Read Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2 for Free Online Page A

familiar.
    Rangers gut twisted with a feeling he’d so far only harbored for his dead best friend. Jealousy.
    “We leave before we bring you trouble,” Pedro said.
    “No. You two aren’t going anywhere. I’ll call the sheriff and let him know so he can keep an eye out. I can’t run this place without you.”
    “I can help. I know how to deal with people like Santos.” Ranger had no intention of letting the pair leave and break Amy’s heart. Even if Pedro was giving her goo-goo eyes. He would stake out her place, camp on her front lawn if he had to, whether she wanted it or not.
    “Don’t need your help. We’ve got it. Right Pedro?” Amy foraged on.
    “Please papa, I don’t want to go.” Artie’s baby brown eyes pleaded worse than a lost puppy. No way anyone could turn that kid down.
    “Yes, miss. We stay. You want to run the plane tomorrow? I have it ready.”
    “I can’t tomorrow. I’ve got something else to do.” Amy grabbed Artie and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. “I can’t run this place without you either little man.”
    “I’m going to make you a special present, Miss Amy.” Artie gave her a quick hug. “But no painting.”
    Pedro and Arturo said their goodbyes. She’d given her old farmhouse to them rent-free earlier this year when Pedro had shown up looking for work. When any other single woman would have hid behind a locked door, she had let them in. Given them a home. A job. A chance at life. His woman had a kind heart. An innocent heart. “You're a good woman.”
    And one that would get her killed if she didn’t get help with the Lobellos.
    “Anyone would do it,” she said.
    The sun sank lower, and the shadows stretched across the hangar. Heavy air pressed him down almost as much as his worry. A threat from the Lobellos wasn’t anything to take lightly. His recon on the gang had been so far from small-town-wanna-be-gang, they almost qualified for the Mexican Mafia.
    In fact, they operated a lot like ISA, the Islamic State of Afghanistan, which Ranger fought overseas. The same ISA that killed Shane.
    The Lobello’s initiation required a “triple.” One drug deal. One rape. One kill. By the time a member reached the next level, their face was tattooed with an L from cheek to chin. Santos had most definitely reached level five.
    Amy and her innocent heart would be trampled in a second. “Not just anybody would take in a complete stranger.” Ranger tugged her to him. “Amy, I’m going to run home and take a shower, grab an overnight bag. I’ll stay here. Make sure Santos doesn’t come back.”
    “Ranger, I can’t do this. We can’t do this.” She tugged back, but he held firm.
    She had to understand. He wasn’t letting her go. His muscles pulled tighter than rigger cord beneath an open parachute canopy on a HALO jump. He wasn’t leaving her alone to be trapped and tortured by a psychotic gang. “You might not want me to, but there is no way I’m letting you stay here, alone, with Santos’s threat. He will come back.”
    “I’m not alone. Pedro is here. I have a gun. We’ll be fine.” She crossed her arms, looked at him like he would just say okay and leave.
    Not on her life.
    “No, you won’t. I’ve fought men like him. They’re dirty and dangerous. And if you think some puny shotgun and an illegal immigrant with a five-year-old can protect you, your nuts. Think of Chloe. Do you want to risk her? Santos is coming back. He might not tonight, but he wants you. I saw it. And if he gets you, I might not be able to save you.”
    Amy’s face drained of any color. Her lip trembled and Ranger wanted to hold her, tell her she would be okay. The look of desperate fear on her face ripped his heart. But she had to understand, and if he had to use her baby to make her realize the danger, he would. He’d seen too much death in his job to just let her go. Let her fend for herself. Ranger gripped her arms hard and fought the images flashing in his mind. Images of