ChapterTwo
Greer Delta finished feeding and watering his horses and then walked out of his barn into the summer evening. It was the first of July and absolutely beautiful in his family’s remote, lush mountain valley. He wandered over to the fence where his steers were grazing. The fence line stretched up into the trees and then a mile to the south end of the valley until it connected with the lake as the eastern boundary.
He’d built his house, barn, and corrals half a mile around the lake, distancing himself from the rest of his family. He loved his family. They were great people, and they had his back. But he craved privacy and needed quiet. They’d all been respectful of that.
Killing a man last week had changed everything. Since then, he’d had this unfamiliar urge for human company and contact. Which made no sense to him and would’ve confused everyone who knew him … if he’d been willing to open his mouth and talk to anybody about it.
His mom claimed that even as a child, he’d been sober and would arch away from anyone wanting to hold him close. Probably a character flaw. He didn’t know, but he wasn’t one to waste time stewing about his silence or anybody’s interpretation of it. He worked hard on his ranch, raising the best beef cattle in Colorado, and trained diligently as part of the Delta Protection Detail to protect a secret that he didn’t even have the privilege of knowing. He didn’t ask questions or seek anyone’s attention. Except for his former girlfriend Belinda, the other women he’d kissed had initiated the dating and the kissing. He’d liked it. A lot. But he’d never found a woman besides Belinda that he craved talking to enough to give up his peaceful, contented life. He read a lot of books—crime fiction and religious nonfiction—and if he got bored, he turned on a country song.
But he wasn’t contented anymore, and no book or country song could distract him from the anguish. In his dreams and during the day, he could still see it. He, Uncle Joseph, and his cousin Colt had searched together for a day and a half, not sleeping and barely eating or drinking. Papa, his dad, and Thor had searched other areas in the mountains, along with Sheriff Reed and some trusted friends from town.
He, Uncle Joseph, and Colt had finally heard gunshots and found the men who’d kidnapped Klein and Alivia decimating an old cabin in the woods. His Uncle Joseph had shot and killed one man out front while Greer and his cousin Colt had tackled the other one. Colt had pinned the guy down and told Greer to find Alivia. With the two aggressors subdued, Greer had rushed toward the blown-out windows of the little cabin, yanking his pistol from his hip holster as he ran. He prayed his cousin Alivia and her business partner Klein were still alive, and wondered where Travis Reeder had disappeared to.
He’d found all three of them. The mercenary and kidnapper had been framed in the back door of the cabin, pointing a gun at Klein and Alivia and saying, “It’s time to die.” Like some James Bond movie.
Greer passed a hand over his face, no longer seeing the peaceful green meadow bordered by the lake, the thick trees, the picturesque mountain, and the blue summer sky.
Instinct born of years and years of training by his grandpa, an elite military man, had taken over. He’d fired before Travis Reeder could kill Klein or Alivia. He’d shot Reeder straight through the head just as he’d done in target practice thousands of times. Everybody had proclaimed him a hero.
He was no hero. He’d simply reacted to protect his cousin and his friend. Everyone assumed he was being humble about saving their lives, not taking credit because Greer never wanted anyone to fuss over him. But the truth was, it was a horrific weight to have taken a man’s life. Even if the man was a mercenary and a military deserter hired to steal the Delta secret. Travis Reeder had resorted to kidnapping to obtain the secret, and he’d been willing to kill for a huge paycheck.
Papa seemed to be the only one who understood Greer’s anguish and struggle. His grandfather had spent years in the military. Greer had never asked how many men he’d had to kill, but he knew it had happened. Papa had come over twice in the past week, brought takeout, and watched a couple of Chandler’s lacrosse games with Greer. Chandler was a huge success in the PLL and they were all very proud.
Last night, Papa had showed him the footage of Travis Reeder’s graveside service. It was held at a pretty cemetery in Salmon, Idaho. There had only been four people at the ten-minute long service: the preacher, an older couple Papa explained were Reeder’s foster parents throughout high school, and a sister.
Emery Reeder. She’d been much, much prettier than the beautiful setting. Long dark curly hair, deep-brown eyes, and an angelic-looking face.
It had ripped him apart to see the silent tears tracing down her face as she buried her brother. Did she have any clue how or why he’d died? It wasn’t a service with military honors, so she must’ve at least known he’d gone AWOL. Compassion swelled in him.
Why Papa had felt Greer needed to watch the service he couldn’t say; maybe just to help him feel compassion for this woman.
He sat through it without a word. Not that Greer ever said much. Then he’d listened as Papa told him Miss Reeder was a schoolteacher in Nevada, no criminal history, loved by her students and their parents, and appeared to be an upstanding citizen. She and Travis had been shuffled through foster care, and she’d put herself through Boise State University while Travis had joined the military. Who knew why Travis had gone AWOL and become a mercenary, but the military life was hard on a lot of men.
His sister looked to be doing good things. And Greer was responsible for leaving her without family. Here he was surrounded by a loving family, but he’d taken Emery Reeder’s only brother.
Papa focused the power of his penetrating blue gaze on him and said, “I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there. All the reassurances that you had no choice but to take that shot—that Reeder would’ve killed Klein or Alivia if you hadn’t—won’t help. I have to ask one thing, though. If you hadn’t reacted instinctively and taken that shot and Alivia or Klein were dead, would you have been able to live with yourself any better?”
Greer’s eyes widened. “No,” he admitted. Of course he would’ve chosen to protect Alivia and Klein. The fact remained that Reeder had kidnapped them so he could discover the Delta family secret for a fat paycheck and had been about to kill one of them because it hadn’t gone according to plan and he was furious about it. Reeder had likely been unreasonable and out of his head because Alivia and Klein had escaped.
“I didn’t think so.” Papa took a breath. “You’ve taken a life, Greer. It’s one of the hardest things to reconcile in your mind and heart because life is precious and we’ve been commanded not to kill. Throughout the scriptures, there are many, many examples of times God’s people had to kill. Killing Travis Reeder wasn’t optional and I’m so grateful you didn’t hesitate, that you fired instinctively and protected Alivia and Klein. But I also can’t tell you what it means to me that you’re not taking the responsibility lightly. The very fact that I can see the torture in your eyes tells me your heart is soft and you would never hurt someone needlessly.”
Greer’s heart slammed against his ribs. Papa understood. Of course he did.
“Will it stop hurting?” he asked.
“In time, and with prayer.”
Greer needed to pray, but he’d felt too stirred up. He pointed at the computer they’d watched the graveside service on. “How do I help?”
“I don’t know that you can help Emery Reeder, but you can pray for her.”
Greer nodded slowly. Maybe he didn’t know what to pray that would help him or her, but he could at least pray for her to feel God’s peace and sustaining power.
“God will help her.” Papa’s gaze grew even more intense. “And He will help you. Only your Savior can take away the pain. Turn to Him, Greer. Always turn to Him.”
That hit him hard. Papa was right. Greer wanted to move past the pain and find peace.
So he’d spent hours last night while he should’ve been sleeping praying for Emery Reeder to be surrounded and lifted by hosts of angels and praying the good Lord could make things right for that lady and that she could find peace and comfort.