Page 12 of Wyoming Cowboy Undercover

Alex hung back behind them, looking uncertain. As though he was the interloper.

A sense of trepidation whispered through Marshall. The stranger did not belong here and yet he stood as if ready to conquer the compound.

“My daughter returns with a stranger.” The warmth in his voice surprised even him. Extending his arms in welcome, he glided down the rest of the steps. “Who have you brought to us, my child?”

“Father, this is Rocco Sharp. He’s my instructor at the Underground Self-Defense school. Rocco, this is Empyrean.”

“The man my daughter has been grappling and getting sweaty with for six long months.”

There was a deep, ugly silence like a festering wound.

Mercy’s cheeks flushed. Alex lowered his head.

But Rocco flashed pearly whites in a wide grin, removed his worn cowboy hat and proffered a hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.” Not an ounce of shame. No rush to dismiss the suggestive insinuation.

Gutsy.

“Forgive me for not shaking,” Marshall said, pulling on his stock smile that telegraphed grace. “I prefer to read a person’s energy when they first enter my home.” He raised both palms. “May I?”

Without glancing at Mercy with uncertainty, he stepped forward. “Certainly.”

This was a strong one, not only of body, but also of spirit. He would not be easy to break.

But would he be willing to bend?

Marshall took Rocco’s head between his hands, brought his brow down to touch his, and then put a hand over his heart. Rocco didn’t shutter his eyes as they looked at one another. This might have been a staring competition for the younger man, but Marshall was on a mission.

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, opening himself to the energy within this other soul. Letting it flow through him.

There was darkness in him, as well as a powerful light. A blaze burning inside Rocco. An unmistakable sense of violence. Yet also control. But his heart, beating powerful and steady as a metronome, was out of reach. Guarded.

This man was not lost. But he was searching. For something.

As many who came here were.

Dropping his hands, Marshall said, “Come and let us speak.” Bringing his daughter to his side, he led them deeper into Light House, down the hall. He glanced at Rocco as they passed the mural of the Shining Light symbol on the wall. The cowboy’s eyes were drawn to it, as were all newcomers. They reached his office. “Thank you, Alex,” he said once inside. “Could you wait in the hall and close the door?”

A flustered look came over his face, but Alex bowed his head. “Yes, Empyrean.”

Marshall stood in front of his desk and clasped his hands. “What brings you here to us, Rocco?”

“I brought him,” Mercy said, quickly, “because—”

Marshall held up a finger, silencing her. “I will get to you in a moment, my dear,” he said while keeping his gaze focused on the stranger, his voice soft. “Rocco, please answer for yourself.”

“We’ve become friends. After she told me tonight would be her last training session and that she didn’t know whether we’d see each other again, I asked if I could come here. I’ve been going through a difficult time. Struggling with some things. I thought it might be healthy to get away from negative influences. Come here to better understand your ways. And Mercy. She’s always talking about her faith.”

“You’ve had six months to satisfy your curiosity.” Marshall stepped closer to him. “Why all of a sudden?”

“I took for granted that we’d have more time together. The idea of not seeing her again and going back to some dark habits made this feel urgent, sir. Like this was my chance, and I shouldn’t blow it.”

Marshall didn’t detect a lie, but he also wasn’t getting the whole truth. “We only accept novices during certain new moons. If your interest remains in six weeks’ time, you may return to see if our beliefs and lifestyle would suit you. Thank you for bringing Mercy home.” He gestured toward the door.

“You misunderstand, Father. I’ve brought him here as myguest,” Mercy said. “Not as a potential novice.”

Another whisper of unease—a faint sixth sense of warning that this cowboy would be more than he could control.

This Rocco had already gotten his daughter to ignore custom and flout his basic edicts. What would be next?

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