Be mine again, p.1
Be Mine Again, page 1
BE MINE AGAIN
The President’s Daughters
Book 3
Kathryn Shay
Be Mine Again
Copyright © 2022 by Kathryn Shay
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
Published by Ocean View Books
Cover Design by Shelley Kay at Web Crafters
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Table of Contents
Cast of Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Author’s Note
Don’t Miss All of The President’s Daughters Stories
NOT FOR YOU Excerpt
About the Author
Cast of Characters
Main Characters:
Hannah Masters—third daughter of the president
Zeke Carter—Secret Service Agent turned bodyguard, Hannah’s old boyfriend
The President’s Daughters:
Annalise Masters Manwaring—twin of Andraya, member of the House of Representatives
Andraya Masters Manwaring—twin of Annalise, teacher at the Marcello School in Italy
Hannah Masters Manwaring—lives a self-sustaining lifestyle in Rockford, NY
Sasha Masters Manwaring—youngest daughter and sister
James Manwaring—president of the United States for eight years, retired
Karen Masters Manwaring—mother of the girls, former first lady, former attorney
Other Characters:
Chief Jake Scarlatta
Chief Cal Young
Reagan Rothchild—Mayor of Rockford, Zeke’s protectee
Mason Bennington—Reagan’s lover
Thaddeus Rothchild—Reagan’s father
Paul Saxon—Paul Anderson-suspect
Nell Blackstone—Hannah’s farmhand
Co-op People:
Al Transom
Joey Olsen
Kelly Marx
Places:
Bruni’s Bakery
The Rockford Hotel
DeLuca’s Diner
Bright Oaks Country Club
Café Italiano
Magnolia’s
Animals in the story:
The inimitable Trouble—the goat
Prince—Hannah’s black lab
Chapter 1
“Hey, Trouble,” she said to the goat who led an interesting life. “Want some company?”
The animal bleated her response. Multiple shades of a brown coat with a black snout, she also sported big floppy ears.
Hannah set up a gravity chair under a shade tree next to the pen. Prince, her black lab, was leashed nearby and lying in the grass out of the hot August sun.
She sat down and reclined the chair. Her body ached from the chores she’d done today. Danny Larson, her former farmhand, was unable to help because he was recuperating from his injury. Aloud she said, “Because he was shot by a rogue firefighter in cahoots with the mob.”
Prince barked at her words, then settled down to sleep.
Would her life, her family’s lives, ever return to normal? She thought about how her sister Sasha and Danny had been brought together two weeks ago when a member of organized crime went after him and Sasha got caught in the crossfire. Danny was shot saving her. They were getting married this Saturday.
But would Hannah be able to participate if she didn’t have a farmhand to do chores? Was she going to have to ask the co-op for even more help and depend on neighbors again like she had when she injured her arm? Or miss some of the pre-wedding events at the end of the week?
She didn’t know how long she’d been snoozing when she heard Prince bark again. Then, “I never reckoned I’d see Hannah Manwaring takin’ lazy naps in the afternoon.”
The husky voice made her eyes fly open. Slowly, she righted the chair so she was seated. She stared up in silence at Zeke Carter, at the man who broke her heart.
“Well, darlin’,” he added, his Southern accent thicker now, “I never expected I’d see you speechless, either.”
Prince approached her, but stayed at her feet, remarkably subdued in a stranger’s presence. Hannah managed to stand; the man still towered over her. She folded her arms across her waist. “What the hell are you doing here, Zeke?”
“Now that’s a story.”
Dressed in navy pants and a navy silk T-shirt, his muscles and fit physique were on perfect display. His blond hair was a little longer, and those damn blue eyes were still the color of a lagoon. He jammed his hands in his pockets, always a tell-tale sign he was nervous. Huh!
“I’ve been thinkin’ about you, Hannah. I heard through the Secret Service grapevine what happened with the mob. How you could have been…hurt or worse.” His voice got hoarse on the last word.
“As you can see, I’m fine and dandy.” Her sarcastic tone was armor against him.
“You look real fine. Fifteen years put some weight on you.”
He used to worry that she was too skinny. And before she turned eighteen, he’d called her squirt. “That’s none of your business.”
His expression turned bleak. “I know. I gave up that right.”
“You did. And I’ve forgotten all about you.”
“Have you?”
“Yes. Go away. I won’t believe anything you say. What’s more, I don’t care.”
“Han, I retired from the Secret Service.”
“What?”
“The last person I guarded got hooked into a scandal that made protecting her near impossible. And she was guilty to boot.”
“Senator Akins. I read about it online. I didn’t know you were guarding her.”
“I got twenty years in anyway, so it was time.”
It hadn’t been time when he ditched her after a year-long relationship. “I’m shocked. But truly, Zeke, I don’t care. Leave me alone.”
He glanced at his watch, a fancier one than what he used to wear. “I have an appointment in town in an hour. But I’d like to talk afterward.”
“Fuck talking. Just get out of here and don’t bother me again.”
“I will, until I meet with Rockford’s mayor today. Then I’ll be back.”
Don’t ask Hannah. Don’t ask. “Why are you meeting with her?”
“I applied for a job as part of her security.”
“You said you’d never do private protection.”
“I said a lot of things that turned out to be stupid. Really stupid.”
“I. Don’t. Care.”
“I’m comin’ back.”
“Why, Zeke?” She hated the pleading tone of her voice.
He raised that sculpted chin. “Because I miss you, sweetheart. And I want you in my life again.”
* * *
Zeke adjusted the taupe sports coat he’d thrown on for this interview and took the chair offered. “Hello, Madam Mayor.”
“Hello, Mr. Carter.”
Reagan Rothchild sat behind a huge oak desk and remained unsmiling. She was an attractive woman with auburn hair drawn back into a bun and understated makeup. Truth be told she looked like an uptight librarian. “I’ve read your application. Have you checked the list of the mayoral responsibilities of a city this size? I sent it out to the applicants.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her back was pin-straight. “I’ve been starting these interviews with questions from the candidates.” She arched a perfectly shaped brow. Zeke was used to noting everything about people.
“Why do you need a bodyguard?”
“Vanessa Jordan, the last mayor who became our state senator, had some issues with harassment. Before she left office, she put into place money for Rockford’s mayor to employ bodyguards. And the mob activity in town was a big part of my decision. A kingpin was killed.”
He waited. This wasn’t the whole story.
“Also, I’m the daughter of a very wealthy businessman. He’s had death threats.”
Her father headed a medical pharmaceutical company that had controversial practices.
Zeke added, “Some say he’s cut-throat and indifferent to who he hurts.”
“Some say that, yes.”
“Do you have any enemies?”
“Not enemies exactly. A reporter for the Rockford Sentinel seems to call me out a lot. He doesn’t like me or my policies.”
Now that was one thing Zeke didn’t know. But he’d done his homework. When Vanessa Jordan had left in the middle of her term to take a position of state senator, the person she picked to replace her had health issues and didn’t run for the permanent job. Ms. Rothchild did and was elected by a big margin.
“Go ahead and ask more questions.”
“Was your divorce amicable?”
“Yes. We drifted apart.”
“What would be the scope of my responsibilities?”
“You’d guard me when I’m at work. I have a driver who tak
He frowned.
“Why the expression?”
“If I was in charge of your security, your bodyguard would take you home from work then pick you up in the morning.”
“Why?”
“Those are particularly vulnerable times. Car accidents happen all the time. You need a driver who’s trained in evasive maneuvers.”
“And you’ve been trained, of course, in the Secret Service.”
“Yes, ma’am. And like that protection, you need a vehicle equipped with impenetrable tires, armored siding and bulletproof windows.”
“The windows on the mayor’s car are bulletproof. The other two we don’t have.”
“Easy job to put on tires and insert armored panels in the vehicle.”
“There’s no budget for that.”
He stared at her. She had family money coming out the wazoo.
“But I’ll consider your suggestions. More questions.”
“How many people have you interviewed?”
“Three men and a woman.”
“Were they good?”
“Yes, all of them.”
“Did they make any comments about your car? About drivin’ you home and pickin’ you up?”
“No.”
He rattled off other things they should have queried.
“Only one asked about any of your last points.”
“Let me guess, the woman.”
The corners of a very pretty mouth turned up. “Yes.”
“How are you leanin’?”
“I was leaning toward her. Until your application came across my desk.”
“Does she have Secret Service training and twenty years on the job like I do?”
“No, Mr. Carter. She doesn’t. She was a former police officer, though.”
He moved to the edge the chair. “I think you have an easy choice.”
“You’re very confident.”
“I wouldn’t want a bodyguard who isn’t. Would you?”
“No. Let me ask some things now. I don’t yet understand why you retired from the Secret Service. You’re only forty.”
“There was a scandal involving my last protectee. It was a mess that I didn’t want to be in.”
There was more to the story, which he couldn’t tell a prospective employer. First off, he’d thought about Hannah a lot right after he’d broken up with her. And throughout the years they were apart. But the inciting factor was when he’d met up with the woman he’d married and divorced years after. She was pregnant with a toddler at her side. He’d realized he could have had that with Hannah. Then, he’d gone nuts when he heard about the mob being after the Manwaring girls. Both spurred him to take action. The scandal had been a good excuse to get off his ass and do something.
“You left willingly?”
“I did. I got a commendation from the President if you’d like to see it.”
“Yes, I would, but I’m sure you wouldn’t be telling me this if you weren’t above board.”
“Thanks, Ma’am.”
“Why do you want this job and not something in D.C.?”
Because Hannah’s here. “First off, I have friends here. And my parents are three hours away. Second, I’ve had enough of Washington. Enough of the all-consuming life of an agent.”
“Tell me about that.”
“I was dog-tired every night when I got home. I had no personal life to speak of. Too much scandal. A small town appealed to me and a job that isn’t twenty-four hours. Time off will have to be worked into the schedule.”
“Which would mean hiring two people.”
“The way I see it, you need a main bodyguard during your work days, someone to drive you home pick you up in the morning. You’d hire a parttime person to be with you for night commitments and on my days off, which I prefer to be weekends. Maybe the female job applicant would consider a parttime position.”
He took in a breath before he told her something that could lose him this job. “You also deserve to know I’m opening a security business in downtown Rockford. I already applied for my license and am going to check out a shop on Main Street to rent.”
Furrows marred her brow. “How will that affect my protection?”
“It shouldn’t. I have lots to do before the business can even open. And I’m hiring other employees when I get things together.”
“How long will you commit to me?”
“A year. I thought we’d reassess then.”
“I’ll have to think about that, also.”
He nodded. “Understandable.”
She watched him through shrewd hazel eyes. “All right, Mr. Carter, the job’s yours. If we can agree on one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement saying anything I do, anywhere I go, and with whom, is confidential. And before you agree, know that I’ll sue you if you break it.”
“I’ll sign that. But you won’t need it with me. I have integrity, so I wouldn’t go back on my word. And I was excellent keeping information about the U.S. president and his family to myself. You should feel secure after I sign it.”
She picked up papers in front of her. “Here’s the agreement. Take it to a lawyer if you want, but have the agreement signed when we next meet before you start on Monday.”
“And call me Zeke.”
“Call me Reagan.”
* * *
After he left, Hannah couldn’t get Zeke out of her mind. And it was way too hot in late August to go running; even a walk outside wouldn’t cut it. Instead, she brought Prince inside and settled him on the porch, then headed down the steps to her basement where it was blessedly cool. Half of the space had been converted to a canning and freezing operation and a spot to pasteurize Trouble’s milk. She by-passed the refrigerators, the sink, the small stove and several counters and made her way to the far corner where she’d set up a treadmill. Hannah had to stay in shape, and she used the machine especially during the winter for aerobic exercise. She’d developed plenty of muscles and strength working the land in the other three seasons.
She hopped on. Began to walk slowly. Accelerated wisely. When she reached her top pace, she let her mind wander to what had happened between her and Zeke in the past…
Hannah walked into her apartment after finishing a wicked day at the construction site where she was interning. She glanced at the clock across the room. Zeke was due here in fifteen minutes. She dashed to the shower, soaped up quickly, and was dry enough to dress, though her hair was still wet when he came inside. He set his key on the table.
“Hi, darlin’.” She loved when he called her that.
She crossed to him on bare feet, went up on tiptoes to kiss him. He still smelled like shaving cream.
But he eased her back.
She saw something in his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s sit.”
“We usually go in there…” she angled her head to the bedroom “…as soon as you can get here.” Their time together was precious.
She could tell he wanted to but he said, “No.” He crossed the room and dropped down on the couch. Held out his hand. “Come’re, Hannah.”
She sat beside him.
The fact that he took a deep breath didn’t ease the fear curdling in her belly. “I’m sorry, Han, but we have to cut this off.”
“This as in?”
“Our relationship. It’s gone on too long, anyway.”
“Only a year.”
“It should never have happened.”
“So you said 365 days ago.”
One night, when the senior agent guarding her was called in for something, he’d stepped up and driven Hannah home from work. On a lark, he went inside with her.
“I gave into my feelings against my better judgement when you turned eighteen.”
“I know that’s true. But you should be over those qualms by now.”
“I was…until yesterday.”
