Montana Man: The Austin trilogy, #2

By T. D. Courtland

Adam Austin had bravely served his country in Afghanistan and now he wanted the seclusion and solitude of the small ranger outpost up on Thunder ridge in order to make the transition back into civilian life. Little did he know that events were transpiring that would bring him face to face with the one thing he detested most, politics. It came in the form of a stunning blond who resided at 1400 Pennsylvania Avenue. Angelique Monroe detested Washington and all it's vices, she wanted nothing more than to return to the ranch and horses she loved. Would she survive her encounter with this Montana Man?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613091623

Book preview

What They Are Saying About Montana Man

This novel kept me on the edge of my chair from the first part. I felt as though I was right there, seeing the plane crash, and seeing the only survivor, Angel, and the victims.

I was so engrossed in it. This novel, like the first one, Run In With the Law is very well written. It keeps you wanting more!

I must say that, the two novels should be made into a mini series! And maybe in time, they will be..

I think they are going to be best sellers! I give Montana Man two thumbs up!!

It is also a very inspirational romance novel. Very tastefully done...

God Bless You, David!

You are an exceptional author!

Theresa (Terri) Carter ...

Montana Man

T. D. Courtland

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Inspirational Romance Novel

Edited by: Joan Afman

Copy Edited by: Rosalie Franklin

Senior Editor: Joan Afman

Executive Editor: Marilyn Kapp

Cover Artist: Pat Evans

All rights reserved

NAMES, CHARACTERS AND incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Copyright © 2013 by David W. Hayes

ISBN  978-1-61309-162-3

Published In the United States Of America

Wings ePress Inc.

3000 N. Rock Road

Newton, KS  67114

Dedication

To my dear friend Annamarie Page. You always told me to follow my dreams, just as you have! God Bless you!

One

The wind howled through the trees as Adam eased another log onto the blazing hearth before moving across the carpet to take a seat in his favorite recliner. There were times that he really disliked his job; but this sure wasn’t one of them. It felt so good to just kick back and enjoy the peace and tranquility that this place afforded.

The past few months had found him spending more time keeping abreast of part of his family’s business, something he had grown to detest, sort of like a bug bite you have to keep scratching. He had taken this post on the recommendation of his supervisor, and so far the job had been one of peace and serenity. He could keep tabs using his laptop and that was just fine with him.

It was also nice that he was twenty miles from the nearest human being and his only company were the two thoroughbred horses whose stables were attached to the back of the log house here on the crest of Thunder Ridge and his faithful canine friend Tex, his thoroughbred Akita. Closing his eyes, he let himself enjoy the plush comfort of the recliner only to open his eyes an hour later. Getting to his feet he stretched as he pondered what to have for dinner. He still had a part of the pot of homemade chili in the fridge, and some of the big pot roast he had cooked in the crock-pot yesterday. He could cook up some potatoes and make a nice, big, hot beef sandwich for supper, then sit in front of the flat screen TV. He hoped he could find something find something to watch on the cable that came in from the power lines across the valley.

The last snowstorm that had hurtled in from the Canadian border almost a week ago had brought almost thirty inches of powder to the park. Adam knew that this was just the beginning. After watching the weather systems on his lap top he knew that the yearly cycle of storms were even now lining up to come down from the arctic to hit with a vengeance.

Not that he had anything better to do than to watch and monitor the avalanche areas in the adjoining valleys. Cross-country skiers and snowmobile riders were always showing up, seemingly oblivious to the treacherous areas they preferred.

Adam moved to the kitchen area, flipping on the scanner mounted under the cabinet as he passed. It was tuned to listen to the airline frequencies of the commercial jets that flew over the mountains between Cheyenne and Butte.

ANGELIQUE BLINKED AT Joy with abject disbelief in her eyes. This couldn’t be happening! It had to be someone’s idea of a sick joke! She tried to brush off the woman’s order as just that, as the female Secret Service agent gave her that look.

In that instant she felt the gut-wrenching fear well up in her as she grabbed for her seat-belt. The starboard engine on the Lear jet was running rough; the co-pilot was on the radio talking to the tower in Butte.

Butte control, this is Whiskey Ocean Sam 258, do you read? She could hear through the curtain that separated the cockpit from the rear compartment.

Joy grabbed Angelique’s heavy parka, tossed it to her, snapping, Get it on, now! Angel’s face paled, and she nodded mutely, releasing the belt just long enough to comply as she felt the craft shudder. The starboard engine gave a muffled BANG! then started to spin down as it lost power. The pilot increased power on the port side engine before attempting to restart the starboard engine. The veteran Air Force pilot tried to compensate for the loss of thrust, and in utter terror they heard the remaining engine start to run rough as well.

Angelique saw Andy; the other agent, talking on the encrypted satellite phone, sending out a call for help. Closing her eyes, Angel fought down the nausea churning in her stomach as she remembered the verses she had read only that morning in her Hotel suite, What time I am afraid, I will trust in you.

Softly she prayed, Father we could sure use some help right now. I’m scared and need your help, please?

THE LOOK ON BRIAN LAMONT’S face when he walked through the door told the man sitting at the head of the table something was amiss, something serious. Had the North Koreans done something stupid again? The lean Harvard-grad chief of staff leaned down to whisper, Sorry to intrude, Mr. President. But we have a situation that needs your immediate attention.

The man paused as the Commander-In-Chief retorted, Well speak up, Brian, what is it?

It’s Mustang, Sir. Her Lear Twenty-Nine is in trouble. They are making a forced landing somewhere in Montana. Our recon satellites are tracking them now, but the weather is bad there and-

The man seized the phone before him and snapped, "Get me General Banks at NORAD now. There was a pause, then he growled again, Keith, my daughter is- oh you are. What’s the status?"

ADAM SET THE PAN OFF the heat, and shutting off the stove he spun around to stare in disbelief at the scanner as the pilot of the crippled aircraft gave his current position. The craft was a mere twenty-eight miles away and losing altitude. His brain calculated the distance and glide path; the trigonometry was basic high school math. There was no way they would clear the ridge, not with a bad engine.

With a soft, Blast it all! he plucked the medical pack off the hook by the back door and set it on the table, as he grabbed for the satellite phone on the wall. He knew that the plane would be on the ground before he could reach the only viable landing site.

He punched in the number for the main station thirty miles away in Bedford. The senior supervisor, Charlie McBride, answered the phone on the first ring. Bedford Ranger Station.

Charlie, Adam. I have what sounds like a corporate jet headed this way with a sick engine. From the sounds of it, they’re not going to clear the ridge. I have a probable GPS fix on them now. There is only one place to set it down, so I’m taking the snow cat to go search for survivors. I need Para-rescue on stand-by, plus a chopper to lift out the injured.

The senior ranger’s voice filled with disbelief, Are you crazy? There’s an Alberta clipper due in there in about ninety minutes. They are predicting about two feet of new snow plus forty mile-an-hour winds. You’ll never get to them in time!

Adam only partially listened as he slid on his heated snowmobile suit. I have to try, Charlie. Call the Civil Air Patrol. Tell them, too. I’m the closest medical help. I’ll keep in touch. Hanging up the phone, he took a deep breath then whispered a quick prayer; the poor people in that jet needed all the help they could get!

ANGELIQUE HEARD THE flight crew going through the checklist in preparation for the emergency landing they were forced to attempt. She knew full well there were no airfields nearby and the chances of surviving a crash landing were not in their favor. Joy looked over at her, reminding her of what she needed to do. Grab that pillow, place it against your chest, fold your arms over your head and lean forward. Keep your head down ‘til we stop moving. If the plane starts to burn, get out and fast! Angelique squeezed her eyes shut and silently prayed even harder.

MIRANDA MONROE BRUSHED past the burly Secret Service agent who moved to block the doorway to her husband’s inner sanctum. Thrusting open the door, she found him standing over his desk holding a phone to his ear. The members of the National Security Council had all made very discreet exits upon hearing the news, respecting the situation, however the woman had no doubt about the danger her daughter now faced.

She moved across the floor to stand across from him as he looked up, grimacing at her questioning expression. There was a sound at the doorway. She turned to find Brian standing in the open doorway. She frowned at him in disapproval, knowing that the man had only one thing on his mind; how can we make political points off this situation?

The President’s chief of staff sadly shook his head as he sighed, I’m sorry, Mrs. Monroe, the weather has blocked our satellite coverage. We lost them under the cloud cover about ten minutes ago.

Nodding in comprehension, she demanded, "What do we know? Tell me everything."

Well, the plane was serviced by National Guard personnel at the Portland base, home of the 142nd fighter wing. They took off on schedule and were over Sierra Mountain National Park when the pilot radioed in that they were experiencing engine trouble. A pair of F-15’s were scrambled right away. They can cruise at Mach 2 and should be coming up on the last position of the aircraft in about eight minutes. Also the 123rd weather flight squadron has launched a C-135 weather plane to scan the area for any thermal signatures.

He paused. Miranda saw the sad look in his eyes as she replied, Like a burning aircraft, or bodies. Brian looked away, and she felt a stab of guilt, knowing she had talked Angelique into doing this hospital dedication.

There was a sound behind her. Miranda faced her husband as he said, The controllers at Northwest Air Command just lost the transponder signal. The plane is down, God only knows where. The First Lady grabbed the edge of the desk as she felt her knees go weak. She all but collapsed into her husband’s arms as she sobbed, Oh Brad, what are we to do?

BEING PREPARED FOR emergencies was part of the intense training that Adam had passed to become a park ranger. He hurried out into the metal building and started the V-6 diesel engine in the snow cat. While it warmed up, he loaded the equipment into the back of the tracked vehicle.

Med kit, emergency shelter, extra rations, extra batteries for the radio, the rechargeable flashlights, blankets, water, and his ever present .44 caliber desert eagle auto-loader in his cross-draw holster.

Pulling on his crash helmet, Adam slid into the driver’s seat and hit the automatic door opener. He entered in the emergency frequency on the scanner, as the door lifted. Checking his compass setting, he drove the bright orange vehicle out into the late afternoon overcast.

The only place to set down the crippled jet was Thornton pass. It was a mere three miles away, but accessible this time of year only by fire road. With his snow glasses in place, Adam set the snow cat in motion, accelerating up to a steady thirty miles an hour. The wide dark tracks sent snow flying up behind the vehicle like a wake behind a speeding boat.

The scanner kept him aware of the situation, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the pilot describe the mile-long clearing as he eased the crippled jet below the ridge line. The four feet of snow in the pasture would cushion the landing, but the rock face at the end of the valley would be nasty if they hit it.

THE JET PILOT USED every skill he had as he eased the crippled Lear Twenty-Nine over the tops of the trees, while the co-pilot kept an eye on the airspeed. They were gliding eight feet off the ground, moving just above stall speed as the twenty-year veteran pilot pancaked the Lear down in the soft powder.

Angelique had heard the pilot tell the co-pilot to jettison all the remaining fuel as soon as they found they couldn’t re-start the engines. A deep sense of peaceful resignation surged through her as she felt the aircraft pancake in. So this was what dying was like. The pilot gave them a few seconds warning from the cockpit. Seconds later she could hear the snow against the bottom of the fuselage.

The jet settled gently, and she felt it sink into the deep snow. The left wing tipped down and caught the wingtip fuel tank. The craft spun around, the snow flying over it as it turned, moving almost sideways down the hundred-foot-wide pasture. Angelique screamed as the plane tipped sharply up on one wing, then dropped back down, tossing her against the tight seat belt. Her head struck the bulkhead. Everything went dark as the plane continued to slide towards the rocks.

ADAM SAW THE LINE OF clouds that rode the edge of the front that rapidly bore down on the pass. He turned the snow cat onto the moderate grade that edged the meadow. He shook his head as he cleared the tree line, catching a glimpse of the mangled mass that was half buried in the snow at the far end of the open area.

He was no pilot, but knew that the man at the controls had made a Herculean effort to keep the plane in one piece and it had cost him dearly. The ranger surveyed the half- buried aircraft as the cat moved swiftly across the snow. He realized it would take a miracle to find anyone alive inside the wreckage.

JOY FORCED HERSELF to open her eyes, ignoring the raw fire that radiated from her side. She managed to turn her head, and stared in disbelief at the body sitting across the isle from her. The unnatural angle of her fellow agent’s head told her he had died instantly. Turning her head the other way, she breathed a sigh of relief seeing Angelique’s body still securely snug in her seat.

The jet had miraculously remained upright, even though she guessed that the cockpit was a disaster. Her training kicked in as she fumbled for her seat-belt. Every movement was sheer agony, making her realize that she was hurt worse than she had first thought. Please, Father, give me strength! she prayed aloud.

Biting her lower lip, she reached the limp form in the seat and, gritting her teeth she sought out the girl’s pulse. She weakly called out her name, Angel? but got no response. Closing her eyes she breathed a quick prayer, asking God to spare her friend’s life. Her senses found only trace elements of fuel fumes and she didn’t hear any sounds of electrical fires as she felt the strong, steady throb of life under her bloody finger tips. She whispered, Thank God, oh thank you, Father. Joy paused, and suddenly she heard what she thought was a male voice. Bright lights pierced the dimness of the compartment as she breathed a sigh of relief. Someone had found them; but who was it? Had all this been part of an elaborate plot to kidnap her principal? She reached for her Sig and waited.

ADAM STOPPED THE SNOW-cat mere feet from the aircraft. He grabbed his heavy leather gloves and slid them on before working the door handle. The wind out here was stronger as the front moved through. Instinctively, Adam knew he had only a short time to get into the wreckage to search for any survivors.

He stepped off the wide track of the cat, and fought his way through the knee- deep snow, muscling his way to the hatch. The airframe had flexed during the forced landing, twisting the door seal out of the frame. Grabbing the top edge, he pulled outward, putting all his two hundred plus pounds behind the effort.

The hydraulic cylinder resisted momentarily—then gave way, the bracket weakened by the crash, allowing the door to flop down into the snow. Adam pulled the hand torch from his belt as he called out, Hello, anyone there?

The sight he discovered was all too familiar to a man of his experience. The body of the man in the seat had suffered a broken neck. Adam sadly shook his head. Carefully he played the light about the compartment. Oh, good grief!

A woman sat on the floo,r holding a very business-looking, matte black auto loader pointed at his chest. Remaining still, he said, Easy there, ma’am. Adam Austin with the US Forestry Service. May I be of assistance?

The woman lowered her weapon and indicated the young woman strapped into the seat beside her. Adam scrambled inside. What’s going on here?

ANGELIQUE STRUGGLED to fight her way back to consciousness through the layers of pain, failing miserably. She faintly heard a strange, male voice. Then she heard Joy speak. "We had serious engine trouble, had to