Rugged Cowboy - Elana Johnson Page 0,62
of whom wanted to ever see the inside of a prison again.
They’d spoken for many long hours about what they should do, what they shouldn’t, and what was right. Dallas had offered to find someone to get Martha out and get her into a treatment facility. Ted had said they couldn’t really trust anyone but the three of them.
The Warden wasn’t going to get involved, and neither were any of Ted’s still-practicing lawyer friends. Jesus knew a lot of people in the underground, and they’d gotten the most information from him—and the Internet.
Martha was not living with her mother, and Dallas had been most relieved about that. Her mom probably was giving her money, either knowingly or unknowingly. He’d been hoping and praying she wasn’t stealing from her mother, but he’d known drug addicts in River Bay, and he’d heard Slate say once that he’d have done anything—anything—to get his next fix. If that meant he had to hack into his mother’s bank account, he’d have done it.
They still hadn’t gone up to River Bay to see their friends, but they had plans to go on the day after Christmas. The Warden had given them permission for the special visitation, and they’d been collecting gifts for Luke and Slate for the past couple of weeks.
Dallas really, really hoped he’d be in good enough shape to attend the visit. Something sat in his gut that felt very much like a lead brick, and he hadn’t been able to get rid of it for a week now.
They’d been ready to make this flight for that long, but they needed time to brainstorm and plan, strategize and agree on what they would and wouldn’t do.
None of them were anonymous, Dallas knew that. Josh was a criminal, sure, but that didn’t make him stupid. In fact, quite the opposite, and all three of them had agreed that they were walking into a dog fight.
He just wanted to get Martha somewhere safe, which would save him, Thomas, and Remmy in the process. Dallas took in a deep breath and focused on getting out of this airport. The thing was huge, and he still wasn’t used to being around so many people.
Sweet Water Falls was a small town of maybe fifteen thousand. The ranch was even smaller, with less than fifty people there each day. The noise bothered him, distracted him, and made him question why he’d left his kids behind in Texas.
His heart squeezed for Thomas and Remmy, and the next person in his mind was Jess. She was far too good for him, and he didn’t know how to make up the difference between them. He wanted to; he wanted to be the man she deserved. One who could make his own daughter’s birthday cake and one who didn’t have an ex-wife addicted to alcohol and speed, who’d left her children behind, and run away from an adult life.
Nate led the group, as Nate always had, and he’d flagged down a cab by the time Dallas wove through the crowd and made it outside. He slipped his backpack off his shoulder and got in the car last, setting his pack on the floor near his feet.
“Westside Drive,” Nate said. “Near Pier 79, please.”
The driver started tapping on his own phone, and Dallas’s confidence took a dive. He didn’t say anything as they pulled away from the curb, and no one in the back seat did either. Dallas just wanted to exist inside his own head until he had time and space to examine his true thoughts. He hated worrying about what hadn’t happened yet, and he just wanted this whole ordeal to be over.
He’d never been to Miami, and he hoped he’d never come back. The blue water glistened beyond the pier when the cab came to a stop, and Dallas got out of the car first. Nate paid on his way out, and the three of them stood there in the weak, winter sunlight, looking back down the block.
They’d purposely designed their plan to have them dropped off a couple of blocks away from where Martha was reportedly staying. They’d split up; they each had a room in a different hotel. They’d watch the building for a day to see if they could catch sight of Martha or Josh.
Jesus had sent several pictures of other known associates of Josh and the gang, and Dallas had spent far too many evenings studying them after his children had gone to bed and before they’d come