Chapter Fifteen

The alarm clock beeped loudly beside Lily’s ear where she stashed it in the night for fear of waking up the guys. Thanksgiving morning. Four a.m. With a groan, she forced herself to move, knowing she had to get the turkey in the oven now or it wouldn’t be done in time for lunch. The last thing she wanted to do was serve an undercooked bird for their feast after all this work. Besides, this might be the last meal Cale and Dillon shared with her, leaving afterwards to who knows where, fighting the ancient battle of good versus evil. That sobering thought pushed her into action.

A full moon shined brightly through the kitchen window, illuminating enough of the room that she only had to turn on a small light located under the cabinet. No sense in wasting electricity and waking the dead with all the lights on at such an early time.

Luckily, she had prepared everything the night before, so all she had to do was stick the bird in the oven. Dang heavy thing. With a final push, she managed to center it on the rack. She shut the door, and pushed the button to the correct temperature. She stepped to the sink, washing her hands under the warm water while gazing out of the window.

Movement within the shadows behind the huge oak tree caught her attention. Not much, but just enough for her to realize it wasn’t anything natural. Sounds of restless cattle came to the fore as they paced and shifted, preparing to bolt if the need arose.

She rushed to the bedroom, heading straight for her bedside table.

“What is it?” Cale spun around from his position at the bedroom window.

Dillon sat up immediately, pulling himself to the side of the bed.

“Probably nothing. Something is upsetting the cattle. Last time they did this, it was a pack of wild dogs.” She sincerely hoped that was the case. If it was those men Cale had spoken of… A shiver ran down her back at the mere thought.

She wrapped her hand around the Glock. Before she could spin around once more, Cale reached out to stop her.

“Stay here.” Kneeling down, he fished for, then yanked out one of their large duffles, pulling out a couple of handguns and a rifle, handing the latter to Dillon. “We’ll go check it out.”

Lily stared at him in stunned silence. Guns didn’t bother her. She’d been raised with them and taught to shoot at an early age, compliments of a beat cop for a father. Even seeing the amount and complexity of their weapons didn’t faze her. It was the expression that came over both men—serious, deadly, intimidating. Any man looking at them from the other side of a gun would swear he stared at the devil himself.

With a headshake, she pulled herself back to the present situation. “No. This is my house and I’m responsible for those cattle. Besides, if it’s wild dogs, I prefer you don’t kill them. They are simply hungry and looking for an easy meal. You can’t blame them for that. I just run them off. No biggie. If it’s not, I’ll be right there with you.”

Both men ignored her, going about their preparations with efficiency.

“If you can see them from the kitchen, they’re coming in from the south. I’ll go out the front and snake around the east, see if I can locate them.” Cale tightened his grip on his weapon.

Dillon nodded. “I’ll cover you from the back. If you have to backtrack, give me a sec to change positions. I’m taking those bastards out once and for all.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No. You stay here. You’ll only be in the way.”

Frustrated, Lily glared at both of them. “I know what I’m doing.”

Cale leveled his gaze, biting off each word. “Those aren’t four-legged predators out there. Like I told you yesterday, we didn’t clean out that vipers’ nest completely. Some escaped. They’ll be hot on our heels and determined to send us to hell and anyone else along the way. This is what we do. Let us do what we’re trained to do.”

“He’s right. Let’s roll.”

“But your leg…” Lily protested only to have Dillon silence her with a glare.

“May slow me down a hair, but that’s all.” He tugged Lily’s pajama sleeve, indicating that she should follow him, sticking to the dark. Her Glock remained at the ready, although at this point she hadn’t a clue what good it would do. Between the three handguns she knew Cale carried and Dillon’s rifle, it would take an army to make it inside for her to even have a chance to nick one.

Cale disappeared out of the front, the door shutting silently behind him.

She sent up a quick prayer that he would return safe and sound, fear twisting her belly into a ball, realizing that he could be killed right before her eyes. If such a horrific event happened, she would never have another opportunity to express her feelings for him.

Dillon led her back to the kitchen, motioned for her to remain silent and out of sight.

Tense moments passed while Lily sat and waited for something, anything to happen. The waiting and suspense put her on the brink of anxiety. She forced the panic down, hoping to absorb the confidence Dillon showed.

This can’t be happening. People like her didn’t find themselves in the middle of some gun battle with criminals. They lived boring and dull lives. Each year, they cooked Thanksgiving dinner and the largest worry they had would be if the turkey was dry or undercooked. If they should put the stuffing inside the bird or cook it separate to help prevent food poisoning. If she wanted the gun and knife club, she would have moved to the big city and worked at a large hospital, seeing victim after victim enter through those emergency room doors covered in blood and fighting to survive. No. Her life was supposed to be calm and peaceful, living with her cats in the middle of nowhere, growing a vegetable garden and watching baby bunnies eat her cherry tomatoes. All too surreal, she blinked at her current situation, grasping at her wits.

Dillon kept vigil out of the window, every once in a while moving smoothly to check out other vantage points. With stealth and graceful motions, he watched outside, more than once raising his rifle to look down the scope.

She started to get up only to find Dillon’s hand on her shoulder shoving her back down. His narrowed eyes spared her a split second as he once more raised the rifle into position, obviously prepared to fire directly through her window if the need arose.

Long minutes passed in total silence. No gunshots rang, no sounds of a struggle. Just damning silence that ate at her gut and kept her on edge, barely able to sit still and wait for an outcome, either good or bad.

Just when her stretched nerves threatened to break, a sharp whistle broke the air, resembling the cry of a hawk soaring in the sky. Another followed, this time, the cry of a purple martin. Finally, a quail answered.

Perplexed, Lily slid closer to the front door, eager to peek out and discover what the obvious signals meant.

“Stand down,” Dillon called, lowering his rifle, though still grasping it close. His gaze left the window to glance her direction. “That’s the all clear. You can set your weapon down now.”

With a nod, Lily lightly placed the Glock on the kitchen countertop, anxiously waiting to see what happened next. Dozens of questions raced through her mind, demanding answers.

A click of the front door signaled Cale’s return. Racing over, Lily threw herself into his arms, hugging him with the strength of her feelings for him and the immense relief that he appeared safe and sound. Leaning back, she quickly surveyed him for damage. Seeing none, she hugged him all the tighter.

Cale wrapped an arm around her, squeezing in return. He used his free hand to slip the dull black handgun back into the holster at his lower back. “I’m okay.” Air brushed against her ear as he whispered to her.

“I was so worried.” She felt a kiss to the top of her head and basked happily.

Dillon hobbled over, gimpy but without the assistance of his crutches, flicking the kitchen light on. “Warriors?”

Cale nodded, releasing Lily, a wry grin on his face. “Surprised the hell out of me, too. Nearly stumbled over Night lying in wait. Good thing he’s on our side or I would have had a fight on my hands.”

Dillon chuckled, looking to the front door. “Where is he?”

“Gathering in the others.”

“Others?” Lily’s head spun from the turn of events and names she couldn’t begin to recognize.

“Our team. Spoon, Night, and Loco.”

“But how—?” A knock at the front door interrupted her.

Cale walked over, opening the door wide, gesturing in three men. Lily stared in amazement. All three stood around the same height, big, strong, and full of muscles. Two had short hair in varying shades of brown, and matching eyes. The third sported blue-black hair, hanging past his shoulders, and contained in a ponytail holder. Deep blue eyes made for a striking contrast. Native American heritage shouted loudly from his coloring and facial features.

Just like when Carson and Cale stood over Dillon, Lily felt dwarfed, like a wallaby amongst kangaroos. “Oh, boy. Let me guess. None of you had any difficulty climbing that wall in basic training,” Lily muttered as she tilted her head back to look up at them.

The lot chuckled. “No, ma’am.”

Cale pulled her against his side. “This is our team. Loco. Spoon. And the boss, Night. This is Lily, Dillon’s nurse, babysitter, maid.”

Each man gave a brief nod in turn, their predatory appearance diminished only slightly by the happy expressions on their faces.

She elbowed Cale in the side while Dillon snorted.

“Damn, Bugle. Heard you were hit,” the one introduced as Loco asked.

Dillon nodded. “Yeah, but I’m on the mend. Been holing up for a few days with nothing to do but take meds and eat.”

“Good to know.”

“Lansing?” Dillon asked, his question directed at the three newcomers.

Spoon explained. “Yeah. Seems he and his goons arrived Tuesday, looking for first the doctor, then for Lily. They managed to track you guys down that far.”

Cale tensed next to her, pulling her flush with his body.

Night took up the tale. “Daughter of the doctor’s receptionist owns the diner.”

“Lisa?” Lily asked.

He nodded.

“Lisa is in the National Guard. She’s sharp and capable,” Lily quickly informed them, boasting about the assets of her friend.

The sandy-haired man stepped forward. “Seems she got a bad feeling when these guys started asking about you and the doc. So she called her mother, who called the doc. Good old Mayberry pulled some strings, but finally found the person to make contact with Night. He thought you guys could take care of yourselves and anyone else, but decided back-up couldn’t hurt.”

“How close?” Dillon eased to one of the kitchen chairs, lines of pain crossing his face.

“Caught up with them on the side road, about a mile away. Armed to the gills, but what else would you expect of that son of a bitch? Tango Uniform now.”

She didn’t understand any of their terminology, but figured everything was on the up and up or they wouldn’t be standing in her living room making introductions. “I didn’t hear anything.” If they were that close, I would have heard gunshots, right?

“You wouldn’t have.” Cale gave her a squeeze.

“Clean-up?”

“Done.” Spoon answered in a low tone.

“I owe you.” Sincerity filled Cale’s words.

The guys shrugged it off. “You would have done the same for us.” Loco slapped Cale on the back.

Silence filled the room. Night tilted his head toward the door. “We should be off.” The other men lined up, preparing to leave.

“Wait!” Lily reached out to stop them.

They turned in unison.

“Please. Don’t go. I’m fixing Thanksgiving lunch and assuming it’s edible… There should be plenty. I would like for you to stay and eat with us. Please? It’s the least I can do for what you’ve done.”

Night glanced toward Cale who shrugged. The others waited in silence.

“Did I mention I have homemade bread and cinnamon rolls?” She crossed her fingers, hoping the lure of the baked goods would tilt the scale in her favor.

Each man shared a look before smiling. “I think we can do that.”

* * * *

A few hours later, her kitchen bustled with activity. Even the newest guests refused to allow her to do most of the work, claiming they couldn’t sit on their rears and allow her to run herself to a lather trying to cook for a small herd of men. Spoon took a position at the stove, working on the vegetables, while Night mashed potatoes. Loco and Cale retrieved the table leaves from under her bed, set them in place, and brought in the two spare chairs from the second bedroom. Dillon rounded up the kittens, keeping them entertained and out from under people’s feet lest they got stepped on.

Spinning, she barely missed Loco as he pulled dishes and silverware out for the meal. Her tiny kitchen overflowed with people, but that didn’t deter the guys from doing their part.

She analyzed and directed, amazed at the abilities of the guys. Rumor had it most men wouldn’t step foot in a kitchen to cook unless they held careers as chefs or simply loved to prepare meals. Yet, here stood five tall, dark, handsome, and deadly men, cutting, slicing, cleaning, and mashing as if they cooked often.

Home. She wondered if they even had one. Like everyone else, they probably had a place they called theirs, to drop off their clothes, pick up bills, and sleep occasionally. A house, sure, but a house didn’t always make a home.

Through cordial chit-chat, she discovered that none of them were married and they had all been in the military at some point in their lives. No surprise considering what little she knew about the job they did now. Too bad for the women of the world. Despite their dangerous nature and intimidating appearance, they really behaved like true gentlemen. They toiled right along with her, no laziness in any of their bones as they all worked together toward placing a nice feast on the table.

A woman could do worse, much worse. Sure, nothing was ever perfect, but having a hunky man with gentle hands, a kind nature, the ability to cook, clean, and protect was the stuff of dreams.

Her gaze fell on Cale. Definitely the stuff of dreams. If only she could be sure he felt the same.

The chime of a timer brought her back to reality. The turkey was done.

With all the help from the guys, a feast soon lay before them. Cale carved the turkey, while the group commented on his knife-handling skills, tossing out comments and comparisons, not all of them positive or flattering. Lily couldn’t be sure, but she thought he might have given them a one-fingered wave between slices.

“Scavengers,” Night announced from his seat at the end of the table.

Lily looked down. Sure enough, Hope and her kittens had smelled the hot food and marched right over, sitting between the men, outright begging for table scraps. Dillon swore he had worn them out playing, but leave it to her bunch to find energy when food appeared. Beaming, she hopped up to grab a couple of paper towels. Cale anticipated her move, cut two thin slices of turkey and laid them gently on the towels. Calling the girls, she lured them away from the table and over to their feeding station. She quickly pulled the tender meat apart with her fingers, cautioning the cats their food was still hot.

“It’s easier to give up and feed them first than to try to keep them off the table. Besides, they have that downright pitiful starvation look down pat.” Dillon tossed out the information as he passed a bowl full of mashed potatoes around.

Watching the girls eat with their usual haste, Lily moved back to Cale’s spot in the kitchen. “I think we’re going to need a couple more pieces to fill them up.”

She tore the turkey into smaller chunks, spreading the meal out before the fur babies. “They should sleep well this afternoon with such full tummies.”

“Just like people?” Spoon shoveled in a mouthful of homemade bread. She had warmed a whole loaf, figuring the guys might plow right through it.

“Here, I thought men didn’t sleep. They watch football, unbutton their pants, pass gas, belch, and scratch their…parts after such a meal,” Lily teased, the heat rising in her face when she realized what she’d almost said.

Loco grinned at her. “Pert near.”

Lily couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. Never would she have imagined her first Thanksgiving alone would be just the opposite of what she had envisioned a week ago. Cats with bulging bellies lay around bathing and napping. Five oversized men sat at the table, shoveling in food while reminiscing and teasing, more like a family than simple co-workers. Each and every one of them thanked her, sincerely appreciating the effort and meal. Though dangerous and probably deadly, these men made her feel safe, honored, and humbled. Golden hearts resided under their thick layers of skin.

The chatter died down as everyone worked on cleaning their plates. Large mounds of vegetables disappeared by the spoonful as the platter of turkey slowly whittled down to scraps. Just as Lily had expected, the homemade bread soon bit the dust. Even the desserts vanished nearly as fast as she could pass out utensils and bowls.

Declaring themselves stuffed, all the guys chipped in to clean up the kitchen. Dillon even washed dishes, mainly because Cale left him no choice, threatening to kick his rear if he didn’t get to the task and quit whimpering about it. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the interplay with the brothers. More than once one of them would smack the other for some presumed insult. Just like when they were kids, she would bet. Their poor mother must have considered them a great handful.

Within thirty minutes, her kitchen sparkled. Clean dishes were put away and trash carried out. Even the floor shined after Loco zipped over it with a hardwood floor mop. The room had never looked better. Thanks to all the guys, who now drifted toward the couch, turning on the small television to watch football. How typically male.

She wondered if they would nap and snore, or get all excited about the game and actually pass gas and scratch themselves. Shaking her head, she followed them into the living room, more than happy with the additional surprise guests and the roaring success of the meal. Never once did loneliness or sadness invade her mind. With all the bantering and teasing, she had more than enough distractions and entertainment for sadness to take hold.

Surveying the room, she cringed. For the first time, her spartan furniture and lack of essentials embarrassed her. Night and Loco put her sleeper sofa back together, making room for three of them. Dillon took the small recliner, easing it back to elevate his wounded leg. That left Spoon without a seat except on the hard wooden floor. “I’ll get one of the kitchen chairs, although they won’t be comfortable…”

He shook his head at her. “I’m fine. Really.”

A flick of the wrist sent a couple of pillows from Cale to his comrade. Spoon grinned at him, then made a small nest, placing the cushion on the floor.

That left her. She knew without a doubt any one of the guys would gladly get up, giving up his seat to her. But she didn’t want that. They needed some downtime. If watching football after eating Thanksgiving lunch provided that, then she would relish it and let them absorb as much relaxation as they could get.

Cale patted his lap. “Come on.”

She looked at him in surprise.

A wicked grin appeared. “I promise to keep my hands to myself and not bite.”

“You better. First time you fondle my ass, you’ll wonder what bus ran you over,” Loco flung at Cale.

Cale flashed his middle finger. “Asshole.”

“I’ll remember that, football bat.”

“Where’s a referee when you need one?” Lily snapped her head around, her attention bouncing from one man to another as they mouthed back and forth.

Both shot her a look, pointing to Night, who simply rolled his eyes, shaking his head at their antics. The quiet one, he spoke rarely, but what he did say made her smile. A man of few words, lots of action, and a gentle old soul to those he deemed worthy. She read those truths in his oddly colored eyes.

Shaking her head, Lily stepped around long legs and big feet until she reached Cale. Gingerly, she sat down on his thighs, leaning half against him and half against the armrest, trying to give Loco more room.

Cale immediately wrapped an arm about her, pulling her snug against his side. “There. See. We fit just fine and Loco won’t get the tar knocked out of him.”

“As if.” A loud snort followed.

Dillon clicked on the remote, found the right channel, and everyone turned their attention to the television, focusing on the game.

Lily settled into Cale, soaking up his warmth and strength. A year ago if someone had told her she would be cuddling on a man’s lap watching sports with him and his buddies on this holiday, she would have called that person demented. Yet, here she sat, content and even happy. Her heart swelled with emotion, particularly when it came to the man holding her.

He met her eyes and gave her a slight squeeze and a smile, before returning his attention to the game.

For the first time in many months, she felt cared for.

Not to be left out, the girls meandered over. Charity hopped onto Dillon’s legs, while Faith marched purposely to Spoon’s side, flopping down as if she belonged there. Both men grinned, immediately stroking the kittens. Hope took a bit longer, finally jumping on Night’s legs, staring up at him for the longest moment. He spoke to her in a language Lily had never heard before. The cat must have understood as she turned three circles, then settled into a neat ball to doze while the boss of the group lightly brushed her back with long fingers. Three motors began to purr in contentment.

Resting her head on Cale’s shoulder, she closed her eyes. Perhaps there is such a thing as love at first sight after all. At least by second sight, anyway.