Page 25 of Ravaged Hearts

HOPE

This morning, I’d been living in a blissful bubble, excited about spending more time with Vaughn in the peaceful surrounds of my home.

The cartel’s arrival had torn that foolish daydream from me and shattered it.

Despite Vaughn’s assurances that the Mexican Army general would respond quickly to his call for support and that fleeing was our best move, it still felt cowardly and unfair. But he was right. The only way to end this was by bringing down the cartel from the top, and we couldn’t do that from the village.

We pulled up out front of a grand timber-and-stone residence, which Sage had just finished telling me contained thirty-something rooms and functioned as a halfway house for the trafficking survivors they rescued. A top-notch medical team provided them the best physical and mental health services available with the hope that they’d recuperate and transition back to regular life.

Of course, some responded better to treatment than others, and not every case was a success. But Sage told me that what they offered here was better than the victims becoming anumber in the health-care system. Here, each woman was treated as an individual and given the care, patience, and respect she deserved. Being around others in the same situation also helped.

Vaughn held the car door open for me, so I stepped out and sucked in a deep lungful of crisp Montana air. It smelled wholesome—a combination of fresh-cut grass, smoke from a wood fire, and horse shit. Or cow shit. Probably both since there were a group of people on horseback riding toward a nearby barn as well as cattle grazing in the surrounding grassy plains.

My eyes roamed over the impressive two-story log mansion cast in the day’s dying glow. With its imposing stone chimneys and expansive deck, the lodge made the stunning abode fromYellowstonelook like a guesthouse. It was so large that I wondered if it’d operated as a hotel or wedding venue at some point.

There were several other structures within a short walk from the lodge. Two barns and a stable made from aged timber, and a steel-roofed horse arena that must be a more recent construction. A dapple gray mare whinnied as a teenage girl let it to a corral.

Seated on Adirondack chairs around an open firepit, a group of women sipped hot drinks and talked quietly among themselves. One gently strummed an acoustic guitar while another tended a cast-iron pot hung over the fire’s glowing coals.

Brandon grabbed the bag from the truck bed and made his way up the wide stairs to the porch.

Sage stood beside me and folded her arms. “I’m a city girl, but there’s something about this place, right?”

“It’s incredible.” I nodded and glanced up at Sage, who was taller than I’d expected. With her long dark hair pulled up in a messy pony, and dressed in leggings, a pink hoodie, and tennisshoes, she looked like she’d finished a workout not long ago. Sage’s toned physique and no-nonsense attitude gave her an air of confidence. I supposed she had to be assertive to manage a team of badass black-ops mercenaries. “Where are you from?” I asked.

“Philly born and raised. I had no farming experience before moving here to help run the team, but Brandon grew up country.”

“Really?” My brows shot up. “He doesn’t look it.”

Sage sighed wistfully when her eyes landed on her husband at the top of the stairs. “That fine-ass man is full of surprises.”

Aside from him wearing his Wrangler jeans as well as any hotshot bull rider, there was nothing about Brandon’s appearance that hinted at a rural upbringing. He was tall, dark-haired, and broad like Vaughn, but where my man was tattooed and broody, Sage’s husband was clean-cut and handsome in a movie-star kind of way. His clear-blue eyes and easy smile gave off a warm, if a little mischievous, vibe.

“Come on.” Sage slapped her hands on her thighs. “You must be exhausted. Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”

She headed for the stairs just as Vaughn placed his arm around my shoulder, tugging me to his side. “You okay?”

I stared up into the eyes of the man who’d become my rock this last week. “I’m really not sure.”

He curled my hair behind my ear. “Brandon and Sage are good people. They’ll look after you.”

I wrapped my arms around Vaughn’s taut waist and pressed my cheek to his chest, inhaling his scent and soaking up his body heat. “I only want one person looking after me.”

I almost melted when he fully enclosed me in his strong embrace. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now.” He kissed the top of my head.

We walked to the stairs, where Brandon and Sage watched us with matching expressions of amused curiosity.

Without taking her eyes from us, Sage held her hand out toward Brandon and wiggled her fingers. “Told you so. Pay up, big guy.”

Brandon groaned, pulled out his wallet, and slapped a wrinkled Benjamin into his wife’s open palm.

Sage opened the solid wooden door to the lodge, motioning for us to enter first. Vaughn directed me to a large den off the entrance hall.

The rustic decor was both stylish and cozy. Landscape artwork and beautiful Native American tapestries decorated hewn log walls, and richly textured rugs covered the dark floorboards. Sconces and a deer-antler chandelier, as well as the flickering flames from a large stone hearth in the back wall, illuminated the room with a warm glow. Before the fireplace, two brown leather sofas packed with throw cushions faced each other and the low coffee table between them.

This place was so different from my Mexican home, but I felt instantly at ease.

Brandon slid closed the room’s double doors, giving the four of us privacy. “Have a seat.”

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