Page 3 of Operation: Chosen

Connor gripped the railing of the porch, and Eric didn’t miss his white knuckles. “Their caseworker didn’t feel that was appropriate, not even for safety reasons. So, in the evening after they are done for the day, they have to wear the same monitoring ankle bracelets they had to wear in the yard back at the juvenile detention center, their door is to be locked, and no one is allowed in with them after curfew.”

All three boys grumbled loudly and glanced back and forth at each other.

“Which cabin?” Eric hoped it wasn’t too close to the one Erica had been staying in, since that was one of the few larger cottages they had. Suddenly the idea of having a cabin full of things to take and boys who liked to take things wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Corner opposite Junior’s, back row,” Connor answered and tossed the key to Eric. He wasn’t sure he agreed with Connor’s choice to put the boys furthest from him and close to Erica, Cole’s wife, and Gabby, Junior’s wife.

“We all have to stay in the same cabin? What is this, church camp?” the biggest boy asked.

“Like you’ve ever been to church camp, Big E.” The second boy laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. He turned to the third boy. “Come on, Terrell. You’re holding us all up.”

By process of elimination, that left Jayzon as the bridge between the largest boy, Big E, who seemed to be the leader, and Terrell, who didn’t seem to fit the group at all. The hairs on Eric’s arms rose the closer the boys came to him. Just like he’d keep an eye on these same boys if he saw them on the street, he felt his defenses rise.

Junior stood back slightly, and Sam fell back to Junior’s side. Eric turned and strode for the cabin all the way in the private back row, then unlocked it and opened the door. Lacy had to have been in there the moment the boys had arrived since there wasn’t a hint of dust on the furniture. Everything was in order and all three bedroom doors were open and waiting, with beds made and windows open to freshen the room.

Eric cleared his throat. “These windows are open because there’s no AC in any of the cabins. Don’t make us lock them on you. You’ll want to keep that privilege. There’s literally nowhere you can go within fifteen miles and that’s a long walk.”

“I call dibs on the master.” Big E strutted into the house and lounged on the couch.

“Whatever.” Jayzon tossed his bag on the other sofa, then flopped down next to it. “What did you mean when you said ‘chores?’” He narrowed his eyes at Eric. “I’m not doing any work around here.”

Terrell held his bag close to his chest, a bag that couldn’t have held more than two other changes of clothes, and waited by the hall. His eyes darted from the open doors to the boys sprawled on the couches.

“You will have chores to do every day. This isn’t a vacation for you or anyone else who comes to stay here. We all work.” Eric glanced at Terrell with what he hoped was a friendly look. The poor kid seemed completely unsure of himself. Maybe he wasn’t as delinquent as Eric had first thought. “You can pick any room you want. If these two don’t get up and choose, that’s on them.”

Big E held up his hand. “If you so much as step in the room that’s the biggest, I’ll beat you. See if I don’t.”

“That won’t be tolerated here.” Junior crossed his arms, but Eric noticed the slight tick in Junior’s fingers, which was the only sign of his battle with PTSD. This wasn’t a situation any of them had faced before. Their clients were all so glad to have a chance to be there that they often wanted to help out and learn new things. Chores usually came weeks into their stay, but this situation was different.

“Then don’t tolerate it. Still going to happen though.” Big E shrugged and cracked his knuckles. “Terrell can either follow the rules or not, but he’ll pay the consequences. You can’t watch me all the time.”

A look passed between Terrell and Jayzon, one Eric immediately recognized as controlling without words. Terrell shuffled down the hall, stopped in front of each door, then took the smallest room.

An uneasy knot tightened in Eric’s stomach. Maybe dealing with Ali would’ve been easier.

* * *

The farther Ali Wellthorpdrove after she went past Cheyenne, the more uncomfortable she felt. Vast stretches of highway spread ahead of her with little more than fences and the occasional billboard. Who lived like this? Was Eric so out of touch now that he had to live in no-man’s land?

She turned up the song on her playlist and nodded her head to the beat, trying to center herself before she reached Wayside Ranch. Connor, the owner, had contacted her a few weeks before about a military legal matter that needed her attention. Then, he’d dropped the bomb of a lifetime. Eric Moberg worked for him. The same Eric she’d loved in her teens and early twenties. Maybe she still did… The same Eric she’d turned down when he’d asked her to marry him and broke his heart.

Her hand stilled on the steering wheel where she’d been tapping the beat. She couldn’t dwell on the past. She’d been young. Though she didn’t regret her success, some of the choices she’d made to get there had been life-altering. Her wedding ring glinted in the sunlight refracting off the ceiling of the car. She’d worn it even after her divorce to ward off attention from men. Now, it seemed silly. She’d been divorced for years.

She spun the gold band on her finger, then slipped it off. With a flick, she sent it flying into the back seat. “I don’t need you anymore, Frank. Not even your ring.” Taking it off felt good. Freeing. Maybe after the next three weeks, she could finally get past that particular part of her life. Maybe Eric could forgive her, and she could finally feel the ultimate success.

The voice from her navigation system interrupted her thoughts. “You have passed the exit. Please drive for another sixteen miles and turn around.” The mechanical voice sounded irritated with her.

“Missed my turn?” She glanced in the rearview mirror. There hadn’t been an exit. “What in the world?”

Ali eased the car to the side of the road and turned on her emergency flashers, then dug the directions Connor had given her out of the stack of papers on the passenger seat. She read quickly down the list, then laughed. Apparently, the mapping system out there was just as lost as she was. Two more miles and she’d exit into a small town named Piper’s Ridge, and from there it was all gravel roads.

She rolled her eyes and pressed the button to raise the convertible top on her car. She signaled to get back on the road, not that she’d seen any cars in the last twenty minutes. How was she ever going to survive out here in the sticks?

A half hour later, she pulled up the long driveway of Wayside Ranch following Connor’s directions. A huge metal gate blocked her entrance, and she pulled to a stop next to a post with a camera. She lowered the window and smiled. “Hello, I’m Ali Wellthorp, here to help Cole Bradley with a legal matter.”

Someone on the other end spoke a quick welcome, and the gate slowly unlatched and swung open. She quickly raised the window to keep the dust out of her car and headed through the gate. When the ranch finally came into view, she couldn’t deny the beauty. It sat in a shallow valley, with rolling hills and trees surrounding it. Fences spread as far as her eye could see, and horses grazed in the distance.

A tall man in a black cowboy hat sauntered out of the large house. Ali had been in the military so long and worked with so many people that she could immediately tell he was former military just by his walk. There was a confidence, a look on his face, a set to his shoulders that spoke of discipline and training. Some men never lost it.

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