Page 30 of Flash Bang
The radio squawked, “Copy that, boys. Still not seeing any movement. I’m coming down the west fence line, but I’m a ways out,” Zach reported.
“I’m near the northeast corner, so it’ll take me the longest to get over there,” Alex added.
“I just finished my loop in the southeast corner. I’m headed west along south fence line,” Cam radioed.
Shit. Graham checked the pistol, holstered it, and reached for the radio. “Travis, you’re with me. We’ll get there just as quick as anyone. Let’s figure out what the fuck is going on.”
Ty relayed the order into the radio, “Be advised. G-man and T-dog are headed out.”
Jamie grabbed body armor from the hooks on the wall and tossed it to Graham and Travis. With efficient movements, the men strapped it on and then loaded up with extra magazines. Graham grabbed the face paint on the shelf by the door more out of habit than anything. He smeared green, gray, and brown paint on his face and jogged out of the building.
Ro was glad that Graham had thought to leave her a radio, so she’d at least have some idea of what the hell was going on. A third sensor being tripped definitely wasn’t good. She hoped, maybe naively, that it was just some deer out in the wild trying to get at the lush grass inside the fence.
“Be advised. G-man and T-dog are headed out.”
Ro froze; the cards she’d been shuffling fluttering into a rendition of Fifty-two Pick-Up on the counter. “G-man” had to be Graham. And Zach was out there on fire watch, too.
“They’ll both be fine. It’s not like this is their first rodeo,” Rowan said to herself. But still, she didn’t like the fear that pooled and clumped in the pit of her stomach like globs of mercury.
How could she be afraid for people that she’d only known for a day? It seemed insane. No, itwasinsane. But she couldn’t help it. Hell. She needed to help it. She couldn’t afford to get attached. Whatever this was had a definite expiration date. A really short one. Another few days at most. She would not get attached. Because there was no way this ... thing could last any longer.
“This is about sex and making it home safe. That’s it. That’s all. Then it’s over. End of story. Finished,” Ro said resolutely.
Stamping out all of the other thoughts in her head like a blanket on fire, Ro gathered up the scattered cards and proceeded to deal a game of solitaire. She tried not to wince at the irony.
Graham and Zach had both returned for Ro, but their grim expressions didn’t bode well for what they had discovered. Footprints all along the fence line. No people spotted. Both men were quiet and contemplative. The banter that Ro had grown used to was absent when Zach gave her a piggyback ride to the mess for dinner. Neither shared their thoughts on the day’s events.
The pork chop and mashed potatoes Graham had piled onto her plate smelled delicious, but her twisting gut made them hard to choke down. Unable to stand the silence any longer, Ro said, “You need to put me to work or something. I get that I’m gimpy, but boredom is a dangerous thing for me.”
Graham and Zach jerked up from their respective plates to look at her. The smirk she saw easing onto Zach’s face helped to soothe the churning in her stomach.
“Don’t take this the wrong way and think I’m a misogynistic pig, but ... Allison could use some help with prep and clean up in the kitchen, and maybe even with the laundry and the garden,” Zach said, his smirk having reached full power.
Ro held up a hand to stop him. “Hold up. You mean to tell me that poor woman in there does all of that work herself—feeds you, cleans up after you, and grows your food? That just ain’t right.” Ro couldn’t help the country that leaked into her tone as she launched into her mini-rant.
Both men colored slightly. Graham spoke first. “Now wait a minute. It’s not like that. We all take turns helping out in the kitchen. The results of which are sometimes more edible than others ... and Beau shoulders most of the load of the garden. And someone always pitches in to help on wash day. But if you’re interested, we need to double down on watch, so you’d be freeing up another body to patrol the property.”
Ro stowed the mini-rant. “I’m happy to help, but I’m giving you fair warning: my cooking probably isn’t much more edible than the worst of you guys. I haven’t tried to grow anything in almost ten years, and I’ve never done laundry by hand. But I’d also rather pull my weight than not, so if that’s what you need ... I guess I can start by doing dishes.”
Satisfied that she finally had something to contribute to the little society that flourished within the walls, Ro enjoyed the rest of her meal, listening to the guys joke and mock one another. When she was finished, Zach carried her into the kitchen and settled her on a stool in front of the sink. Allison looked at them askance.
Ro rolled up her sleeves. “Put me to work.”
Washing dishes turned out to be much more entertaining than Rowan would’ve guessed. Allison was a veritable font of knowledge when it came to all things related to Castle Creek Whitetail Ranch. She and Jonah and Grace had been living on the property and managing the whitetail breeding and hunting operations. She filled Rowan in as they washed and dried the dishes.
“Do you ever stop working?” Ro asked as Allison hauled out flour, sugar, and butter and began to measure out the ingredients for piecrust.
“Only on Sundays. But honestly, it’s what I’m used to.” She gestured to her plain blue dress and white apron. “I didn’t exactly grow up like you.”
Based on Allison’s clothes, Ro had assumed as much.
“Amish?”
“Mennonite. There’s a small community about an hour northeast of here. That’s where I’m from.”
Ro was familiar with it. She’d grown up seeing the horses and buggies driving alongside the cars, tractors, and giant farm implements that hogged the country roads.
“Then how? I mean, you and Jonah?” Ro didn’t want to pry, but she was intensely curious about how a Mennonite woman had ended up with a Marine.
