Chapter 1
Brian Meng Ken aka “Barbie,”a veteran recon Marine, and the newest member of Brotherhood Protectors, turned to see what his boss, Hank “Montana” Patterson, was watching as they talked about the security at Three C’s Ranch.
The Triple C Ranch, affectionately known as the Three C’s Ranch, was one of two Three C’s facilities in the United States, where women came after they had been attacked or abused. They came to learn new skills in order to move beyond simply surviving to thriving in their future lives.
Not every woman was accepted into the program. First, a doctor had to certify she was clear of alcohol and drugs and fit to travel, swim, ride horses and take self-defense classes. Her finances had to be in order, and there could be no upcoming court appearances. Once at the center, they had to stay until their time was done. If they had to leave for any reason, they couldn’t return. Still, there was a waiting list.
While the centers were nonprofit organizations with generous donors, there was a sliding-fee scale based on income. Women were expected to contribute. Breaking a dependent cycle was part of the center's work with victims who’d been attacked or abused, so they were nudged out of the nest like baby birds just as soon as they appeared able to fly independently.
Unfortunately, their “nest” at the Triple C’s Ranch in Montana had been attacked and was still under repair.
Hank was watching a shapely, silver-haired woman to Brian’s far left, as the pretty woman walked toward a broom—directly toward it, as if she didn’t see the broom.
Hank turned away from the conversation he and Brian were having and called out, “Cecelia, stop.”
She stopped, turning toward Hank. At that moment, Brian realized Cecelia was blind.
Hank hurried over to her, moved the broom out of the way, and said, “There was a broom in your direct line.”
“Oh. Thank you,” she replied, her voice soft, her tone relieved. “My shins have taken a real beating since all these workmen started on the repairs.”
“They don’t think,” Hank said.
“No, they don’t,” she said. “One left out a ladder after he’d finished for the day, and another left extension cords all over the place. Now, a broom. I’ll be glad when their work is done, and things get back to normal around here.”
“I bet you will,” Hank said. “Where’s your cane?”
“At my desk,” she said. “I was only heading to the restroom. Usually, there’s nothing in my path in this direction.”
Brian listened to her voice, the soft tones floating into his ears like a melody he wouldn’t soon forget.
She looked too young to have silver hair, but perhaps she’d colored it that way. Straight and silky, it hung to her shoulders. Silver, sleek, and cut straight across the bottom. Touchable hair. The kind he enjoyed running his fingers through.
Brian took in the sight of her, as though she was a long drink of cool water, his slow perusal of her unhampered. She couldn’t see the way he drank her in, which meant his gaze could take her in as long as he wanted. He enjoyed the journey.
She wore a pink tank top over full, rounded breasts, her tank top ending just above her belly button as the tank had bunched up. A thick brown leather belt held up faded blue jeans, which molded to her curves.
She is stunning.
“All clear ahead?” Her tone held a note of laughter now, and not an ounce of weakness.
“All clear,” Hank replied. “I’ll have a word with the workmen about picking up after themselves.”
“No need,” she replied. “I should’ve had my cane. The men have been told. They don’t listen anyway, and besides,” she shrugged, “I need to find my own way around things.”
“You’re an inspiration to many,” Leah White Crane said, as she came down the hall toward them. The Native American woman knew the women at the ranch quite well, as she was the on-site counselor Hank had introduced Brian to before she’d been called away to her office to handle a small crisis, leaving the men standing here talking about the job.
“When women come here with an ‘I can’t attitude,’ and see you running the front office, keeping everything straight,” Leah said with a smile in her voice. “It’s not long before they lose that ‘can’t’ and begin to think ‘I can’.”
“I don’t do any more than another woman with my training.” Cecelia said.
“Cecelia, I’d like you to meet Brian,” Hank said. “He just joined Brotherhood Protectors and will be security on the night shift here at the ranch.”
“Cecelia is our receptionist and secretary and lives on site,” Leah said.
Brian swallowed. “Nice to meet you, Cecelia.”
Cecelia moved toward him, smiling and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you as well, Brian.”
