Black Hills Secrets

  Black Hills

  Secrets

  (Black Hills Series #4)

  A.C. Wilson

  Black Hills Secrets

  Thank you for purchasing this book. Black Hills Secrets remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes without written permission of the author. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy. Thank you for your support.

  Black Hills Secrets is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously with exception to Artists named and their song. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ©2015 A.C. Wilson

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover Photography by Allison Hazen

  Hazen Photography

  http://allisonhazen2010.wix.com/hazenphotography

  Cover Design by Ginny Gallagher

  Gin’s Book Notes

  http://ginsbooknotes.com

  **“Storm” by Lifehouse is referenced in this story.**

  Acknowledgements

  I didn’t expect to be writing more in the Black Hills Series. I had intended to end with Nora’s story, but some unexpected help arrived. Thank you to Michelle Holloway for pushing me to write more and helping me hash out Blake’s story. Also thank you to all the support from my street team, A.C.’s Angels, and my newest cheerleader, Jamie Lynn.

  This book is also affectionately dedicated to the wounded warriors that serve and have served our country. I’m deeply grateful for you service and I hope that others see that PTSD is not a stigma. Reach out for help. You’re not alone.

  Other titles by A.C. Wilson

  Black Hills Angel (Matt and Andy)

  Black Hills Blessing (Garrett and Rayne)

  Black Hills Rebel (Nora and Randy)

  COMING SOON

  Black Hills Forever (Travis and Lacey)

  Black Hills Seasons (Companion Novellas)

  *Lena’s Fall

  *Royal’s Wildfire

  *Lance’s Stars

  *Colt’s Magic

  CHAPTER ONE

  Deep, gut-wrenching sobs caused him to choke and gasp for air as he lay curled up on his side next to the freshly mounded dirt. The depth of his grief knew no bottom and even that didn’t terrify Blake Phails as much as going through the rest of his life without his best friend. He opened his mouth swallowing a cry of utter torment as his fingers dug into the wet earth of the gravesite. His loss of a brother-in-arms had created more chaos than two tours in Afghanistan. It threatened to uproot the foundation he had built in the United States Army and cast him aside like a piece of unwanted rubbish.

  Arlington National Cemetery.

  The cold, white marble headstones were eerily spaced similar to the soldiers that lie buried underneath. Platoon Sergeant Tanner Briggs was just another body in an army and another soul tragically taken by hatred and indifference. Blake felt like he was going to throw up right there next to his buddy’s grave. His stomach lurched and his vision was blurred by tears and exhaustion.

  Why wasn’t it me? Why did he have to die?

  The torment of questions never ended. It was an assault that he was most unprepared for. The silence of everything but the agony of being left behind and the cruel revolving images of the events at night had all but shattered Blake’s mental reserve. It was just one continuous nightmare that had caused him more than once to hope that death might stop.

  Coward.

  The name boiled in his brain, but for the life of him, he didn’t know if it was because he couldn’t take his own life or if he was looking for a way out of the hellish landscape. His hands shook as he tried to put his weight on them and crawl into a sitting position. His chest hurt and his eyes burned. Time had no meaning, except to tell him that he was hungry and exhausted.

  “Are you alright, son?” A warm, scratchy voice said from behind him and Blake couldn’t help but look up. The afternoon sun made a sort of halo around the older man standing there. In his groundskeeper uniform, Blake knew what he had come to say to him. It was time to leave Tanner. Somehow Blake couldn’t get his body to obey his half-hearted command to move.

  “Will anything ever be right again?” Blake’s throat hurt from all the tears he had shed. Grief caused a tremor to scale his spine. The older man cocked his head to the side and his kind brown eyes said he understood. It was something of a consolation on a day so miserable.

  “I can’t answer that, son.” The words paused on a sigh and the man shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe it’s time that you head home.”

  Home. Where the hell is that?

  For twelve years Blake’s home had been wherever the Army sent him, but his brother was always in his heart. He and Tanner met at the age of ten and had become fast friends. Neither of them had any great family life and more often than not, they would crash at Tanner’s grandmother’s house. Nana didn’t seem to mind. Blake recalled the musty moth ball scent of her house. Just then he could smell the same of the wet earth beside him.

  Blake turned his head to look at the clear etching of Tanner’s name on the glaringly white headstone. He stretched his hand out and his fingertips tentatively traced the letters.

  “He was my brother.” Blake felt his chest seize again and the tears fell down his unshaven cheeks once more. The groundkeeper remained silent, but Blake could have sworn the man stood a bit taller. A few minutes passed as Blake tried to reclaim his sanity, whatever shred still existed.

  “A true loss and a noble gift.” The man murmured with a bowed head. Blake could only nod, struggling to get to his knees and then his feet.

  “I don’t even know where home is anymore.” Blake sniffed loudly and pulled his jacket closed. It was a balmy late afternoon, but he felt frozen to the bone. The man moved back to let Blake come around the gravesite.

  “Perhaps it’s time to discover just where it is.” The man watched Blake take one step and then another. There was a vicious urge to retreat back to his position beside the headstone, but he fought it back. “I pray you find peace wherever your roads lead you!”

  Blake could still hear the faint shout from behind him, but he never turned around. He was too afraid that if he gave in to one more look, he would never leave. He would expire right there next to the friend he swore he would never abandon.

  A vision of a knobby-kneed and gangly boy with shaggy blonde hair sprang into his mind. Two missing front teeth and a smattering of freckles on his nose caused a whole host of teasing. Tanner Briggs had greeted it all with humor while Blake had fought every bully he had come across. The two boys had made an odd and unlikely pair, but they were the best darned friends two kids could ever be. Blake used his sleeve to swipe at the warm tears. It wasn’t likely he’d forget his brother. It was even less likely that he’d forgive those responsible for Tanner’s death and himself for not dying right alongside him.

  Blake returned to the hotel room just long enough to sleep and pack his belongings. A faded green canvas bag with a couple changes of clothes, Tanner’s service tags, and two photographs. One picture was of Blake and Tanner suited in their fatigues and giving the camera a thumbs up. The ever familiar ache gripped his insides at knowing now that this was the last picture taken of them. He kept hoping that this smiling, eager-to-make-a-difference face would be the one Blake remembered of his friend. Too bad the image that plagued him was as opposite as it could be.

  Sliding the protective plastic sleeve over that photo, Blake held the other for a second. He took a deep breath and looked at the couple. His mother had been beautiful before alcohol and a string of ba
d guys had warped her. The man in the jeans and cowboy hat was his father. A father he had never met. A man that had no idea he had a son. Blake knew his mother wasn’t a saint, but she’d confessed the secret to him just before she died.

  Too bad she hadn’t shared the mystery man’s name.

  As he sat there holding her hand, it was the farthest question from his mind. Now he wished he had asked. Blake flipped the picture over.

  Hot Springs, South Dakota.

  That’s all that graced the back. A town he had never heard mentioned. A man lived there that was his blood and this man had no idea Blake was his son.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Blake pulled his truck up alongside the curb and stared at the stretch of road that ran ahead and behind him. It was a small town. Eerily unfamiliar and strangely familiar at the same time. He had spent the greater part of fifteen years moving from place to place as his military career dictated, but no place was ever home.

  Home.

  There was that weird concept that he had never truly known. Hot Springs was just a simple, no frills and all grit Midwestern town, but in some mesmerizing way it called to him. He looked at the sandstone buildings bricked high and he stared at the shallow river that ran next to a sidewalk in the ravine below. In researching the town, Blake remembered reading about The Freedom Trail. He marveled at the sheer beauty of the cracks and crevices of the rock as it loomed high. A beautiful waterfall fell from the top and fed the river. The mist spread out from it like a shimmering cloud and Blake felt a moment of peace taking this all in.

  It was more than he had hoped to find at the end of this journey. He had driven from Washington D.C., where he had said goodbye to Tanner and less than two days later, he was sitting here on North River Street. He was tired, maybe even closer to exhaustion. Blake closed his eyes and as he did his stomach growled loudly. It was easier to ignore his baser instincts but he was fairly certain he hadn’t eaten in a day. Unbuckling his seat belt, Blake took the keys from the ignition and opened his door. A couple of cars passed by and each driver waved.

  So this is a small town.

  It was definitely going to take some getting used to. First rule of moving to a new place, you should always attempt to blend in. He was glad that he had put on his blue jeans and a clean t-shirt. Blake looked down at his feet. He made a mental note to find a store and purchase some new western boots. He checked it twice as he passed four different men with boots on.

  Glancing first up the street and then down, there looked to be a sign for the café only two buildings up. Each of the men who had passed him had come from there. Blake’s stomach growled again and he pressed his lips together in resignation. It was time to taste the local flavor. He walked to the green door and pulled it open as a couple of young women were attempting to leave. Blake held the door wide for them. The petite, curvy woman with long blonde hair smiled at him. He watched her as she paused to take a sweeping look and her brown eyes widened. He could only swallow hard.

  “Thank you very much.” She gave him a dazzling smile.

  “You’re welcome, ma’am.” Blake’s Texas drawl came out at the last even though he hadn’t lived there in nearly a decade. He thought that the women would move on about their business, but the curvy blonde tossed her hair over her shoulder. She stepped closer with a quizzical look on her pretty face.

  “Are you visiting our lovely town?” She asked him. Blake could only offer a nod. He really wasn’t looking for conversation. That didn’t seem to stop her.

  “Silly me! My name is Lena McCoy.” She crooned and Blake forced a polite smile. He wasn’t a rude man by nature, but so many things had shattered the person he knew.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Blake took one step around the door. “Have a nice day.”

  An audible huff sounded behind him as he walked into the café. He might have laughed out loud if he had seen Miss McCoy’s face at being dismissed. Sadly, Blake didn’t really care.

  Blake had to blink a couple of times to get past the shaded interior of the café compared to the bright morning sunlight outside. It was just another small town eatery that wasn’t much to look at but had some of the best food anywhere. It didn’t seem to be an establishment that a hostess might seat the patrons, so Blake found a booth in the far corner. It was quiet. He much preferred it that way.

  “Hello there, sweetie.” A matronly waitress walked up to the table and smiled. Her dark hair and full face gave her a homely air, but her green eyes fairly sparkled with humor. He couldn’t help but offer a smile in return. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here. Are you new?” The woman asked him with a wink. Blake lowered his eyes and gave a single nod. “Well then we shall do our very best to impress you quickly.” The waitress slid the menu from across the table.

  “Thank you. Could I get a cup of coffee, please, ma’am?” Clearly his manners speared a new tune.

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.” She bustled away and Blake smiled in spite of himself. She was rather friendly. He opened his menu and glanced only once at the specials. Being true to her word, the waitress came back with a clean cup and a pot of coffee.

  “Here we are.” She poured the steaming liquid into the mug and Blake sniffed the rich aroma. “Do you know what you’d like to eat?” She tilted her head in question.

  “Ham and eggs, please, ma’am.” His Texas drawl snuck out again and he mentally rolled his eyes at it. It was a place he wanted to forget entirely, but once in a while, it came out like a firefly in the dark.

  “Of course.” She took his menu and tucked it under her arm. “What brings you to our little town? Are you only visiting?” Blake swallowed hard and wondered how much to tell her. Sometimes answers could be found with the right questions, but small towns were famous for gossip. It could run rampant and he may never find out what he came here for.

  “I am visiting. I’m on leave here and was looking for a place to stay for a couple of weeks. Would you happen to know of any places that rent short term, ma’am?” Blake used his best good ol’ boy impression. The fact was that he had no idea how to be a good ol’ boy but he wasn’t opposed to the idea of being the salt of the earth and that kind of thing.

  “Please, you can call me Brenda. I have a friend that rents out her son’s home here in town. He’s in the service and will be gone for a year. I could give you the phone number and address if you’d be interested in looking at it.” Brenda pulled her order pad and began scribbling on it. Blake nodded when she ripped it off and handed him the single sheet.

  “Thank you very much, Brenda. I appreciate it.” He smiled warmly at her and she blushed.

  “Think nothing of it. Just tell her that you spoke to me and she’ll get you set up. I’ll go order your food now.” Brenda moved off down the aisle and into the kitchen. Blake let out a breath. He wasn’t here to deceive anyone. He just wanted some information about his family and if it wasn’t too much to ask, he would like to know that family as well.

  Blake finished his ham and eggs. Brenda was all too eager to keep pouring cup after cup of coffee. A full stomach, a good caffeine buzz, and a breather left him feeling more human and less animal. Blake got up from his booth and carried his ticket up to the front where the register sat. Brenda winked at him and came up front to finish his order.

  “I hope you stop in again soon.” Brenda smiled gently and Blake nodded in response. He looked at the flyers pinned to the corkboard by his shoulder. One on blue paper stuck out to him and he read the information provided. His brow furrowed in concentration, committing it to memory.

  “Do you know the man that runs this equine therapy facility for veterans?” Blake asked Brenda quietly, hoping his voice didn’t carry too much. Still he felt wrong to be whispering and so he refrained from it. Brenda tore the credit card receipt and put it on the counter for him to sign.

  “Sure. Everyone knows the Johnson family. Matt Johnson runs the vet’s place.” Brenda smiled as she took the paper back and then g
ave him his own copy.

  “The name sounded familiar.” Blake shrugged his shoulders. He put the receipt back into his wallet.

  “We are very proud of the things the Johnson family does for this town. Hot Springs has always been a welcome place for our servicemen and women.” Brenda smiled at him. “Come back soon.” She waved at him.

  “Thank you.” Blake returned the smile and stepped out onto the street. It was so quiet and peaceful here. Far and away an oasis from the hustle and bustle of the bigger cities he had lived in. Taking a deep breath of the clean air, Blake headed back towards his truck. Deciding to call the woman who Brenda had recommended for a place to stay, Blake pulled his cell phone from his pocket. The conversation lasted all of five minutes and he had the address. As soon as he had mentioned Brenda, his service, and the time frame he was looking at, the woman offered to rent the house to him providing he liked it. Blake figured there could be worse places and agreed to meet her there. He was definitely on to the next phase of his plan.

  Blake was pleasantly surprised at the charming, two bedroom house just off the street. It was a complete sell even before he had toured the thousand square foot house. The elderly woman was so very happy to show off her son’s place and was even happier to offer a place to stay to a fellow serviceman. Blake appreciated her warmth and concern when he said he would take it for a month. He even offered her cash up front. Blake had only planned to stay for two weeks, but plans can change. Even if he did happen to leave early, he felt good about his decision. So now he sat on the comfortable sofa in front of the flat screen television with the house keys in his hand.

  He was so tired that he hadn’t even turned the television on. Blake could only sit there and stare into the past. It haunted him like phantoms writhing underneath his skin. His very center was marred by smoke, blood and tears. The sounds of exploding vehicles and rapid rifle fire tore every bit of peace to shreds. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to be transported instantly back to Afghanistan and the tour that would forever change his life. Hell, who was he kidding? It had changed him and the man looking in the mirror was not who he remembered.