The Brides 0f Purple Heart Ranch Boxset, Bks 1-3 Read online

  "I've got a lead on some specialists," said Dylan. "We'll go take a visit."

  "I'll keep praying for you," said Maggie. "We're not giving up."

  Sugar rubbed up against Fran's side. He leaned down and gave the dog his attention as his friends continued to try in vain to save his life.

  "In the meantime," Dylan said, "you need to get looking for a bride. We're running out of time if we all want to stay on the ranch."

  Fran hadn't bothered arguing. Dylan outranked him and would have no problem giving orders. Though this was an order Fran would not feel compelled to follow. So, instead, he nodded and changed the direction of the conversation.

  "Reed said he was having success finding women through a dating app," he said.

  "It's a crazy idea," said Dylan. "But desperate times, desperate measures. Right?"

  "I'll catch you guys later." Fran turned to leave. Sugar trailed in his wake. Fran turned back to Maggie. "Is it okay if he tags along?"

  "Of course," Maggie smiled. "Just don't let him get too excited. And watch that he doesn't eat anything he's not supposed to."

  "I know the drill," Fran assured the dog's owner.

  He and the dog took off down the path. The ranch sprawled out around them. He saw Xavier riding one of the therapy horses. The horses helped strengthen limbs lost, but just the feel of being atop a horse gave a man back his sense of power. Fran's day to ride was tomorrow. He wished he could go faster than a trot. But with his condition, he had to be careful.

  Instead of riding hard, Fran spent a lot of his time in the gardens. Working the soil was good exercise for the body, but also the mind. Watching things grow under his care soothed his soul.

  "Fran, wait up," Reed called out to him.

  Reed came from the mess hall of the big house where they ate many of their meals together, even though each bungalow had its own kitchen. Reed waved a phone in his good hand. The sleeve of his shirt was rolled up and pinned to the shoulder of his shirt where the forearm had gone missing, left behind on a blast back in Afghanistan.

  "Look at this." Reed shoved a cell phone in front of Fran's nose. "Fifty responses so far."

  On the screen was a carousel of images of women. Doctor Patel had told them about the app. It was designed by one of the psychologist's relatives. Patel had a hand in the compatibility algorithm.

  "Are these all women who want to meet you?" Fran asked.

  "Not just meet me. They want to marry me. And we thought this would be hard." Reed cradled his phone in his palm, swiping left and right with his thumb. Not much slowed the man down or got the man down much less a missing limb.

  "Marry you? Complete strangers want to marry you? Do they know about … you know?"

  Reed clicked over to his profile picture. It showed him clearly. He was in uniform with a missing arm. "Only thing a woman loves more than a man in a uniform? A wounded soul she thinks she can heal."

  Fran sighed. Not because Reed was being a jerk. Fran knew the man expected to find his true love out of this ordeal. Reed was optimistic to a fault.

  "This app matches compatibility to ninety-nine percent. If I can't find my life partner here, then she doesn't exist. I've narrowed it down to these five. This one has a ninety-eight percent match."

  Reed held up a picture of a pretty woman. The photo was staged, like she was a model. She was blonde with light green eyes but a touch too much make-up for Fran's liking.

  "She's practically perfect," he said. "I've invited her out for drinks this weekend. But she’s out of town until the end of the month.”

  Fran wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure if Reed was off his list of soldiers to watch, or if he'd need to keep an even closer eye on the guy to ensure his future was truly set. Fran was determined that all of the men would be settled and able to stay on the ranch after he was gone. Maybe this arranged marriage thing was something, especially if everyone knew what they were getting into beforehand.

  Reed continued on, telling Fran more of the woman's attributes. But Fran's attention was elsewhere. Sean Jeffries came down the steps of the medical offices. It was a converted barn they used for Dr. Patel and the nurses and other personnel who attended them and the therapy animals. Sean held the door open, making sure to turn his head so that only his good side was presented to those who came out.

  Out came Ruhi Patel, Dr. Patel's daughter. Ruhi was a nurse and often came to help her father with the soldiers that lived on and visited the ranch for their care.

  Ruhi and Patel chattered as they came down the steps. Sean looked down at the ground. But Fran saw him sneaking glances at Nurse Ruhi.

  Fran sighed. He'd long suspected Sean had a thing for Ruhi. If he did, Sean wouldn't consent to finding a bride on a dating app. That would mean Sean would be leaving the ranch too.

  Dr. Patel looked up, spotting the other men. He waved them over.

  "I see you're using the app," Patel said to Reed.

  "I have a date next week with a seventy-two percent match,” said Reed, holding up his phone to showcase a brunette with a round face. Looked like he’d forgotten all about the ninety-eight percent model.

  "I think it's criminal what they're forcing you all to do," said Ruhi. "Forcing you to marry to keep your home."

  "I thought you believed in arranged marriage," said Reed.

  "This is forced marriage. That's illegal."

  "No one's forcing us," said Reed. "We don't have to if we don't want to. We can live somewhere else and come here for our treatment."

  Sean looked away. Fran knew the man didn't have anywhere else to go which meant there was force in his situation. Fran didn't want to go either. He loved waking up on the ranch. But he didn't have a choice. His heart wouldn't let him stay.

  "My father's been trying to match me since I was a teenager," said Ruhi. "I have no interest in arranged marriages. I don't think I ever want to get married. There's no need in this day and age."

  The way Sean's throat worked told Fran that the guy was beyond liking Ruhi and was likely full blown in love. This would be a problem.

  "What about you, Francisco?" asked Dr. Patel. "Are you in the market for a bride?"

  "I can't give my heart away. It's broken."

  He'd said it with a smile, hoping to get a laugh. No one did. They all knew his condition.

  "It's a cliché, but they say love heals wounds," said Dr. Patel.

  Fran wanted to say love couldn't move metal, but he held his tongue and nodded.

  "If you're not ready for love, perhaps you can spend some time inspiring the next generation? It's Youth Day tomorrow at the church. I have a feeling your insights, especially your belief in a good education, could enlighten some young souls."

  Chapter Four

  Eva and Carlos climbed the steps to their apartment. It was a three flight walk up. On the ground floor, one of the neighbors had aluminum covering the holes of her screen doors. There were more patches of dirt than grass in what barely passed for a yard.

  The heavy glass security door required a key to enter. But as always, it was propped open so that anyone could gain access. Eva didn't bother moving the box from propping up the doorway. She knew that as soon as the door closed shut, someone else would prop something else in the entry.

  She climbed the steps with her brother in tow. Bugs skittered out of their way. Off in the corner, a rodent looked up at them as though annoyed that their footfalls had disturbed its peace.

  They reached their door and Eva produced a set of keys. She set about unlocking the three sets of bolts before the door gave way, but only a little. The chain link was on.

  "Rosalee," Eva called between the chain.

  There was rustling inside. Then the pad of socked feet on the worn wooden floors. Without socks, splinters were an issue.

  Brown eyes appeared in the slit of the door. Then it closed. There was a rustle of chain and the door came open, but only wide enough to let the two bodies in. Then a slam and the clanking of all the locks being put
back into place.

  "You have a good day at school, Rosalee?"

  Rosalee shrugged. Her skin was pale. She was lanky instead of plump from her inactivity. Eva knew her sister needed to get out more, or she wouldn’t develop better social skills. But inside was safe, so she didn’t argue much.

  “Got an A on my science paper,” said Rosalee, “but a B on my English paper. I'm revising it now to resubmit next week."

  Eva nodded. Her sister believed in schoolwork to exclusion of going out and being sociable. Her brother preferred to spend his time outside rather than in the classroom. If she could just merge them together, she'd have the perfect kid.

  Carlos went to the fridge. From here, Eva could see it was pretty bare. Things would be hard for a few weeks while she got settled in class. She should be hearing back from the student worker program soon. In the meantime, it would be Ramen every night for a while.

  "Aunt Val is in her room with her boyfriend." Rosalee headed back to the room Eva shared with both her younger siblings in the cramped two-bedroom apartment.

  Aunt Val had taken them in last year after Uncle Ricardo had his son come back to live with them. Before that, they'd stayed with some distant cousins, but that neighborhood was worse than this one, and Eva had quickly moved them out. Aunt Val's daughter had left the state with her boyfriend, and Eva had jumped on getting her room. Val had lived there for years, which meant there would be some stability.

  Giggles and heavy breathing came from her aunt's closed door. Stability was a relative term. Her aunt had a revolving door of men coming and going, but she'd stayed put in that apartment for ten years. Eva just needed her to stay for two more years, and then she would be able to afford her own place with a college degree and job prospects.

  All Eva needed was two years—three tops—before she had her degree secured, a job in the career she chose and moved her family into their own three-bedroom home.

  Eva went to the kitchen to prepare the Ramen just as her aunt's bedroom door opened. The burly boyfriend of the week spilled out. He gave Eva a once over that lingered a little too long. Eva kept her gaze averted. She didn't need any trouble with this man.

  "Oh, Eva, you're back. I have great news."

  Val was in her early forties, but she looked a bit older. She'd had a hard life, raising three kids and losing two of them to the streets.

  "You'll never guess." Aunt Val held out her finger. There was a worn, faded-silver band on her fourth finger with a speck of a diamond. One gem was missing. "I'm getting married. Mike proposed. Can you believe it? At my age. I'm getting married."

  Eva's hand stilled on the pot she'd just filled with water. "Wow. That's great." Though you couldn't tell from her tone. "So, Mike will be moving in here?"

  Mike grimaced. "No. I'm taking my bride and moving her in with me."

  Eva gulped. She turned a mutinous glare on her once stable aunt. "You're leaving?"

  "Yes, but you can have the apartment all to yourself."

  "I can't afford this apartment on my own."

  Aunt Val frowned. "Sure you can. Your job pays enough for it."

  "I quit, remember. I enrolled in college today. I put all my savings into tuition."

  "So? You can do both. You'll figure it out. Oh, Eva. My dreams are coming true."

  Her aunt's dreams might be coming true. But Eva's were now dashed. How was she going to pay for this apartment, put food on the table, and go to school? And with the semester starting next week, she couldn't get a refund. She was screwed.

  Chapter Five

  Fran walked into the room inside the church. It was a Sunday school classroom but the boys and girls inside weren't toddlers. Though they sure were acting like infants.

  Boys with sagging pants, even though they wore belts, sat on desks making overtures to young girls who wore more makeup than grown women and small shirts that were meant for five-year-olds.

  They were out of their seats or half in their seats. The seats were not in lined up rows. One kid had his shoes unlaced as he swaggered amongst the crowd. The disorder gave Fran a headache.

  Even worse, they were all talking over one another. One kid was blaring loud music from his earbuds. That couldn't be safe. This had to stop.

  Fran took a deep breath and in his most commanding voice, called the madness to a halt. "Ah-ten-tion!"

  All action ceased. All eyes went to him.

  "Kindly take your seats."

  All of the girls did as they were told, finding seats for their barely covered rumps. About half of the boys followed suit. A few hesitated. One defiantly stood his ground. It was the unlaced kid.

  "Who are you to tell us what to do?" The kid swaggered up to Fran. His pants sagged enough to show off his dingy underwear. He stopped short of coming within grasping distance.

  Fran closed that distance with two long strides. "Corporal Francisco DeMonti. Are you in the right place, son?"

  Though there was no verbal threat in his words, Fran made sure the menace in his voice was loud and clear. He knew he shouldn't get himself this worked up. But his heart rate hadn't increased for fear of this kid. It increased because he saw himself in this kid.

  A little punk wanting to prove his manhood, but unsure how. Wanting to puff up his chest, but not having any hairs on his chest yet. Having an increasing ego that could be popped with the wrong prick.

  Fran didn't want to deflate the kid. Just bring him down to the size he still needed to be. Not a little kid. Not a grown man. Just a young man.

  "Because if you are in the right place," Fran said, "then you might be able to help me out."

  The kid chewed at the side of his lip. Fran caught the flicker of relief in the kid’s eyes that he wouldn't have to go toe to toe with this bigger man against whom he was obviously outmatched. But still, the kid held his ground, not backing down in the light of authority.

  That was unlike Fran in his youth. When a recruiter had come to his high school, Fran recognized the command and took the direction. Not this kid.

  "What do you need help with, sir?"

  Fran peered over the unlaced kids head to another kid. That kid was notably smaller than the others. Fran couldn't tell if he was younger. There was a mature fire about the kid like those brown eyes had seen more of life than a kid should. But unlike the bigger kids, there was still a light in that kid's gaze.

  "I'm supposed to give a speech in this room, but the chairs are out of order. I was hoping to make a circle so I could see everyone's faces and they could see mine. Do you think you could get everyone to make a circle for me?"

  "Sure. I can do that."

  Fran stood back while the kid got everyone up and out of their seats to form the circle. It wasn't a perfect circle, but it accomplished what he'd set out to do. With the attention off him, the unlaced kid slunk into a seat between other sagging butts. Once the brown-eyed kid was finished and everyone seated, he turned back to Fran.

  "This good?"

  "Yeah, this is great. Thanks for that …?" Fran held out his hand while he waited for the kid to offer up his name.

  "Carlos."

  "Thanks, Carlos. You've got some leadership skills. That's what I'm here to talk with you all about. Leadership."

  Carlos took his seat and gave Fran his attention. The other kids followed suit. Most of them. Unlaced kept his gaze on his shoes.

  "Life will eat you up alive if you don't have a plan," Fran began. "Even with a plan, you have to be alert. Don't do anything without honor. Honor brings you loyalty. Loyal people will follow you. I've heard there's been some gang activity in this neighborhood?"

  Fran looked around. A few of the boys averted their gazes.

  "Isn't a gang like the army?" said Unlaced. "They have a plan. You have to be loyal to get in."

  Fran didn't immediately cut the boy off. He nodded, while he thought over the logic. "You make some good points. But dig deeper. What is the plan of the gang?"

  "To get money," said another kid. "To protect
the neighborhood."

  Again, Fran nodded. "But who are the gang members getting money from? Usually, someone who is weaker."

  The group of boys, who Fran now noted were wearing the same colors, had no come back for that.

  "A real man, or woman, doesn't prey on the weak. In the military, we protect this whole country from those that would try to do us harm. We reach out and help our friends when they are being bullied. That brings honor. To ourselves, to our families, to our community, to our country."

  "Are you here to get us to join the military?" asked Carlos.

  Fran shrugged. "It's an option. I'm here to make sure you know the difference between someone having your back because of loyalty and someone standing behind you because they're using you."

  Carlos's gaze went thoughtful. It was clear he was taking in Fran's words, mulling over their meaning. Meanwhile, the saggy gang huddled in on themselves, closing off anyone on the outside.

  That was pretty much the end of Fran's big speech. After a brief silence, he took questions. All anyone wanted to know about was his time in duty, if he'd killed anyone, if he'd fired a gun.

  Fran kept the conversation tame. He noted a few of the boys leaning in with keen interest. Carlos was one of those few.

  When Fran's time was up, Carlos lingered behind as the others filed out to hear another presentation, or in the case of the gang of boys, leave. Fran's chest swelled with pride that he was able to get through to at least one kid.

  "You know what you said in there was nice and all …" Carlos began.

  Fran frowned as he heard the telltale pause of an oncoming but.

  "But what if the neighborhood you live in is bad?" said Carlos. "And you don't have the money to get out? The only way to keep your family safe just might be by being in a gang."

  "There's always another way. Like education."

  "You sound like my sister."

  "Your sister sounds smart."

  "Yeah, she is. But she's still stuck in that neighborhood, too. Her education hasn't gotten us anywhere good so far."