Jack West stood face-to-face with Janet, the two of them locked in some kind of argument. “I know every man, woman, and child on my land, SA Killeen. I don’t need you checking IDs or running background on my people. I understand you want to protect Ms. Nilsson. So do I. But I’ve got twenty men here, every single one of whom knows how to use a firearm. They’ve all been made aware of the situation. Laura is safe under my roof. I guarantee you that.”

Looking uncomfortably cold in a navy-blue pantsuit, Janet held her ground, the other agent standing behind her, his eyes hidden behind Ray-Bans. “I have no intention of running background on every person on your property, Mr. West, but I would like to get an idea of the layout of the ranch and the house in case—”

Jack cut across her. “I’m telling you that’s not necessary. There’s nothing you can learn from a map that I can’t tell you if it comes down to it. Now, either come inside for a bite to eat, or get the hell off my property.”

Janet shook her head, handing Jack her card. “Call sooner rather than too late—and thanks so much for your cooperation.”

Then she climbed into her car and headed back toward the highway, the other agent following her just as Nate climbed out of his truck.

Nate looked at his father over the top of his sunglasses. “Looks like you sent that pretty FBI agent packing.”

“Was she pretty? I didn’t notice.” Jack walked over to Laura and took her hand between his. “Good to see you again, Laura. I hear your neighbors don’t want you bringing trouble to their doorstep. Well, you can feel free to bring it to mine. Anyone who comes looking for trouble here is damned well going to find it.”

Laura’s throat went tight. “Thank you.”

* * *

JAVIER PUSHED WITH every bit of remaining strength he had, his muscles maxed, his right pectorals and shoulder screaming, ribs that had recently healed protesting as his body tensed. He ignored the pain, fighting for every inch.

Nate stood over him, spotting. “You got it! You’ve got it! Come on!”

The bar started to dip on the right, his injured muscles struggling to match the strength on his left side.

“Want an assist?”

“No!” He grunted the word from between gritted teeth, fighting to level the barbell, his right arm shaking.

Slowly, so slowly, the bar leveled, inching upward as he finished his last rep.

Nate took the weight and settled the barbell into place. “Way to tough it out, man. I couldn’t manage that on my best day.”

Javier sat up, sweat trickling down his temples, his muscles pumped and burning. He grabbed a towel, wiped his face, and stood. Nate might be impressed, but Javier wasn’t. He still wasn’t benching his max—three-fifteen—and he’d barely made it through this set. Still, he was getting stronger.

He rubbed his shoulder, pressed a hand to his aching ribs. “Who are you fooling, West? You’re the toughest son of a bitch I know.”

Nate hadn’t lost only skin in the fire, but muscle and tendons, too. The fact that he was working out every day, lifting weights, working on the ranch was proof that he had a kind of strength few men possessed.

“I sure as hell can’t bench two-ninety.”

The two of them began to remove weights from the bar.

“How is it being together with Laura again?”

“It’s good. It’s not like it was before, of course. With all she’s been through . . .”

Nate nodded. “A woman who’s been hurt like she was hurt needs a lot of time and love to heal. How is she handling the news about the bomber?”

“It’s shaken her up pretty badly, but she’s hanging in there. She wants to visit his family, express her condolences.”

Nate gave a surprised “Huh.”

“She’s got a big heart. That’s what makes her such a great reporter. I just don’t want to see her get hurt again because of it. The world is full of people ready to fuck other people over. What if this kid’s parents are sorry their son failed?”

“If that’s the case, McBride won’t let her near them.” Nate tightened the clamps on the barbell. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

“I’m going to make damned sure no one gets a second chance at her. They want to hurt her, they have to get through me.”

“I respect that, man, but she gets a lot of media attention. If you get too caught up in this, NSW is bound to get wind of it. Think they’re going to want you hanging around her, playing bodyguard? If your photo ends up on the nightly news beside hers, you’ll find yourself up to your ears in shit.”

Nate settled on the bench for his last set, while Javier got into position to spot.

Nate was right, of course. If Javier was connected with Laura, the brass at NSW wouldn’t like it. They’d have a lot of questions for him. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t turn my back on her and walk away.”

There was more to it than that. Being with Laura, watching over her, made Javier feel needed again. It made him feel like he was doing something. It made him feel like a man. But he couldn’t explain that to Nate.

“Hell, what would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“Probably the same thing you’re doing.”

Nate lay back, worked through his set, then sat and reached for his water bottle, drinking in thirsty gulps. Their workout over, he stood, grabbed a spray bottle and cloth, and began to wipe down the equipment. “You’ve got a lot going on without taking on Laura’s problems, too. JG called. He’s worried about you.”

¡Que mierda! Shit! “Yeah? He’s worse than a mother hen.”

“You’re saying he doesn’t have reason to worry, that your refusing therapy is somehow not a problem?”

“I passed the psych screening. Why the hell should I go to therapy?”

Nate set the spray bottle and rag aside. “They say you played to the test.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“You know what it means. You’ve been through it before, and you gave them the answers you knew they were looking for rather than telling the truth.”

Javier picked up his water and drank, trying not to lose his temper. “I came here to chill and get away from that bullshit.”

“And you’re welcome for as long as you want to stay, but there’s got to be honesty between us. What’s going on, Javier?”

When Javier didn’t have a ready answer, Nate answered for him.

“I know what happened. I know the whole story. I know about the decision you had to make. I know about the ambush and the medevac helo crash. JG isn’t the only one who’s called me. Pretty much every surviving member of the squad has either called or e-mailed asking about you.”

Javier did not want to go there.

“I can’t change what happened. I made the call, and I can’t do a damned thing about how it turned out. Sitting in some stuffy office crying to some therapist who’s never been in combat is not going to change things either.” Javier turned to face Nate. “I’ve been in and out of combat for fourteen years. I know what I can handle, man. I don’t need their help. I’m not some fucking pussy.”

“Are you saying that JG, Wilson, Ross, Zimmerman—all the guys who are getting treatment are pussies?”

“No.” ¡Carajo! That wasn’t what he’d meant. “They’re good operators, hard chargers, hard-core team guys. They get the job done.”

“What’s different about you? Why does it make you a pussy if you get help, but not the rest of the team? Oh, I get it. You’re the Cobra. You get within striking distance of the enemy, and it’s over. But if it all goes sideways and the wrong men die, you don’t need help like the rest of us mere mortals.”

“Knock it the fuck off, West.”

Nate came face-to-face with him. “I know something’s not right, and the fact that you won’t even talk about it with me scares the hell out of me. A bar fight, Corbray? Yeah, I know about that, too. You’re not facing charges only because the man you punched happened to be another operator. He had too much respect for you to turn your ass in.”

Okay, this shit needed to end now.

“You want to know what’s wrong, man? People keep getting in my face, pushing me, acting like I’m going to fall the fuck apart. But I haven’t. I won’t. They were talking about giving me a training job.”

“What’s wrong with that? Every kid who had the chance to learn from you would be lucky because he’d be learning from the best of the best. What you’d teach them would save lives, ensure the success of their missions.”

Nate didn’t get it. He just didn’t understand.

“Combat is what I do, man. It’s what I’ve done for fourteen years.”

“Maybe fourteen years is enough.” At the look on Javier’s face, Nate let out a frustrated gust of breath. “You know what this is really about? It’s about you believing that you have to be perfect just to be as good as everyone else.”

Javier let out a laugh. “Is that supposed to make sense?”

Nate jabbed a finger toward Javier’s chest. “Somewhere inside, you’re still the Puerto Rican gangbanger who’s still trying to prove to his parents and himself that he’s not the loser they thought he was.”

Javier took a step toward Nate. “Watch it, man.”

But there was only concern on Nate’s face. “Are you going to hit me now?”

Javier turned away from him, shocked at the sheer force of the rage surging through him, his heart a jackhammer in his chest, his face burning. He drew a deep breath, willed his fists to unclench. He grabbed his towel and headed for the door. “I think it’s time Laura and I headed back to Denver.”

“You just got here. You’re going to run away rather than talk to me?” There was no condemnation in Nate’s voice, just disappointment. “Laura’s in the stables with Megan, but give them some time. Megan knows more about what Laura has been through than the rest of us.”