Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(3)

His brother was a photographer who traveled around the world taking pictures for magazines and organizations. He was five years younger than Black, and always seemed to be getting into questionable situations. Of course, Black was too, but his parents didn’t know about that. So Lance was the Lockard their parents worried about.

Harlow probably didn’t mean anything by her words. She probably told everyone to be careful. But still, hearing them made something inside Black sit up and take notice.

Deciding right then and there that he was going to ask Harlow Reese out, Black smiled. It had been a long time since he’d really pursued a specific woman, and he was looking forward to getting back in the game.

Still smiling, Black picked up his phone and dialed Rex’s number. He needed to tell his handler what was going on. At the moment, he had no information, but Rex didn’t like surprises. It was better to talk to him up front and bring him details later than to blindside him with a situation after the fact.





Chapter Two

Harlow rolled and cut the dough, then placed it on the cookie sheet without thought. She could make biscuits in her sleep, which was a good thing, because her attention was definitely not on cooking at the moment.

She had been debating with herself about whether to call Lowell for a week and had finally gotten up the nerve to do it.

When she’d first seen him all those weeks ago, she’d been merely annoyed with the men who yelled things at her when she arrived at the shelter and who liked to hang around the parking lot when she left. She’d thought that learning more self-defense and maybe even a bit about gun safety would be a good thing. She’d thought it was only her they were harassing, but when she overheard some of the residents talking about the punks doing the same things to them a week ago, she knew she had to do something.

Because it wasn’t only the women who were scared. The kids were too. And that was unacceptable for Harlow. She didn’t like it when men used strength or intimidation to abuse women, but when they started in on children, it crossed a line for her. Five kids lived at the shelter at the moment, and it was easy to see they were scared by the harassment.

Jasper Newton was the oldest at thirteen. He was slightly overweight and constantly tripping over his own feet. He was the protector of the group, probably trying to compensate for the fact that his father had abused his mother for years. The abuse had stopped only because Wyatt had up and left his wife and child one day, telling them he didn’t want a family anymore, didn’t love them, and had found a new girlfriend.

Harlow knew Jasper and his mom were better off, but the young boy had obviously suffered mentally as a result of everything his dad had put him through.

Lacie Bronson was eleven and never really said much. Harlow didn’t know her story, but whatever had happened to her and her mom to make them need the services of the shelter had obviously been traumatizing for both.

Milo Hamlin was nine and, while wary, still laughed a lot and made friends easily. Samantha Royal was eight and went to the same school as Milo. They were in the same class as well. Sammie had a crush on Milo and followed him everywhere.

At five, the youngest child in the shelter was Jody Zimmerman. She was an inquisitive girl who spent every moment she could in the kitchen with Harlow. She had beautiful red hair and green eyes. Her mom was young, only twenty-three, as had been her late boyfriend. He’d been killed by a drunk driver days before he was supposed to join the Army, and because of a lack of money and no help from their relatives, Jody and her mom had ended up homeless.

Harlow would do anything to protect the kids who resided in the home. She’d always had a soft spot for children. Their parents’ situations were no fault of the kids, and she wanted to do whatever she could to give them some good memories of their childhood. If that was only through food, so be it.

Harlow welcomed the kids into her kitchen with open arms. They often wandered in, carrying books to do homework at the big dinner table or just wanting something to do, and she put them to work assisting with whatever meal she was currently working on. Knowing that most of them had been denied enough food to fill their bellies because of their financial situations, she always had snacks on hand as well.

Every time their mothers had a group meeting, Harlow brought the kids into the kitchen to teach them how to make something new. One day it might be cookies, and another it could be bread. She loved watching them have fun and enjoyed her time with them.

It was mostly because of the kids that she’d called Lowell Lockard.

She’d recognized him the second she’d seen him. They’d gone to the same high school in Topeka, Kansas, and once upon a time she’d had the biggest crush on him. But he was out of her league. Way too popular for the likes of her. She was the girl who liked to hide behind her camera, taking pictures of others rather than being in the spotlight. She’d made a go at being a photographer, but eventually realized she much preferred cooking to being behind a lens.

Lowell had been funny and nice to her when they were teenagers. He hadn’t looked down on her, and he’d actually complimented her more than once on the pictures she’d taken. Harlow had known he was going to enlist in the Navy when he graduated, and she’d admired him for wanting to serve his country.

She’d wanted to date him more than she’d wanted her next breath, but even back then she hadn’t had the best luck with boys and dating.