Keeping Guard Read online

  Also available from Sandra Owens

  and Carina Press

  Operation K-9 Brothers

  Coming soon

  Mountain Rescue

  Also by Sandra Owens

  Blue Ridge Valley series

  Just Jenny

  All Autumn

  Still Savannah

  Caitlyn’s Christmas Wish

  Dark Falls series

  Dark Terror

  Dark Memories

  Aces & Eights series

  Jack of Hearts

  King of Clubs

  Ace of Spades

  Queen of Diamonds

  K2 Team series

  Crazy for Her

  Someone Like Her

  Falling for Her

  Lost in Her

  Only Her

  Regency books

  The Duke’s Obsession

  The Training of a Marquess

  The Letter

  Keeping Guard

  Sandra Owens

  This book is dedicated to our military heroes, those women and men who put their lives on the line to protect our country and our freedom, sometimes making the ultimate sacrifice.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Mountain Rescue by Sandra Owens

  Chapter One

  “He’s a stray someone tied to our gate a few nights ago.”

  Noah Alba, Double D—or sometimes just DD—to his SEAL teammates, stared at the fifty pounds of wiggling animal. “Are you sure it’s actually a dog?”

  The thing looked more like something put together all wrong. Wiry fur stuck up and out at odd angles and had to be about a dozen different colors. There was more fur on his furiously wagging tail than on its body. The oddest parts of the animal were the two different colored eyes, one blue and one brown. There was intelligence in those odd eyes, though, an alertness that Noah liked.

  His friend and former teammate laughed. “Actually, no.”

  A year ago, Jack Daniels—Whiskey to the team—and his dog had come home to Asheville, North Carolina. When he learned that his arm and shoulder were permanently damaged, he’d started Operation K-9 Brothers to train therapy dogs to be companions to their military brothers and sisters who were suffering from PTSD.

  Noah was both proud and impressed with what his friend had accomplished, but the last thing he wanted was to be around people and dogs. Former teammate included. The only reason he didn’t do a vanishing act was because his commander had ordered him here. If he left, he’d be AWOL. He’d fucked up his life enough without getting charged with a serious crime.

  “He’s yours to work with while you’re here,” Jack said.

  “Oh, hell no.” The last dog he’d been around was dead because of him.

  Jack put his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Yes, and that’s an order, DD.”

  Noah pressed his lips together to keep from telling him what he could do with his order and the dog. What had his commander been thinking by sending him here, and not only that, but also ordering him to report directly to Whiskey? Hell, Jack wasn’t even in the navy anymore.

  “You’ll work with me every day on training him while you’re here. You also need to give him a name.”

  The ever-simmering rage inside him burned hotter. “You’re making a mistake trusting me with a dog.”

  “I disagree.”

  Noah slipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans, his fingers wrapping around the pair of dice he always carried. They’d belonged to his father, a reminder of everything he refused to be. All he had to do to remind himself that he was not his father was to touch the pair of dice. Throughout his life, he’d touched them thousands of times, and it always worked, always led him to find the calm in his soul that made him not his father. To be the kind of man his mother would have been proud of.

  For the first time since he was a boy, his rage didn’t go from boiling over back to simmering when he touched them. “I need to go somewhere for a while.”

  “Take the dog with you.”

  Noah hated the knowing look in Jack’s eyes, like his friend knew he was losing it and understood. Maybe he did. Jack had appeared three nights ago at their home base in Virginia Beach, announcing that he was taking Noah home with him. Noah had told him to go to hell.

  “You have two choices,” Jack had answered. “Come with me or tell our commander you refused to obey an order. Makes no never mind to me which you pick.”

  Noah knew his friend and teammate was there to save him, and that made him antsy. He didn’t want to need saving, had never expected to be the one his SEAL brothers had to worry about. He had his shit together. Nothing could be as bad as what his boy-self had survived, right? Or so he’d thought until his mistake caused the team’s dog and their translator to be blown up.

  * * *

  Noah took the dog with him...as far as his temporary apartment. The ants weren’t just crawling under his skin, they were biting. He couldn’t be near a dog right now. Every time he looked at the thing, he saw his team’s dog.

  After giving the dog time to do his business, Noah took him inside. “Here’s the thing, dog. I don’t own this place, so don’t chew on the furniture or pee on the floor.” Unable to think of anything else the dog needed to know, he left the creature to his own devices.

  He ended up on the Blue Ridge Parkway, his rental car pointed in the direction of the waterfall Jack had taken him to yesterday. After hiking down to the bottom of the falls, Jack had said, “This is a good place to come when you feel like you’re about to lose your shit.” He’d glanced around. “If you let it, you can find a few moments of peace here.”

  “Speaking from experience?” Noah had asked.

  “I’ve spent quiet time here, especially after I first came home.” He smiled. “Before I met Nichole.”

  That was another thing. Jack had gone and fallen in love. Noah never thought he’d see Whiskey look at a woman with sappy eyes. Nichole was great, and she’d even seemed disappointed when Noah said he was going to find an apartment to rent while he was here.

  He didn’t think Jack was happy about that, either—he’d prefer to have him where he could keep an eye on him. Understandable, since Noah had been falling down drunk when Jack arrived to collect him.

  After Noah swore there’d be no repeat performance—all the booze he’d poured down his throat hadn’t wiped his memory clean, anyway—Jack helped him find a lease-by-th
e-month place. He’d moved in right away, grateful that he hadn’t had to sit around with Jack and Nichole last night and pretend he was enjoying himself.

  If Noah had to be around people twenty-four-seven, he was going to climb out of his skin.

  * * *

  Peyton Sutton wasn’t supposed to hear her fiancé telling his best man that he was only marrying her because her father had promised him a share of her family’s brewery. The share that was supposed to be hers.

  The rat bastard. She’d only overheard the conversation because she’d gotten last-minute cold feet and wanted to talk to Dalton, needed him to assure her that they were both ready for a lifelong commitment. Turned out he was more committed to her father than to her.

  After she graduated from college, her father had dangled a carrot in front of her. Do this and a share in the company will be yours one day. Do that and the entire company will be yours one day. She’d jumped through hoops doing this and that, trying to please him. Like saying yes when Dalton asked her to marry him. Dalton was Elk Antler Brewery’s chief financial officer, the son her father had always wanted, and marrying Dalton would make Gerald Sutton happy with her.

  Well, to hell with both of them.

  She gathered up the skirts of the princess wedding gown she’d grown to hate. She was done with trying to please her father.

  From the time he’d let her hang out at Elk Antler Brewery, she’d been fascinated by the process of making beer. She’d been thirteen the first time he’d brought her there, pointing at the corner where she could do her homework. It was supposed to be punishment for not getting a perfect score on her math test.

  That day had been far from punishment and set the course of her life. She spent her afternoons at the downtown brewery, supposedly doing her homework, but anytime her father was in a meeting or out of the building, she was learning how to make beer instead. Her father’s brewmaster had taken a liking to her, and over the years he’d shared his knowledge, his love of brewing, and his recipes. She could step into his shoes and no one would notice.

  She’d returned home with degrees in business and marketing and went to work for her father. Pleasing him was impossible—even with bringing in more business with tours and events—but she’d kept trying anyway.

  Until today.

  She was over it. He’d made her a promise that he obviously had no intention of keeping. The long hours she’d put in, the heart she put into the brewery, the jumping through hoops for him apparently meant nothing.

  “Where is she?”

  Peyton stilled at hearing her father’s voice. If he found her, he’d convince her to go through with the wedding.

  With the voluminous skirts of the gown gathered up, she headed in the opposite direction. She didn’t have a plan since it hadn’t for a minute occurred to her that she’d sneak out on her own wedding.

  Three hundred and twenty-nine guests were seated in the country club ballroom waiting for her to walk down the aisle in a matter of minutes. They were sure going to be in for a surprise when the bride didn’t appear. Avoiding the ballroom, she scooted into the banquet hall. The staff setting up for the reception all stopped what they were doing to stare at her. She nodded at the bartender, snatched two bottles of champagne, and almost laughed at his wide eyes.

  “You never saw me,” she tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the door leading to the parking lot. She should be in tears, crushed, heartbroken...blah, blah, blah. Weirdly, what she felt was free.

  Outside, she paused for a moment, and as she breathed in the pine-scented mountain air, the heavy weight that had settled on her shoulders ever since Dalton had put an engagement ring on her finger lifted, carried away by the breeze. As much as she wanted to luxuriate in the feeling of freedom, she needed to go before someone found her. But where to?

  Her car wasn’t here since she’d arrived with her father in the limo he’d rented. She spied Dalton’s silver Mercedes parked near the main entrance and headed for it. Wasn’t her fault he’d once shown her where he’d hidden a spare key remote.

  She cringed at the Just Married someone had written on the rear window with white shoe polish. Couldn’t be helped. She needed a getaway car, and Dalton’s was her only choice. After retrieving the key, she unlocked the door, got in, put the champagne bottles on the passenger seat, and then spent minutes she didn’t have getting the skirts of the stupid gown inside so she could close the door.

  The next time she planned to get married, she was wearing one of those slip wedding dresses. Much easier to escape in if need be. She glanced in the rearview mirror, saw her father and Dalton walk out of the building, and hauled ass.

  With no direction in mind, she drove around, and at the entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway, turned on her blinker. What she really wanted to do was go home, get out of this ridiculous dress, put on her jammies, and then plow her way through the champagne.

  Or go to the brewery and make beer. Getting lost in recipes, that was her peace place. Where all her troubles floated away. But she couldn’t do either of those things. Home and the brewery were the first places her father and Dalton would look.

  She needed to find somewhere she could think, make a plan for where she’d go from here. After her stunt today, she doubted her father would welcome her back to the place she loved above all else. Oh, he probably would if she went back and married Dalton, but that was so not happening.

  Peyton blinked away the tears that threatened at the thought of never setting food in Elk Antler Brewery again, tears from losing something she loved...and that was not Dalton. Not good to bawl her eyes out while driving. Along with a place to consider her future, she needed somewhere she could have a good cry in private.

  After driving along the Parkway for a while, she saw a sign announcing a waterfall. No other cars were in sight in the parking lot, and she decided it was the perfect place.

  She parked in the lot, grabbed the two bottles of champagne, then headed for the trail. She stopped and eyed the steep path down. No way was she going to manage that wearing white satin heels without falling and breaking her neck. She kicked them off. The sheer white stockings the bridal shop consultant said she had to wear soon followed. They were her first ever stockings, and she hated them as much as the dress.

  Even barefoot, going down was tricky in a gown consisting of more material than all the clothes in her closet put together. A squirrel clinging upside down to a tall pine tree chattered at her as she passed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not having a good day, either.”

  She almost slipped when she stepped on a mossy rock, and, forgetting she had a champagne bottle in her hand, she grabbed hold of a rhododendron branch. The bottle rolled and bounced down the trail. Thankfully, it didn’t break. She needed that champagne.

  “Well, that wasn’t a piece of cake,” she muttered after finally making it to the waterfall with both bottles intact. Speaking of cake, she should have snatched some of her wedding cake while she was at it since she hadn’t eaten anything all day because her stomach had been in knots.

  The dress her father had paid a small fortune for was torn and dirt streaked. He wasn’t going to be happy about that, but she wasn’t happy with him, either, so they were even. She headed for a boulder with a flat surface. She tried to climb up it, but that proved impossible when wearing a million yards of...whatever the dress was made of. Fashion and fabrics weren’t her thing. Clothes were a necessity, something she had to put on before she could appear in public. And right now, there was no public, and she wanted on top of that boulder. She deserved to be up there after knowing her actions would cost her the only thing that mattered to her.

  So...it was a struggle, but she finally got the hated gown off. Irritated with the stupid thing, she tossed it to the side with more force than she’d intended.

  It tumbled down the embankment, landing in the waterfall pool.

  “Oops.”
Who knew a dress that heavy could travel so far?

  Free of the gown, she climbed up to the top of the boulder, giving thanks that it wasn’t winter, when she’d be freezing her bottom off wearing only a sexy white corset that she had wanted to wear. She’d imagined that Dalton would finally look at her with desire in his eyes when he saw her in it, spicing up their sex life.

  Although brewing beer and creating events that brought beer lovers to Elk Antler Brewery was her jam—or had been—she wanted to experience how it felt to be truly wanted by someone.

  She was, as far as she’d gathered, the result of a one-night stand between her parents. The mother she only vaguely remembered had dropped her off at her father’s when Peyton was four years old, then had disappeared from her life. Her father had kept her, but she’d never been sure he’d been happy to have her. That uncertainty was the reason she’d spent her life until now trying to please him...so he wouldn’t give her away like her mother had.

  All good reasons why the champagne should go straight down her throat. She managed to pop the cork on one of the bottles. The cork shot up before arcing and falling into the pool to join her wedding gown.

  “Cheers to me.” She lifted the bottle to her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks for what she’d lost today.

  Chapter Two

  There was only one other car parked on the dirt-packed lot at the entrance to the falls, a silver Mercedes with “Just Married” scrawled on the rear window. Shrugging off his curiosity, Noah locked the doors of his rental and headed for the trail, hoping Jack was right and a bit of peace that would quiet the ants awaited him at the bottom.

  Noah paused at the top of the trail going down, frowning at seeing the white heels, one upright and the other on its side. A pair of white stockings were draped over a nearby bush. He glanced back at the silver Mercedes. Was he going to stumble on a bride and groom, and what the devil were they doing here of all places?

  He almost turned around to leave, but curiosity got the better of him. If he discovered them getting it on—a distinct possibility considering the bride was shedding clothing—he’d discreetly disappear. Going down in stealth mode, he reached the bottom of the trail, stopping dead in his tracks when a woman said, “Cheers to me.” He blinked and then blinked again.