shoved the coffee mug to her lips and took a gulp. Caffeine, don’t fail me now. “Good morning, Blake.”
“Back at you.” He greeted the twins and poured himself a mug of coffee.
She hadn’t planned on seeing him this early. Didn’t the man ever sleep late? If she’d known he’d be up, she would have gotten dressed instead of stumbling around in pink plaid pajamas and an ancient blue bathrobe. “I just came down here to get my muffins started.”
“I’d be happy to help with your muffins.”
Why did that sound so sexy? “I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“We had a phone call last night from Emily’s dad,” he said. “It seems that the senator is into conspiracy theories.”
She didn’t know Emily’s parents well but remembered a very long evening drinking craft beer with the senator and hearing every detail about the mysterious Area 51 in Nevada. “I hate to ask, but what does the senator think about the kidnap attempt?”
“I think we ruled out aliens,” Blake said.
“Wow!” John Reuben’s eyes popped wide. “Aliens?”
“I’m joking,” Blake said.
“Yeah, right. I knew that.”
“The bad news,” Blake said, “is that the senator has enough suspects to populate a midsize mountain town. The less bad news is that he doesn’t consider any of them to be violent.”
She didn’t quite believe that reasoning. “A kidnapping at gunpoint isn’t violent?”
Blake shrugged. “He’s adamant about having the wedding proceed as planned. He made quite a speech about not negotiating with bad guys and not letting them dictate his course of action.”
She was wide-awake enough to read between the lines. “Long story short,” she said, “the senator thinks the threat is all about him and he won’t back down. The general sees only his own enemies. It’s a clear case of dueling egos.”
“You don’t much like these guys.”
“Not true,” she said as she took another dose of caffeine. “They both have fine qualities, and I really like the senator’s wife, Rebecca. I just wish we could eliminate any possible danger before the wedding.”
William Reuben held up the screen showing the camera feeds. “Hey, look at this. There’s a van coming down the road.”
“Are you expecting anyone?” Blake asked her.
“Not until later today.”
Blake straightened his shoulders, stepped away from the counter and faced the twins. With a subtle shift in posture, he took on an attitude of authority. “Gentlemen, we need to identify the driver and passengers in the vehicle. Use caution.”
Sarah followed them to the front room, where she stood at the window to watch. To her surprise, the twins moved with the sort of mature assurance and discipline they might learn in basic training. Blake must have been working with them. On the porch, he made a couple of quick gestures. William took a position at the edge of the porch with his rifle aimed at the approaching van. John went left and stood behind her truck.
Blake descended from the porch. His right hand rested on the butt of the handgun holstered at his hip. Until this moment, Sarah hadn’t noticed he was armed. He was an intimidating presence as he approached the vehicle.
A skinny guy with tight jeans and a fringed leather jacket emerged from the driver’s side. He flapped his arms like an angry crow as he talked to Blake.
She squinted through the window. The guy didn’t look familiar, and she hadn’t made any reservations for this weekend. Had Bentley’s B and B turned into a problem magnet?
When Blake waved to her, she opened the front door and peeked out. “What is it?”
“Ollie and the Dewdrops,” Blake said. “He says they’re a band.”
She remembered—a guitar, a violin and a flute. They’d played at some romantic event Emily and Jeremy had attended, and Emily had been trying to book them. Though Sarah was glad the band could make it, today was Thursday and the wedding wasn’t until Saturday. “They’re a little
“Back at you.” He greeted the twins and poured himself a mug of coffee.
She hadn’t planned on seeing him this early. Didn’t the man ever sleep late? If she’d known he’d be up, she would have gotten dressed instead of stumbling around in pink plaid pajamas and an ancient blue bathrobe. “I just came down here to get my muffins started.”
“I’d be happy to help with your muffins.”
Why did that sound so sexy? “I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“We had a phone call last night from Emily’s dad,” he said. “It seems that the senator is into conspiracy theories.”
She didn’t know Emily’s parents well but remembered a very long evening drinking craft beer with the senator and hearing every detail about the mysterious Area 51 in Nevada. “I hate to ask, but what does the senator think about the kidnap attempt?”
“I think we ruled out aliens,” Blake said.
“Wow!” John Reuben’s eyes popped wide. “Aliens?”
“I’m joking,” Blake said.
“Yeah, right. I knew that.”
“The bad news,” Blake said, “is that the senator has enough suspects to populate a midsize mountain town. The less bad news is that he doesn’t consider any of them to be violent.”
She didn’t quite believe that reasoning. “A kidnapping at gunpoint isn’t violent?”
Blake shrugged. “He’s adamant about having the wedding proceed as planned. He made quite a speech about not negotiating with bad guys and not letting them dictate his course of action.”
She was wide-awake enough to read between the lines. “Long story short,” she said, “the senator thinks the threat is all about him and he won’t back down. The general sees only his own enemies. It’s a clear case of dueling egos.”
“You don’t much like these guys.”
“Not true,” she said as she took another dose of caffeine. “They both have fine qualities, and I really like the senator’s wife, Rebecca. I just wish we could eliminate any possible danger before the wedding.”
William Reuben held up the screen showing the camera feeds. “Hey, look at this. There’s a van coming down the road.”
“Are you expecting anyone?” Blake asked her.
“Not until later today.”
Blake straightened his shoulders, stepped away from the counter and faced the twins. With a subtle shift in posture, he took on an attitude of authority. “Gentlemen, we need to identify the driver and passengers in the vehicle. Use caution.”
Sarah followed them to the front room, where she stood at the window to watch. To her surprise, the twins moved with the sort of mature assurance and discipline they might learn in basic training. Blake must have been working with them. On the porch, he made a couple of quick gestures. William took a position at the edge of the porch with his rifle aimed at the approaching van. John went left and stood behind her truck.
Blake descended from the porch. His right hand rested on the butt of the handgun holstered at his hip. Until this moment, Sarah hadn’t noticed he was armed. He was an intimidating presence as he approached the vehicle.
A skinny guy with tight jeans and a fringed leather jacket emerged from the driver’s side. He flapped his arms like an angry crow as he talked to Blake.
She squinted through the window. The guy didn’t look familiar, and she hadn’t made any reservations for this weekend. Had Bentley’s B and B turned into a problem magnet?
When Blake waved to her, she opened the front door and peeked out. “What is it?”
“Ollie and the Dewdrops,” Blake said. “He says they’re a band.”
She remembered—a guitar, a violin and a flute. They’d played at some romantic event Emily and Jeremy had attended, and Emily had been trying to book them. Though Sarah was glad the band could make it, today was Thursday and the wedding wasn’t until Saturday. “They’re a little
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