When they were ready, he hired out teams to corporations or wealthy individuals who needed ramped-up protection and safekeeping.Paxton Security maintained the highest standards.His reputation in the industry was unparalleled; he guarded it jealously.Ben worked hard and he made money.
Not supermodel money, but still.Now, with the new men coming in, he could expand.
It wasn’t a good time to leave.Thinking long and hard, in the end, he realized he was powerless to resist.Sarah Lang had gotten herself in trouble and he had to answer that call.
He punched the intercom button.“Marge, get me a flight out to Billings, Montana.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said without question.Marge was accustomed to his barked orders, unconventional schedule, and sudden departures.In the front office, she was a gem.
Drumming his fingers on the desk, he hesitated one last time.His own eagerness was enough to give him pause.
Could he handle this?Was Rio right about him?Could he rely upon years of professional distance and clarity of mind to find out who was stalking Sarah Lang, and then neutralize him?
Or ...when clear consideration was vitally needed, would his secret crush on her cloud his judgment?The stalker’s threats must be taken seriously, and Sarah’s life might well hang in the balance.To be properly prepared, he needed the Zen calmness, the internal strength he’d honed in many trial-by-fire battles he’d lived through in the SEAL Teams.
He was desperate to go, yet he must be honest or it wouldn’t serve her.If he couldn’t be objective, he’d be forced to choose another to go to get the job done.
Pushing up from the desk, Ben walked to the window that overlooked the adjacent concrete yard.In bright sunlight, the outside area was filled with workout equipment and sweating men.Named after the iconic yard, The Grinder, at Naval Base Coronado in California, where all SEAL candidates met their personal come-to-Jesus moments, this place, too, they’d dubbed The Grinder, and the nickname stuck.
Crossing his arms, he watched a group of men perform endless pushups, jumping jacks, and flutter kicks, just as BUD/s aspirants were required to do.In that moment, he knew a quiet satisfaction.
Here, he fashioned his regimen to closely resemble the Navy’s difficult program, and he turned out competent military-style guardians.Paxton Security was a fine business, and growing.Ben was proud of its achievements.He’d done it.He’d carved out a useful place in the world.
Still observing the trainees, he figured it was, on occasion, a good thing to question one’s motives.A man shouldn’t get so full of himself that he couldn’t look inward, do a little introspection.The stakes for Sarah were high.
Now he’d worked through that process.At thirty-eight he’d pretty much seen and done it all.He really had no reason to doubt his own capabilities.
Abruptly, Ben straightened and asked himself, then why the mental gymnastics?Why was he dicking around?He’d already made his decision.He’d made it the instant he heard that Sarah’s life was in jeopardy.
By God, he was going to Montana.
With his very last breath he’d protect her from the threat.
Chapter Two
Kneeling on hands andknees in the rich soil of Montana’s cattle country, Sarah Lang used a rusted coffee can to scoop out rocks and packed dirt from a foot-deep hole.Sitting back on her haunches, she surveyed her progress.Nope, not deep enough.She needed another vertical foot before she could set the new fence post and fill it with Quikrete.
