After only two days in therapy, he knew he didn’t need coddling—he needed to get into those mountains.
When asked if he was fit for the training, his therapist sat back in her chair and given her assessment. “Mentally, he’s solid.”
A few heads turned toward her. One of the group cocked a brow. “Define solid.”
Rhae had leaned back, completely at ease. “My standard is simple.” She nodded toward Archer, then toward the small weight of her young daughter in his arms. “Would I trust him with Navy?”
Archer had looked down. The toddler blinked up at him, completely unconcerned with the weight of the moment. One small hand fisted in his shirt, holding tight.
After that, there was nothing left to discuss. That very day Archer made the move from the therapy lodge to the Black Heart Tactical Training Facility barracks. The training had rebuilt him. Refined him. Given him back the edge he’d lost.
Oaks thumped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of the memory. “We could use someone like you on the Black Heart Security team.”
He blinked, the rest of the reverie fading. “You offering me a job?”
Not only was the Black Heart Ranch a working ranch, it housed the therapy program and a security agency.
“Personal protection officer. You’d be working with the best.” He grinned, because the best meant him. “No pressure. Give it some thought.”
Archer nodded. It was a good offer, the kind of path that most men in his position would take without hesitation.
A shame it wasn’t enough.
As he watched Oaks walk away, Oaks’s brother Denver stepped into his place. The man had an air of danger that was different from Oaks’s, like he already knew how things would play out and was just waiting for everyone else to catch up.
“Great work, man.” He shook Archer’s hand.
“Thanks.”
Denver got straight to the point. “You got a minute?”
“Yeah.”
They moved closer to the windows, the mountains stretched out in front of them. Denver followed his line of sight. “You keep looking out there like you’re already planning your next move.”
“I am.”
“What’d you come up with?”
Archer met his gaze. “Depends on what you wanted to talk about.”
Denver issued a huff. “I might have something for you.”
“What kind of something?”
Denver glanced at Oaks’s retreating back. “Not ranch security.”
A small knot in his chest tightened. “You have my attention.”
“There’s a team. Special operations. Off-grid. I can’t say more.”
Archer didn’t hesitate because he didn’t have any doubts. “That’s what I want.”
Denver studied him for a beat, then nodded once. “Let me make some calls.”
Archer’s gaze drifted back to the mountains and the last light cutting across the peaks in sharp contrasts of gold and shadow.
He didn’t need to hear the rest. He already knew. This was what he’d fought his way back for.
