Renegade's Pride

And yet every fiber of his being knew better. They were here again. It was his only thought as he turned and tried to run, knowing it was a fool thing to do in the dark in a pasture full of gopher holes.

He’d taken only a few strides when his foot dropped into a gap. He fell face-first, the weight of his heavy pack slamming him down hard into the earth. The fall knocked the wind out of him.

Sprawled in the dirt, he gasped for air as he heard them coming. It was the same swishing sound as before, but this time there were two of them. He sucked in a ragged breath and tried to hold it.

Telling himself that maybe they wouldn’t see him if he stayed down, he waited. The waiting was too painful. He lifted his head just enough to peer over the tall grass. They looked larger than he remembered, their bodies hidden beneath the huge blinding-white space suits they wore. He could hear their breathing systems swishing in and out as they labored through the tall spring grass.

Ely thought he might be able to outrun them. He tried to slip off his backpack. It caught on his coat sleeve. Maybe if he could get to his pistol, but there wasn’t time.

He put his face against the cold ground and prayed they wouldn’t take him this time.

CHAPTER TWO (#u843652d6-2263-5fce-a29a-dbc9b4e7698b)

SHERIFF FLINT CAHILL didn’t even bother to look up as the door to his office banged open first thing the next morning.

“Seriously?” his sister, Lillie, demanded as she strode to his desk. “You arrested our father again?” Hands on her hips, she glared at him with narrowed gray eyes from a face that could only be described as adorable—even when furious.

He sighed. “What would you have me do? Ely was drunk and disorderly. Again. Anyone else who behaves the way he does gets thrown in the slammer.”

“He’s not just anyone else.”

“No, he’s not. Did I fail to mention he resisted arrest? Deputy Harper is sporting a shiner this morning.”

“I’ve wanted to slug Harp a few times myself,” Lillie said, looking toward the cell block as if the deputy was the last person she wanted to see this morning.

“I hope you brought Ely some clean clothes. He...soiled himself.”

“You’d piss yourself too if you saw what I did,” his father called from his cell down the hallway.

“Nothing’s wrong with his hearing, anyway,” Flint muttered under his breath as Lillie set a large brown paper bag with the clothing in it on his desk.

“Nothing’s wrong with his mind, either!” Ely called back.

Flint shook his head and lowered his voice. “You know, Lillie, you don’t have to be the one to bail him out all the time. You could send one of our brothers to do the dirty work.”

She said nothing as Deputy Harper Cole came in as if on cue. She gave him a disinterested nod. He eyed her with his one good eye, the one that wasn’t swollen shut. Lillie, clad in a pink T-shirt, worn jeans and sandals, had her long, curly dark hair pulled up in a ponytail. “Mornin’, Lillie. You’re looking fine.”

“Harp, please take these to Ely and make sure he changes,” Flint said, holding out the bag to his deputy before Lillie gave the man another black eye. Messing with this particular Cahill would be a huge mistake. Lillie had grown up with five older brothers. She could hold her own and Flint didn’t want to have to arrest her too.

He could tell his sister was fired up and wondered if it was only about Ely’s arrest or if there was more going on with her. He would have asked, but when she was in this mood, questioning her would be like poking a porcupine with a short stick.

He could hear Ely arguing with the deputy from his cell down the hallway. “I’m telling you something has to be done about him,” Flint said quietly to his sister. This was a matter they were going to have to deal with.

“He’s fine.”

“He’s not fine. We can’t keep putting our heads in the sand and pretending that he isn’t getting worse.”

She shook her head. “How about you stop arresting him?”

“You know I can’t do that. Fortunately, he spends most of his time up in the mountains. But every time he comes out...” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The thick dark hair was something all of the Cahills shared, along with the gray eyes.

“You need to cut him some slack. What would be wrong with that? He’s an old man. He’s your old man.”

Flint shook his head as their father came out grumbling, but wearing clean clothes. He still looked wild from his full gray beard to those piercing light gray eyes so like his own. But he wasn’t the worse for wear given how much he had to drink last night.

“You’re going to regret not listenin’ to me,” Ely said to his son. “I’m stone-cold sober this morning. I told you what I seen last night. I ain’t crazy. It’s them from outer space agin. They’re back and they’re hangin’ around our missile silo. Any fool knows no good’ll come from that. I’m tellin’ you. Them devils is up to somethin’. Somethin’ bad.”

Flint shot his sister a see-what-I-mean look. Back in the late 1950s, their grandfather had signed over a two-acre plot of land in the middle of his ranch so the US government could bury missiles in perpetuity for national defense.

The US Air Force had buried a thousand Minuteman missiles three stories deep in ranch land just like theirs. A missile on constant alert and capable of delivering a 1.2 megaton nuclear warhead to a target in thirty minutes was still buried in their backyard. The program was called MAD, Mutually Assured Destruction.

Ely believed it was that missile that had brought a UFO to their land back in 1967. He swore it landed and aliens had taken him aboard their spaceship and did medical experiments on him. And that had made him known as the biggest crackpot in the county.

“Come on, Dad,” Lillie said, sending a scowl at Flint. “You must be hungry. Let’s get you to my place—”

“I want to go home,” Ely said as they headed for the door. “Home to my cabin.”

She glanced back at Flint, no doubt knowing what he thought about that idea.

“He shouldn’t be alone,” Flint said to their retreating backs.

“Don’t pay him no never mind, Lillie Girl. Flint always did have a stick stuck—”

“Dad, maybe we should stop at the grocery store first and get you some food,” she said, cutting him off.

“Got plenty of food at home,” their father argued. “Put up a nice buck into jerky last fall. But I could use a little whiskey, so maybe we should stop by your bar.”

* * *

LILLIE WAS STILL fuming as she drove her father out of town toward the bar she and her twin brother, Darby, owned, the Stagecoach Saloon. Darby was eight minutes older and never let her forget it.

They’d opened the place in an old two-story stone stage stop not far from the ranch. She’d wanted a way to preserve the building and Darby had suggested a bar and café.

“Don’t you be listening to Flint, my Lillie Girl,” her father said again as they were driving out of town. “You know how he is.”

She nodded and smiled over at him, even though her bad temper was still flaring inside her. She’d never understand her brother. Flint was the black sheep of the family. The one who had followed every rule from the time he was young, while the rest of them disliked rules and seldom followed them, especially when the Cahill clan banded together.

True, it had always been Flint who bailed them out of trouble before their parents got wind of what they’d been up to. But he’d also had to lecture them at length, which never went over well.

“Flint’s worried about you,” she said now to her father. “So am I.”

Ely shook his head. “No reason to worry.”

He sounded so unconvincing that she shot him a glance, surprised how old he looked. She often didn’t see him for weeks or sometimes months at a time. He would disappear into the mountains. Then she’d get a call that he’d been arrested and she always took it upon herself to get him out of jail.

“What happened last night?” she asked as she’d done so many times before.

He was quiet for long enough that she thought he either hadn’t heard her or wasn’t going to answer. “In the mountains I can hold the memories at bay. But once I come down...” He cleared his throat and looked over at her. “I swear on your mother’s grave that I saw ’em last night. They was in the same pasture as where I was took. I feared they’d come back for me. They was almost on me when I smelled whatever gas they use to knock people out. When I come to, I was lying in the pasture and they was gone.” He shuddered. “I don’t think they took me this time, though.”