Page 76 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

"We take care of our own. That's all I'm saying." The older woman patted her cheek. "Now eat. You've got the auction in twenty minutes and you're gonna need your voice."

Grandpa Quentin appeared at the dessert table, shotgun still propped casual against his shoulder, and surveyed the spread like a general inspecting troops.

"Might need to commandeer one of those cinnamon knots," he announced. "For strength. In case of emergency."

"There is no emergency," Charlotte informed him seriously. "Just baked goods and charity."

"Well, I believe in being prepared." He selected the largest knot, took a bite, and his weathered face softened. "Liv, honey, if I hadn’t been married for sixty years and too old to start over, I'd propose right here over this pastry."

"Get in line, Grandpa," Mike said, appearing with a tray of fresh coffee. "I saw her first."

Quentin walked away laughing,

The auction was chaos in the best possible way.

Cooter bid three hundred dollars for Liv's custom dessert experience, then immediately donated the prize back to the shelter. The chocolate torte went for two hundred. A local restaurant owner bought an entire month of Liv's breakfast pastries for his café, sight unseen, for five hundred dollars.

By the time it was over, they'd raised over eight thousand dollars.

Charlotte threw her arms around Liv's waist. "We did it! The puppies are gonna have so much food and toys and everything!"

“We sure did, sweetie.” Liv hugged her back. Charlotte presented her with a construction-paper ribbon that read "BEST BAKER" in crayon with approximately seven hundred glitter stars glued on.

"I made it myself," Charlotte announced proudly. "Aunt Heather said I used too much glitter but there's no such thing as too much glitter when you're making awards for people you love."

Liv pinned it to her apron and pretended the tears were from dust.

At two-thirty, Joe found Mike behind the barn.

"We've got a problem."

Mike's gut dropped somewhere south of his boots. "How bad?"

"Kenny spotted a drone. High-end surveillance equipment, not the kind you buy at Best Buy." Joe's face was grim. "He shot it down before it could complete its sweep, but Mike, someone's mapping the property in real time."

"Son of a bitch." Mike scrubbed both hands over his face. "How long do we have?"

"Hard to say. But if they're doing recon now?—"

"They're planning to move soon. Maybe tonight."

Sheriff Tucker appeared around the corner, the downed drone in an evidence bag. "This is military-grade equipment. Whoever's running this operation has serious resources."

"Can you trace it?" Mike asked.

"Already working on it. But I'll be straight with you, these things are designed by people smarter than me to be untraceable by people smarter than them. We might get manufacturer info in three, four days. If we're lucky." Tucker's jaw worked. "I don't think we're gonna be lucky."

Mike's mind raced through options, scenarios, worst-case possibilities. Every training exercise he'd run, every hot extraction he'd coordinated, every time he'd had to make calls that meant life or death.

"Should we shut down the bake sale? We've still got another two hours scheduled."

Mike looked toward the pavilion where Liv was laughing at something Charlotte had said, the afternoon sun catching in her hair, making her look golden and alive and utterly precious.

"We wrap it early. Say it was such a success we sold out. Make it a victory, not a retreat."

"And Liv?"

"Stays in the main house. Locked down. Protected." Mike's voice went hard. "Whatever comes, they're not getting to her."