Page 73 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

Because love and family and home were worth any risk.

Even this one.

13

The morning of the bake sale, Liv woke at four-thirty to the certain knowledge that everything was about to change. She couldn't say how she knew. She just did. The way her grandmother used to predict storms by the ache in her knees, or how barn cats knew to hide before tornadoes touched down.

Something was coming.

She lay there for a moment, listening to the house breathe around her, the creak of old wood, the distant call of an owl, the soft rustle of wind through the live oaks. Normal sounds. Peaceful sounds.

She didn't believe them for a second.

Mike's room down the hall was already empty. She'd heard him twenty minutes ago, boots on hardwood, coffee brewing, the quiet efficiency of a man who'd spent too many years waking before dawn in places where hesitation meant death. By now he'd be checking the perimeter, reviewing security feeds with Kenny, making sure all their careful preparations were still in place.

They'd gone over the plan a dozen times. The bake sale would proceed as scheduled. Canceling would only confirm to anyone watching that they knew trouble was coming. But underneath the normalcy would be layers of protection. Armed ranch hands positioned as helpers, Sheriff Tucker and two deputies in plainclothes, half the county's concealed carry permit holders conveniently in attendance.

A celebration and a fortress. Pie and tactical defense.

Only in Texas, Liv thought, pushing back the covers.

She dressed in the dark. Jeans, boots, the soft flannel shirt Mike had given her that still smelled like him. Braided her hair back tight. Slipped Charlotte's courage stone into her pocket where she could touch it when her hands started shaking.

Then she headed for the training area behind the barn, where Heather would be waiting.

The training yard was dark except for a single overhead light that cast harsh shadows across the packed dirt. Heather stood in the center, already warmed up, dressed in workout clothes that had seen better days.

"You're early," Heather said.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Good. Means your instincts are working." Heather tossed her a pair of fingerless gloves. "We're going to work on escapes today. Someone grabs you from behind, what do you do?"

"Scream?" Liv suggested, pulling on the gloves.

"Eventually. But first you get free." Heather moved behind her. "Most people grab like this." Her arm came around Liv's neck, loose but firm. "They're bigger, stronger, and they think that matters. Show them it doesn't."

For the next thirty minutes, Heather put Liv through her paces. How to break a chokehold. How to use an attacker's momentum against them. How to turn vulnerability into advantage.

Liv stumbled. Fell. Got back up. Fell again.

"Stop thinking," Heather said. "Your body knows what to do. Trust it."

"My body wants to run and hide under the bed."

"Your body wants to survive. Big difference." Heather reset, came at her again. "Now, someone grabs you. What do you do?"

This time, Liv didn't think. Just moved.

Dropped her weight. Twisted. Used her hip and Heather's own grip as leverage.

And somehow, somehow, Heather went flying.

They both hit the dirt hard. Lay there for a shocked second.

Then Heather started laughing.

"Holy cow," Heather wheezed. "You just judo-threw a woman who outweighs you by twenty pounds."