside.

What he saw surprised him more than a room full of Sinaloa members with rocket launchers and grenades.

Bunks lined the walls, leaving a slender aisle down the middle. Each bed held a mattress, covers, and a pillow. And they were all empty. All that he could see anyway. Ryan maneuvered to get a better look. No one hid in the corners. He moved to the next window. And the next. Nothing looked out of character for a farm. A wide brimmed hat hung on a high bedpost. Work gloves drooped over the other at the end of another bed. Boots burrowed beneath another.

Ryan continued on to the end of the building. Wood
smacked
into wood in the direction of the main house, shattering the peaceable silence. rifle up, he moved as fast as his boots would quietly take him to the next corner. He zeroed in on the front of the house, searching for the threat. He found another fucking conundrum.

Matthew Reece stomped from the screen door, or at least, a guy with the same body type. Shoving the monocular from his head, Ryan narrowed his gaze. Then again, maybe not. In the pictures he’d seen of the man they sought, Reece was narrow and pale. This guy mirrored Reece’s height, but thick muscles filled out his chambray shirt and the sun tanned his hide a deep brown. Of course, six months of outdoor labor could do that to anyone.

The guy strode, hands on hips and mouth pursed, to the farthest side of the porch. He shook his head several times and seemed to search the heavens for answers.
If you find any, let me know.
Reece planted a sizable forearm on a pergola column, continuing his search.

Dropping his weapon to its strap around his neck, Ryan bolted for Piper. It would take all the discipline she possessed to see Matthew Reece and not sprint for him. He’d told her to stay. And boy, if this wasn’t the ultimate test of her trust in him.

At the edge of the bunk house he slowed and could have groaned in sweet relief when he saw her outline, laid as he’d left her, under the vines. She peeked out from her cover and met his gaze. Pleading radiated from her features. Her hand gripped the base of a grape plant, as if trying to hold herself in place.

Her expression confirmed it was, indeed, her brother-in-law. Ryan pointed to his gun and motioned it toward his side, showing her his palms. Then he gestured at the house. When she nodded he pick up his rifle and prepared for anything.

T
hump-thump
. Thump-thump. Thump-thump
. Piper’s heart pounded in her ear. Matthew was alive. She swallowed past the desert in her throat, stood on wobbly legs, and adjusted the rifle by her side as Ryan had demonstrated. The first step threatened to topple her, but with each stride her coordination returned. She chanced one last look at Ryan. He didn’t meet her gaze. His focus and rifle barrel were honed on the man on the veranda.

Her pace increased until she emerged from the shadows. Matthew’s head snapped in her direction. His arm fell from the post and he puffed his chest, the breadth of him nearly doubling. He balled his fist. His feet spread in a defensive stance, daring her to come closer.

The man in front of her was Matthew Reece, but not the Matthew she knew. Captivity had changed him. Roughened his smooth manners. Doubled his muscles. Etched a menacing scowl on his face. Gave him a damn fine tan. Now he could actually pass as her blood kin.

Piper took one more step, bringing her features into the light. As if she’d beamed him in the forehead with a billy club, his upper body jerked backward. Frozen, with her stomach in her shoes, she waited. Just as quickly as he lurched, he leaned forward. His hand clamped over his mouth and his head swung in a thin back-and-forth.

She broke in so many ways. The independent girl who didn’t need anyone, much less a man, admitted she wanted two men in her life. The need for control, every and all day, fled in the shattering of the person she’d been. She sprinted across the stone path, up the steps, and launched into Matthew’s arms.

“Piper?” Emotion choked him.

“It’s me, Matt. I can’t believe I found you.” Tears clogged her voice too. She squeezed so hard her muscles quivered.

“How the hell—”

Without finishing the question he ripped her from his chest and shoved her behind him. Had he been his pre-abduction self, he’d have had a hell of a time accomplishing the task. But now strength radiated through him, just like it did with Ryan.

“Matt?” Piper shoved at his back. She wiggled free only because his attention was riveted in front of him.

“Gun,” Matt growled.

Her gaze pivoted to find her lover mid-yard and advancing. She grabbed Matthew’s arm. “He’s with me. He’s the only reason I found you.”

“Not true,” Ryan chimed, still keeping a lock on the door. “How many in the house?”

“What?” Matt barked. His gaze bounded between them.

“We need to move. Now,” Ryan whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Matt took a step toward Ryan, blocking his path. “And you’re not coming up here until you put that damn thing down.”

Piper swore her jaw hit the wooden patio. She’d never seen Matthew get riled about anything. Of course, an assault rifle in your face could give a person cause to rile. But for him to place himself in the path of it baffled her.

“I can’t do that until I know it’s safe,” Ryan said.

“Unless you’re scared of an old man, a woman, and her young son, it’s safe.” Matthew glared.

“What about the Sinaloa’s men?” Piper asked.

“They don’t come here often, only once since the day they dropped me off.” Matthew’s tone sharpened.

“Where are the workers?” Ryan pressed.

“Home with their families,” he answered.

Ryan eased the M4 to his side, but kept it within easy reach. Piper struggled to control her tongue because that jaw on the floor thing happened again. “There are no guards here. You’re not chained to a wall or locked in a cell. And you’re still here?” Hysteria bubbled into her mouth and spewed out in her shrill tone.

“It’s complicated,” Matt explained, without explaining a damn thing.

“Explain it on the way. Let’s move. We still have a hell of a journey out of here.” Ryan rolled his wrist. “Come on.”

Piper grabbed Matt’s hand and tugged. He didn’t budge. She turned her gaze to his hazel eyes. His stance relaxed and the severity bled from his face. His mouth curved in a sweet, sad smile. “I’m not leaving, Piper.”

Her heart plummeted, meeting up with her stomach in her boots. “Why not?” she croaked.

“It’s complicated,” he said again.

“Complicated? No shit, it’s complicated. You were nabbed by a cartel and I’ve killed people to find you!” Piper roared.

“Not taken,” he hollered. His widened shoulders lurched in her direction and loomed. The pink of fresh sunburn darkened with his anger, going molten red. “Sold by the person I loved most in the world.”

Shock made her release him. He knew. She’d worried about how to tell him, but he already knew about the betrayal. Tears streamed in earnest against her cheek and she batted them away only to have them replaced by fresh ones.

“Back away from her, Reece.” Ryan’s quiet voice whispered across the distance, chilling with its simple menace.

Matt stumbled back. He grabbed his forehead, ruffling the floppy front of his once prim haircut. The brown hair, made lighter by the sun, curtained over his fingers. “You killed people. When? Why?”

As it had when Matthew exited onto the porch, the screen door slammed back against the house. Their heads snapped in its direction. Ryan’s gun came up.

A young boy’s sweet voice wafted though the air, “Matt, lo siento.”

Matthew exploded, “No!” He launched himself between Ryan’s aim and a nine or ten year old boy. But her lover had already lowered the sights.

The kid’s almond colored eyes went wide. Shock and fear distorted his features. Matt scooped the kid into his arms and gave Ryan his back.

“It’s down,” Piper reassured. “It was down before he was through the door. Ryan would never hurt a child. Never.”

Those small, light-brown eyes swung in her direction. His lips pursed, and then curved. “Are you Piper?”

Matt canted his head at the kid, leveling their gazes. “How do you know that?”

It was her turn to have wide eyes, because that was one of the thousands of questions she wanted answered.

The child’s eyes veered back to Ryan and he waved. “When you talk about your family you talk about her. One time you said she had hair the color of the bronze Olympic medal. And she has that color hair. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your family, so it makes sense she’d come visit. But why do they have guns?” Before anyone could answer, he rushed on. “I’m sorry I made you upset, but I still want you to be my papa. Yeah, you have a family in the United States, but we love you more. Momma takes care of you and the other day I saw her kiss you on the mouth. That means she loves you.”

Matthew hugged the kid to his chest. His gaze jumped between her and Ryan. “Complicated doesn’t begin to cover all of this. Come inside. We’ll have coffee and talk, after I put Manuel to sleep.” Matt stepped toward the door. “Where are your momma and grandpa?” he asked the boy.

The boy’s head shot up. “Mom’s in the back, cleaning the kitchen. I’m not tired.”

“Then tomorrow you’ll have to work harder.” He ruffled Manuel’s brunette curls and stepped to the screen.

Ryan hustled up the steps. His hot fingers skimmed her face. The contact broke her dumbfounded trance on her brother-in-law and the boy. She nearly fell into Ryan’s embrace, burrowing against his chest. Piper clung to the fabric of his shirt for dear life, absorbing his strength and reassurance.

“More and more complicated,” Matt said. He held the door open and wiggled a brow at her.

“You have no idea,” Ryan countered.

“
S
anta María
, Madre de Dios.” Gabriella marked herself with the sign of the cross. “Such bravery.”

“I’m going to vote stupidity.” The parenthesis on either side of Matthew’s mouth deepened. His jaw sawed and his eyes glistened. “I can’t believe you did all that for me.” He ran a hand over his face, held his breath for a minute, and then blew it out. “Thank you.”

Piper nodded to keep from crying again.

The four of them sat on the veranda in a semi-circle, her and Ryan side-by-side facing the unseen vines. Matt and Gabriella faced each other at opposite ends of a coffee table. Señor Varrera, the old man whose family had owned the farm for five generations, and Manuel had long since gone to bed. On the short table between them stood four fat mugs, and a tray holding a pitcher of water and four glasses.

Matt collected his unshed emotions. Suddenly exhausted, Piper relaxed against the cushy chair back. Collectively they took a break from the heavy stuff, looking out into the night. Stars sparkled. Crickets chirped.

Ryan slipped his fingers beneath her left hand and caressed the top with his thumb. The gesture bulldozed her melancholy. But it also seemed to thicken the tension in the wide-open air. Matt shifted this way and that, then cleared his throat.

Gabriella stood and flattened her hand over her ample bosom that even Piper admired. “You need more than coffee after an experience like that,” she said in a slightly breathy voice.

Matt sure didn’t miss her chest, his gaze raking her body. He shifted again and flung his scrutiny at the stars. When she turned he relented, allowing his stare to follow her petite frame and curvaceous bottom to the door. The hug of her sundress couldn't have helped the situation one bit. It snugged her small waist and swayed with her hips, just so.

Before speaking, Piper cleared her throat. “So, why stay?”

“At first…” His lips clamped and he picked at a thin spot in his jeans.

“It’s okay, Matthew. Sparrow is my blood, but rage wouldn’t be a strong enough word for the emotions I feel toward her.”

Matt laughed, a short, joyless sound. “That’s the thing. When I heard the thugs talking about me being her debt, I didn’t believe it. Thought, no. Surely, my wife would never do that to me. But…” He smacked his palm on the wooden armrest. “I was hurt. Enraged with myself mostly. For not fighting harder. For not keeping her in rehab longer.

“I finally realized Sparrow is an adult. Responsible for her own choices. I made a promise, for better or worse, till death do us part. The people who made those promises to each other are dead. I gave her all I had and it wasn’t enough. Now, I don’t feel anything toward her. She needs help, but not from me.”

“You gave her the best years of her life. Really. You pulled her back from the brink and gave me the sister I never knew I had. I felt guilty for a long time too, but we can only do so much. She has to want to change and right now she doesn’t. We can’t let her destroy our lives too.” Piper placed a hand on his forearm, hugging it tight.

“Thanks for not making me feel like a total asshole,” he said.

“I don’t think you possess the ability.” Piper patted his hand before settling back. “So the Sinaloa?”

“They told me and Varrera that if I left, they’d kill Manuel just like they killed his father.” His palm turned to a fist. “Six years ago they soaked him with gasoline and burned him alive in front of his entire family because Varrera refused to grow for the Sinaloa Federation.”

“Oh my God,” Piper whispered.

“For a while I didn’t think God visited Mexico. But…the old man treated me like a person, not a piece of equipment. Taught me everything about how to farm.”

“Quite a task for a rich city boy,” Ryan offered.

“No kidding,” Matt agreed. “I’d hardly ever touched anything green. Not even broccoli on my plate. The business end was easy to pick up. I actually helped. Taught him a thing or two about bookkeeping and management.”

The screen door creaked and Matt quieted, it seemed, in reverence of Gabriella’s appearance. She managed another tray filled with a bottle of wine and four glasses through the door and set them on the table with the other beverages.

“Please, let me.” Matthew stood, filled the glasses, and doled them out. When they all relaxed back he continued. “The first month I spent angry, the next two I spent working or sleeping like a dead person. Around that time Manuel took an interest in the process. Señor Varrera gave me my first pupil. The best too. He has instincts about the plants. It’s in his blood.”

“It is,” Gabriella agreed. Her thick lips spread into a prideful smile.

Matthew smiled back and Ryan squeezed her hand. Yep, he felt it too. The awkwardness of being in the room, but completely ignored by the deep connection shared by two people. She glanced at her love and could do the same thing, if she didn’t have so many more questions.

“So, you can’t leave because of Manuel?”

The chair creaked as Matthew leaned forward. He planted his elbows on his knees and gave her his full attention. “In the beginning, yes. But now there are other reasons.” His brown green eyes slid to Gabriella and then back. “I’m happy here. Happier than I’ve been in many, many years, maybe ever. I love the work. It’s backbreaking, long hours, but so satisfying watching the seed you nurtured turn into a bottle of wine that will wow an oenophilist.”

“A what?” Ryan asked.

“A wine connoisseur,” Gabriella said with a smile.

“Ahh.” Ryan ran a hand through his blond locks.

“I love Manuel. He’s an amazing kid. And though I’ve tried my damnedest not to, I’m in love with his mother,” Matthew admitted.

Gabriella gasped.

After a weighted minute, Ryan stood and tugged Piper’s hand. “We’ve had a long day. If you don’t mind, we’ll crash in the bunk house and talk more in the morning.”

“That’ll be fine,” Matt agreed with a definite rasp to his voice.

Piper made a move to set her glass down.

“Bring it,” Ryan said. He leaned in, grabbed the bottle, and towed her along behind him.