River's Recruit (The Sanctuary Series) Page 4
Reuben locked his gaze on Eli’s face. “Keep your paws off River until after she’s merged with her wolf.”
“Of course.”
“Jesse is your superior officer, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll have you transferred to my unit for the winter.”
“I don’t want any special favors.” Eli swallowed even though his mouth was suddenly dry. He didn’t want to spend the winter on the surface while Aspen was locked inside Sanctuary Mountain.
“It’s not a favor. I want to keep an eye on you while you’re courting River.”
Eli nodded. What choice did he have?
River
River stomped down the trail toward home. She didn’t even stop to get dressed. The laces of her vest smacked against her thigh as she swung her arms, but the sting of the rawhide strips gave her something to focus on other than her humiliation. It was bad enough that Reuben saw her as a daughter instead of a desirable woman. But then that arrogant jackass, Eli, had also insulted her. He’d called her a little girl. “Gah!”
She smacked the side of a boulder with her vest and then with her breeches. Hannah would give her hell if she tore a hole in the buckskin, but it felt good to unleash her fury on something.
She jerked her clothes on and shoved her feet into her boots then tipped her face to the sky and screamed, “I am not a child!” She realized, even as she did it, that her tantrum did not support her declaration. Her temper cooled, leaving her with nothing but humiliation and shame.
She went straight to the stable to seek comfort from Sugar. She threw her arms around her neck and buried her face in her mane. “Reuben doesn’t want to mate with me.”
“River?” Gabriel’s head peeked over the stall. He was only fifteen, but he was nearly as tall as Reuben.
River groaned. If she’d known he was in there, she would have gone somewhere else to cry. “Go away.”
Gabriel slipped into Sugar’s stall and pulled River against his chest. “I’ll mate with you.”
“You can’t.” River didn’t want to hurt Gabriel’s feelings, but there was no way she’d ever mate with him. “You haven’t merged yet.”
“I’ll ask Pa to let me force it.”
“Force what?” Reuben stepped into the stable.
River tried to pull away from Gabriel, but he only held her tighter.
He threw his shoulders back and lifted his chin. “I want to merge early so I’ll be ready for River.”
“No.”
“Why not? You don’t want her.”
Gabriel’s words stung.
“I’m your father and your alpha. I don’t have to give you a reason.” Power rolled off Reuben, agitating the horses. Thunder kicked his stall. Reuben reined his wolf in and gentled his voice. “But I’ll give you several. You’re too young. Forcing a merge before you’ve finished growing is dangerous. You’re still an apprentice with no way to support a family. And I’ve already found a mate for River.”
River ran through a mental list of all the men that had yet to choose their alpha or beta mates and came up short. Reuben had just told her he wouldn’t let someone take her as a lesser mate, or a concubine. “Who?”
Reuben looked up, as if he’d forgotten she was even there. “My nephew, Eli, son of Zebulon’s daughter.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together and flared his nostrils. His chest heaved with each ragged breath as he tried to maintain eye contact with Reuben. It was a valiant effort, but Gabriel couldn’t defy a fully grown alpha. Not yet. He dropped his gaze and lowered his head, then bolted out of the stable.
River tried to swallow around the lump in her throat, but only managed to gulp air. “I’m not mating with Eli. He doesn’t even like me.”
“Just keep an open mind while he courts you.”
“What did you do? Promise to promote him if he took me off your hands?”
Reuben closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, confirming her suspicions. He moved his hand to the back of his neck and rolled his head, as if he was in pain. “If you aren’t mated before Gabriel’s sixteenth birthday, I’ll let him force an early merge.”
“I love Gabriel but not like that. I can’t mate with him.”
Reuben smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now you know how I feel about you.”
CHAPTER TWO
Shattered
Jonathan sat on his bunk and unwrapped the elastic bandage around his foot. Of all the ways he could have gotten injured in a war zone, how stupid was it to sprain his damn ankle hopping out of a Humvee? The guys in his unit teased him for being SLL…sick, lame and lazy. They didn’t mean anything by it, but it still bugged him. If anyone got wounded on patrol while he was stuck on base, he’d never forgive himself.
He hobbled to the showers, hung his dogtags and towel on a hook then stepped under the steaming stream of water. A leisurely shower was a rare treat, but Jonathan couldn’t enjoy it. Not with his team out on patrol, sweltering in the heat, choking on the sunbaked dust that permeated everything and crusted their sweaty bodies like a second skin.
He squeegeed the water off his arms and chest with his hands then reached behind him for his towel. It wasn’t there.
A sharp snap, followed by a stinging pain on the side of his hip, startled him. Jonathan whirled around, putting too much weight on his injured ankle. Damn, that hurt. He glanced at the soldier’s sleeve, checking his rank, before deciding to cuss the guy out. But when he lifted his gaze to the soldier’s face, his mouth fell open.
Franklin grinned and handed Jonathan the towel. “Get dressed. I’ve got a job for you.”
Franklin was the LDS chaplain’s assistant so he travelled all over Afghanistan; but this was only the second time he’d visited Jonathan’s base.
“Frankie! What are you doing here?” Jonathan wrapped the towel around his waist then bear-hugged his twin.
“We’re heading over to Bagram to give a couple of the guys a priesthood blessing. We could use an extra gun on the drive. Wanna go?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Franklin grinned and punched Jonathan’s shoulder. “Do us both a favor and watch your language in front of the chaplain.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Hell’s not even a real swear word.”
The chaplain fell asleep in the back before they’d even made it off base, giving Jonathan and Franklin a chance to talk. He stayed asleep even when the pot-hole riddled, bone jarring, teeth rattling excuse for a road turned into little more than a goat path. It was a challenge even for the rugged Humvee. It’d be a miracle if the decrepit van in front of them made it up the next hill.
The hair on the back of Jonathan’s neck stood on end. He was probably just being paranoid, but the road was going to get a lot narrower in less than a half mile; perfect for an ambush. “Hey Frankie, can you get around this guy? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Franklin didn’t argue. He didn’t ask why. He didn’t even arch an eyebrow. He just rolled down his window and leaned his head outside, edging closer to the sheer cliff on the side of the mountain.
River
Thunder’s sides heaved. He blew foam with every breath, but River was desperate. She couldn’t slow down to spare the horse. Hannah had been in hard labor for over twenty-four hours. Two midwives, working together failed to turn the baby. Reuben’s sister, Shula was a doctor. She couldn’t use any outsider medicine, but maybe her advanced medical skills could save Hannah.
River turned Thunder over to the stable boy and ran towards Sanctuary Mountain’s hidden entrance.
“Halt.” The guard’s voice was stern but not harsh. “State your business.”
“River, daughter of Asher and Issachar’s daughter, requests an audience with Shula, daughter of Zebulon and Israel’s daughter.” River’s heart pounded. The last time she’d been inside Sanctuary Mountain, Mother had been falsely accused, tried and executed.
The guard glanced at her face then threw his shoulders back as he tilted his head to
the left and dipped his chin. “You may enter.”
These Sanctuary Mountain types were so impressed with bloodlines it was pathetic. “Can someone please escort me to Shula’s quarters? I don’t know the way.”
“I’ll take her.” A young enforcer stepped out of the shadows and lit a torch.
River’s blood ran cold when she recognized Eli. She couldn’t stand him, but the fact that he never showed his face at the ranch after Reuben told her he’d arranged to have Eli court her was insulting.
Eli turned towards the entrance and pointed at a child in servant’s clothing. “You there, fetch me a ration of jerky and fruit. Bring it to my enclave.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy bowed at the waist then took off at a dead run, his bare feet slapping the smooth rock floor of the tunnel.
Eli jerked his head towards the entrance. “Let’s go.”
River ducked her head, to hide her flaming cheeks. “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t pretend to honor me by bowing in my presence or addressing me as ‘sir.’”
“I wasn’t bowing.” River straightened her spine and lifted her gaze to his face. She couldn’t tell by his expression what he was thinking, or if he even recognized her. “How should I address you?”
“My name is Eli. You may address me as such.”
“I know who you are.” River paused, giving Eli a chance to say something…anything…about why he hadn’t begun to court her. The silence between them begged to be broken. “The first time I came inside Sanctuary, it was to witness your merge.”
Eli looked down his nose and scanned River’s body. “You aren’t old enough to have witnessed my merge.”
River didn’t know whether she was more insulted by the way he examined her like a common whore—or that he was so obviously unimpressed by what he saw. But the fact that he didn’t even recognize her was beyond humiliating.
He smirked at her then took off down a side tunnel without another word.
River had to jog to catch up with him.
Eli led her deep inside Sanctuary, past dozens of curtained alcoves before stopping in front of a red velvet curtain. He pushed it aside and motioned for River to enter.
Her eyes widened at the rich opulence inside. But she wouldn’t mate with Eli even if he owned the entire mountain.
“Mother? Uncle Reuben’s…” Eli paused and looked at River. “What are you anyway? Servant?”
“No!”
“Well, you’re too young to be his concubine.”
“I’m plenty old enough! But I’m not a concubine.” River’s cheeks flushed. If Eli knew she belonged to Reuben’s household, he also knew exactly who she was.
Another set of velvet curtains parted on the other side of the room. Shula entered. Her brow wrinkled in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to speak with you in private.”
“Did Reuben send you?”
It was a crime for surface dwellers to seek medical aid from Sanctuary doctors. But River didn’t know what else to do. “No. I came on my own.”
Shula’s eyes softened. “It’s Hannah, isn’t it?”
River nodded.
“I’ll go.”
Eli's face paled. “You can’t. I’ll have to arrest you!”
“It’s not illegal if I join them first.”
“Join them? You’ll give up everything.”
“You’ve been reassigned to serve under Reuben. You’ll be on the surface all winter. We’ll see much more of each other this way.”
So, Reuben was still trying to force them together.
Eli glared at River.
Her face burned even hotter. Did he blame her for his winter assignment? Did he think she was behind it—that she’d asked Reuben to arrange it? Well, she’d set him straight the first chance she got. Arrogant jackass.
Shula reached for Eli’s face.
He batted her hand away before she touched him. “What about next winter? And the one after that? You can never come home.”
“We’ll all be sealed inside the Mountain once the cleansing starts.”
River didn’t like to think about the Great and Glorious Year of Cleansing; even when she was on the surface. But with the full weight of Sanctuary above her, just the thought of spending a year sealed up inside the mountain sucked the air out of her lungs. She hadn’t seen the communal quarters where the surface dwellers would live, but from what she’d heard, it wasn’t going to be anything close to this. It wouldn’t matter how much alpha blood ran through her veins, River would never live in this kind of luxury. Unless she were mated to Eli—not worth it.
Eli glared at River, as if he could read her mind, then grabbed Shula’s shoulders. “I forbid you to join them.”
“I’m sorry.” Shula palmed Eli’s cheek. “Reuben’s my brother.”
He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. His voice was barely a whisper. “You don’t owe him anything.”
“I owe him everything.”
River agreed. Shula had run away when she was seventeen, merged with her spirit guide and mated with an outsider. If she weren’t Zebulon’s daughter, she would have been executed the moment she was captured. Instead, he granted her a stay of execution and ordered she be whipped instead.
Reuben was over a hundred years older than Shula and her only full-blood sibling. Their relationship was more parent-child than brother-sister. Reuben volunteered to stand in as proxy for Shula and took her punishment. It was easy to see from his scars that Shula would not have survived the beating and Eli would have never been born.
“Please, Mother.” Eli blinked, obviously fighting tears. “Don’t do this.”
River dropped her gaze and studied the patterns woven into the carpet beneath her boots. Eli was a grown man and an Enforcer. Why was he acting like a child? River had stood in front of the council three days after Mother’s execution while they decided her fate. She hadn’t shed a single tear. River extended her hand and touched Shula’s elbow. “Please, we need to hurry.”
All citizens of New Eden knew how to ride, but the heirs of Sanctuary didn’t spend hours on horseback the way surface dwellers did. Thunder was the fastest horse in New Eden, but Shula couldn’t keep up. So, River was forced to ride at a much slower pace. All she could do was pray that Hannah and her baby would still be alive when they got there.
Jonathan
Gentle fingers stroked Jonathan’s face. A hot tear fell on his brow as cold lips pressed a kiss to his cheek. A quiet, but persistent, beep, beep, beep was annoying the hell out of him.
“Baby? Can you hear me?”
Mom?
“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
Jonathan was so tired, so sleepy. His left eye refused to open at all and his right eye only opened enough to reveal a blurry band of light.
“Charles, get in here! He’s awake.”
Where am I? As his vision cleared, Jonathan recognized the clear plastic bag hanging from a steel pole above him as an IV. Everything hurt—even his hair. He tried to draw a deep breath, but gasped when pain shot across his ribs. His left hand was on fire. It throbbed in time with that infernal beeping.
Jonathan turned his head and raised his left arm. It was bandaged from pit to wrist. And ended six inches before it should have.
Mom kissed his forehead. “You’re okay baby. Please calm down. You’re in the ICU at Landstuhl Hospital. You’re safe now.”
Safe? Jonathan groaned as another wave of pain shot up his arm and across his ribs. What happened? The last thing he remembered, he was riding shotgun with Franklin and the chaplain to Bagram.
“Calm down, Frankie. It’s okay.”
Frankie? Is he here, too? It was hard to think, hard to put the words together coherently, but he had to know. His mouth refused to cooperate. Was his jaw wired shut? “Is…is he?”
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Mom’s hands on his cheeks were cool, but the tear that dripped off the tip of her nose onto his forehead was hot. “Jonathan’s missing.”
The room spun. She thinks I’m Franklin. I must be messed up pretty bad if Mom can’t tell the difference.
“Not Franklin…Jonathan.” His garbled speech was impossible to decipher.
“It’s okay, Frankie. The army’s doing everything in their power to find him.”
“No…”
Mom smoothed her hand over Jonathan’s forehead—as if she could still brush away the curls the army’d shaved off months ago. “The last time anyone saw your brother, he was on base, recovering from a sprained ankle. He probably snuck off and went looking for trouble. He left his dog tags hanging in the shower.”
Jonathan pantomimed writing in the air.
Mom handed him a pen and held a notebook steady for him so he could write.
I’m not Franklin.
Mom stumbled away from him and crashed into a stainless steel cart.
A man in green scrubs darted across the room and caught her before she hit the floor.
Someone yelled, “Get her out of here!”
The man dragged Mom out of the room but her sobs continued to echo down the hall even after the door swung shut. “Where’s Franklin? Where’s my baby?”
A doctor snagged a wheeled stool with his foot and pulled it next to Jonathan’s bed.
Jonathan’s hand shook as he wrote: My brother, PFC Franklin McKnight and Chaplain Stewart were in the humvee with me. Are they okay?
The doctor placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder as he leaned in to read the note. “I’m sorry, son. There were no other survivors.”
The words ‘no other survivors’ ricocheted against the corners of Jonathan’s skull. His sides heaved, but he couldn’t catch his breath. He squeezed the pen so tightly his fingers ached as he wrote: PFC Franklin McKnight. MIA?
The doc shook his head. “There were three men evacuated from the site of the attack. You, the chaplain and an unidentified soldier. During triage, we found Franklin McKnight’s dog tags in your pocket. A medic must have found them near you and assumed they were yours. We’re working on identifying the unknown soldier, but considering the evidence, I’m afraid it’s not going to be good news.”