Chapter One
If his father’s accident would’ve happened last month, Dale Leroy Taylor would’ve been out of the country on a mission, and out of reach like his brother, Caspian, was now. His chest squeezed tightly as he sped down the familiar roads to Harland County. Yesterday’s call from Gabe, his former SEAL buddy and now the local sheriff, still echoed in his mind.
It’s your dad. He’s been in an accident…
Although Dale had recently submitted his packet officially ending his SEAL career, he’d been waiting around Virginia for his brother to return so he could try to persuade Cas to consider leaving the teams too. Getting his stubborn sibling not to extend when his contract ran out next month would be a tough sell, though.
When they joined the Navy, they’d always planned to retire after twenty years, but lately, Dale felt an invisible, consistent pull to go home. Having survived many missions listening to his intuition, Dale knew better than to ignore his gut now.
He also couldn’t ignore the fact his brother was growing more cynical, hardened, and numb with each mission. Although they were not assigned to the same team, Dale still noticed the change. Not good. The longer Cas was in, the harder it would be to reverse the negativity—if it would even be possible by the time his brother hit the twenty-year mark.
Right now, though, Dale felt it wasn’t too late, but he’d need help convincing Cas to leave the brotherhood.
He also understood why his brother might give him trouble.
Dale hadn’t intended to end his SEAL career yet, but the closer it got to extending his contract this year, the stronger hisgut told him he needed to go home. He just hadn’t expected his transition back to civilian life to start with such a jarring event.
It's your dad. He’s been in an accident…
Gabe’s voice resounded in his head again.
Their father, Samuel Taylor, was in the hospital after his horse got spooked and threw him. He lived in town now and was in the process of moving his things into his new house as well as getting the ranch ready to sell. No doubt his father had been out there alone, exercising his horse, as well as Caspian’s horse. His dad was thinking about possibly boarding them with the Daltons, local owners of a horse ranch and rescue, but not until the ranch was sold.
All of it could’ve been avoided, though, if Dale or his damn brother had agreed to take over the property when their father had offered it to them six months ago. An operation that’d been in the Taylor family for three generations.
But they’d both turned it down. Their loyalty to the brotherhood outweighed their allegiance to their dad.
Dale’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white.
If only he’d taken him up on that offer. Hell, if only he’d gone home two days ago, instead of waiting around for Cas. Maybe his father wouldn’t have suffered a concussion, two broken ribs, a broken shoulder, and an arm.
It was clear to Dale that this accident was the reason for the niggling in his gut and why his intuition told him not to extend. Thank God he hadn’t, but too bad he’d hung around Virginia a few days.
His father lived alone, never remarrying after his wife had left him with two boys under the age of ten to run off with a guitarist she met at the local fair. Life could’ve been worse. Their father could’ve hit the bottle, blamed his kids, neglected them, even beat them, but he’d done the opposite, making sure hisyoung sons understood it was not their fault their mother left. He raised him and his brother with good values and unwavering strength, instilling in them the desire to help people, leading by example.
Samual Taylor was the strongest man Dale had ever known, and he was proud as hell of his father. His chest squeezed tightly. He and Cas had lucked out…and they’d repaid him by not being here when their dad needed them.
Even though the injuries weren’t life-threatening, they were serious enough to create a knot in Dale’s stomach that hadn’t left since Gabe’s call.
How long had his father suffered until help had arrived? And how did anyone know he needed assistance?
Images of him unconscious on the ground flooded Dale’s mind, along with several more of his father struggling to dig out his phone to call for help.
Muttering a curse, he stepped on the gas, racing straight to the hospital. Later, he’d head to either the house or ranch with his stuff, depending on where his father wanted to stay after he was released in a few days.
A half hour later, Dale strode through the sliding doors of Harland County Hospital, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the low hum of activity greeting him immediately. His heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and determination. He had driven straight through the night, unable to rest until he saw his father for himself.
Since Gabe had already supplied the room number, Dale made a beeline for the elevator, his steps quick and purposeful. The damn drive had taken too long, and the elevator ride to the third floor felt endless too, each second stretching out as he braced himself for what he might find. He hated the thought of his dad being alone in a drab room with beeping machines.
When the doors finally opened, he walked down the hall past nurses and doctors, his eyes scanning the room numbers until he reached his destination.
With a deep breath, he gently pushed the door open and peered inside the room, taking everything in at a glance. There were two beds, but his father was the only patient, occupying the one by the window. He was pale, no doubt from pain, and appeared both fragile and stubbornly resilient at the same time. His arm was immobilized in a sling, and bandages were wrapped around his head and ribs.
Dale’s chest tightened at the sight.
Samuel Taylor was a few months away from turning sixty, strong and full of energy, and at six-feet-two and around two hundred pounds, he wasn’t a slight man, but damn, Dale hated seeing him prone and immobile.
It could’ve been much worse…
