Blind Trust

  Blind Trust

  Brotherhood Protectors World

  Debra Parmley

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Montana Marine

  Chapter 1

  About Debra Parmley

  Original Brotherhood Protectors Series

  About Elle James

  Copyright © 2019, Debra Parmley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2019 Twisted Page Press, LLC ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Brotherhood Protectors

  Original Series by Elle James

  Brotherhood Protectors Series

  Montana SEAL (#1)

  Bride Protector SEAL (#2)

  Montana D-Force (#3)

  Cowboy D-Force (#4)

  Montana Ranger (#5)

  Montana Dog Soldier (#6)

  Montana SEAL Daddy (#7)

  Montana Ranger’s Wedding Vow (#8)

  Montana SEAL Undercover Daddy (#9)

  Cape Cod SEAL Rescue (#10)

  Montana SEAL Friendly Fire (#11)

  Montana SEAL’s Mail-Order Bride (#12)

  Montana Rescue (Sleeper SEAL)

  Hot SEAL Salty Dog (SEALs in Paradise)

  Brotherhood Protectors Vol 1

  Dedicated to Elle James, for your friendship through the years, for publishing my books, especially the ones dear to my heart set at Three C’s ranch, and for your support and encouragement. Love you bunches.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Elle James and Twisted Pages Press. Thank you to Sheri L. McGathy for the gorgeous cover. Thank you to Delilah Devlin for editing. Thank you to my PA and sister, Kimberly Lear, for your hard work all year and for your love, support and encouragement. Thank you to Charles “Tazz” Welshan’s for advice on San Diego, Marines, action adventure capture and fight scenes and for many years of advice and encouragement. To all the guys at White Rabbit Protection, thanks for the classes and hands on knife exercises.

  To Michael Parmley, my husband and patron of the arts these many years, now cook, beta reader, plot advisor and first editor. There are so many things large and small that you do to help me throughout the year, I could never list them all. I Love you.

  Thank you to my readers and reviewers, for reading, reviewing and telling others about my books. We are a symbiotic circle and I appreciate you more than I can say.

  I love you all.

  Chapter 1

  Brian Meng Ken aka “Barbie,” a veteran recon Marine, and the newest member of Brotherhood Protectors, turned to see what his boss, Hank “Montana” Patterson, was watching as they talked about the security at Three C’s Ranch.

  The Triple C Ranch, affectionately known as the Three C’s Ranch, was one of two Three C’s facilities in the United States, where women came after they had been attacked or abused. They came to learn new skills in order to move beyond simply surviving to thriving in their future lives.

  Not every woman was accepted into the program. First, a doctor had to certify she was clear of alcohol and drugs and fit to travel, swim, ride horses and take self-defense classes. Her finances had to be in order, and there could be no upcoming court appearances. Once at the center, they had to stay until their time was done. If they had to leave for any reason, they couldn’t return. Still, there was a waiting list.

  While the centers were nonprofit organizations with generous donors, there was a sliding-fee scale based on income. Women were expected to contribute. Breaking a dependent cycle was part of the center's work with victims who’d been attacked or abused, so they were nudged out of the nest like baby birds just as soon as they appeared able to fly independently.

  Unfortunately, their “nest” at the Triple C’s Ranch in Montana had been attacked and was still under repair.

  Hank was watching a shapely, silver-haired woman to Brian’s far left, as the pretty woman walked toward a broom—directly toward it, as if she didn’t see the broom.

  Hank turned away from the conversation he and Brian were having and called out, “Cecelia, stop.”

  She stopped, turning toward Hank. At that moment, Brian realized Cecelia was blind.

  Hank hurried over to her, moved the broom out of the way, and said, “There was a broom in your direct line.”

  “Oh. Thank you,” she replied, her voice soft, her tone relieved. “My shins have taken a real beating since all these workmen started on the repairs.”

  “They don’t think,” Hank said.

  “No, they don’t,” she said. “One left out a ladder after he’d finished for the day, and another left extension cords all over the place. Now, a broom. I’ll be glad when their work is done, and things get back to normal around here.”

  “I bet you will,” Hank said. “Where’s your cane?”

  “At my desk,” she said. “I was only heading to the restroom. Usually, there’s nothing in my path in this direction.”

  Brian listened to her voice, the soft tones floating into his ears like a melody he wouldn’t soon forget.

  She looked too young to have silver hair, but perhaps she’d colored it that way. Straight and silky, it hung to her shoulders. Silver, sleek, and cut straight across the bottom. Touchable hair. The kind he enjoyed running his fingers through.

  Brian took in the sight of her, as though she was a long drink of cool water, his slow perusal of her unhampered. She couldn’t see the way he drank her in, which meant his gaze could take her in as long as he wanted. He enjoyed the journey.

  She wore a pink tank top over full, rounded breasts, her tank top ending just above her belly button as the tank had bunched up. A thick brown leather belt held up faded blue jeans, which molded to her curves.

  She is stunning.

  “All clear ahead?” Her tone held a note of laughter now, and not an ounce of weakness.

  “All clear,” Hank replied. “I’ll have a word with the workmen about picking up after themselves.”

  “No need,” she replied. “I should’ve had my cane. The men have been told. They don’t listen anyway, and besides,” she shrugged, “I need to find my own way around things.”

  “You’re an inspiration to many,” Leah White Crane said, as she came down the hall toward them. The Native American woman knew the women at the ranch quite well, as she was the on-site counselor Hank had introduced Brian to before she’d been called away to her office to handle a small crisis, leaving the men standing here talking about the job.

  “When women come here with an ‘I can’t attitude,’ and see you running the front office, keeping everything straight,” Leah said with a smile in her voice. “It’s not long before they lose that ‘can’t’ and begin to think ‘I can’.”

  “I don’t do any more than another woman with my training.” Cecelia said.

  “Cecelia, I’d like you to meet Brian,” Hank said. “He just joined Br
otherhood Protectors and will be security on the night shift here at the ranch.”

  “Cecelia is our receptionist and secretary and lives on site,” Leah said.

  Brian swallowed. “Nice to meet you, Cecelia.”

  Cecelia moved toward him, smiling and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you as well, Brian.”

  “My pleasure.” Brian grasped her hand in his larger hand. Her soft skin felt cool against his, as if she’d just washed her hands.

  Her nostrils gave a slight flare as she inhaled, and he took in every nuance of her face. He was aware of her scent as well, and their first touch was almost electric.

  As he continued to clasp her hand, he liked the way it felt, holding her hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

  “Likewise,” she said, her face looking up toward his with a radiant smile. She couldn’t know he was three inches taller than her, though she directed her face toward the sound of his voice.

  It’s a shame she can’t see me.

  He was used to how women reacted to meeting him for the first time and the way they responded to his fitness and good looks. Even before they learned he was a Recon Marine. For the first twenty years of his life he had eaten up the attention and the comments, but being a Marine had taught him discipline and maturity and over the last few year the comments had finally grown old.

  Cecelia was the first woman he’d met who’d had no reaction to how he looked. It was refreshing not to have a woman fawning over him.

  And yet, while they’d held each other’s hands, he’d felt something and was pretty sure she’d felt it, too. That chemical reaction of attraction wasn’t dependent on sight. Pheromones were scented, drove attraction.

  The ranch house they stood inside still bore the odors of the fire which had nearly destroyed the back of the building before the volunteer fire department had arrived to put it out. Workmen were here to rebuild the ranch house, the only building with fire damage, and Brotherhood Protectors were providing security until construction was completed and a good security system installed.

  From what Hank had explained to Brian, when he’d hired him for the job, crazy men who’d been after one of the residents had set the Three C’s Ranch on fire to smoke the woman out.

  Afterward, the management back east had taken the security of the ranch more seriously and no longer assumed a remote location was enough protection for the women. From now on, the ranch would have security guards and cameras.

  Brian was one of four men who would work security shifts, rotating days and nights to make sure the residents were protected during the build.

  He’d be introduced to all the female residents and staff, so they’d know him and be comfortable with his presence when he roamed the grounds at night.

  Outside the main building of the Three C’s Ranch lay several charred log timbers from the lodge, which had been removed. Brian had seen them as they drove up to the ranch. Reconstruction of the lodge would be completed by next month.

  Brian watched Cecelia walk to her desk and then settle in, fascinated by the way the pretty woman found her way. Once her hand was on the chair it, appeared she knew just where everything was located.

  Cecelia went back to her desk and put on her headset again, increasing the volume. The noisy workers were at it again, she could hear them, even with her headset on—every single sound they made, sawing and hammering, and the popping of their nail guns. She’d been getting headaches from all the noises, and it had been making it hard for her to do her job well.

  She answered a call and tried to forget about the man she’d just been introduced to, whose voice had made her stomach flutter and whose touch gave her tingles and warmth all at once.

  Her hand still felt the remnants of his touch, and she could still smell his scent, which was clean and nicely male. Not every male had a good scent. His made her want to draw closer. He was still much on her mind, even though she was trying hard to focus on her job.

  One thing she prided herself on was doing her job well.

  “Hold just a minute please,” she said, to the young woman on the line. Placing the call on hold, she reached for the braille keyboard attached to her computer, typed in ‘oral surgeons’ and did a search for the closest ones in the area, using a program for the blind, which read information from any website on the internet.

  The young woman wanted to come to the ranch and go through the program, but she’d just been told she needed to have all four wisdom teeth removed. So, she was worried she’d lose her spot and have to wait again to be let in. With only two centers in the U.S., the wait list could be long, even once a woman jumped through all the hoops to qualify.

  It wasn’t unusual for one of the women scheduled to come to the ranch to need some kind of medical care, but this was the first one who’d needed oral surgery.

  Feeling the braille keyboard, Cecelia saved the information to her list of medical and dental contacts, and then picked up the call again.

  “Yes, there are a couple of dental surgeons to choose from. You’ll have to go to Bozeman, Montana to have any dental surgery done. One of us would drive you there and back. You wouldn’t be alone, and we would make sure one of us was able to look after you while you recovered here.”

  Cecelia loved this part of her job. Making things better for the women and helping them step into a better future for themselves, one in which they were empowered, gave her great satisfaction.

  If asked what she liked about her job, she would have said, putting things together, making plans for the ladies and keeping everything running smoothly. There wasn’t anything about her job she didn’t love.

  Brian had been working security at the ranch for over a week when he asked Cecelia out. He waited until it was break time and she’d gone into the ranch kitchen for a glass of lemonade and an oatmeal raisin cookie.

  She looked up at him as he entered the room. “Would you like a cookie, Brian?” she asked.

  Somehow, she always seemed to know when he entered the room, despite the quiet way he moved.

  “How do you always know it’s me?” he asked.

  “Your scent,” she said. “It’s unique.”

  “In a good way, I hope,” he drawled.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “A very good way.” She smiled and held the plate of cookies out to him.

  “Thanks,” he said. “They look delicious.”

  “Lemonade?”

  “I’m not much into lemonade,” he said.

  “Milk then,” she said. “Cookies are always good with milk.” She laid her cookie down and moved toward the fridge.

  “I can get it,” he said. “Go on and enjoy your cookie. You don’t need to wait on me.”

  “Okay.” She gave in with no argument and moved back to her own cookie to take another bite.

  He went to the fridge, removed the milk, and then found a glass to pour it in.

  “Emma makes the best cookies,” Cecelia said.

  “She does,” he agreed. “I could get spoiled, working here.”

  “I’ll bet you don’t get many cookies on your jobs,” she said.

  “This is the first job I’ve had where I’ve received even one cookie,” he said, with a laugh. “My jobs have been chasing down bad guys, or guarding somebody, or something.”

  “What, they never handed out cookies? As a reward?” She laughed. “Someone needs to renegotiate your compensation.”

  “The bonuses were good. No cookies though.” He dunked his cookie into the glass of milk and took a bite.

  “Her oatmeal raisin cookies are my favorite,” she said.

  “They are really good,” he said, still munching on a bite.

  When they’d finished the cookies, he seized the moment. “This has been fun,” he said.

  “It has,” she agreed.

  “Let’s do this again,” he said. “How about dinner in Bozeman this weekend?”

  “You don’t want to go out with a blind girl,” she said, shaking
her head.

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “But not with just any blind girl. I want to go out with you.”

  She laughed. “I’m nothing special. And anyway, I don’t date, I don’t do friends with benefits, and I’m done with relationships. But even if I did date, a relationship with me would be a lot of work. Men don’t handle that well.”

  “I’m a Marine,” he said. “We’re used to a lot of work, overcoming obstacles, and succeeding at our goals.”

  “Maybe so, but I’m not ready to go out,” she said. “I’m safe here, and I know where everything is.”

  “You’d be safe with me, and I’d make sure you knew where things are,” he said.

  “You’re going to keep trying to convince me, aren’t you?” She tilted her head toward him, looking upward, with an exasperated look on her face.

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.” He nodded, then caught himself, realizing she wouldn’t see him nod. “What will it take to get you to say yes?”

  “You don’t understand.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to get my sight back. This is how things will always be. And I don’t date. You should just give up now.”

  “Give up?” He laughed. “You’re trying to convince a Marine to give up? Now that is funny.”

  Cecelia paused, thinking. Then she laughed. ” I guess it is.”

  The real reason she wouldn’t go out, the one she wasn’t about to tell him, was that she was afraid to go out on a date with another man, any man she didn’t know well, who might turn violent.

  That crazy Elijah Blair, whom she’d gone out with, had turned violent, and back then, she could see.