I’m currently working on BOXCAR CHRISTMAS, (release date: 1.1.2018) my next Delos Series holiday story. Last year I tried SNOWFLAKE’S GIFT and it was warmly received by my readers. Everyone loved it and so I thought I’d try it again.

I realize the title is odd, but as you know me by now there is a “story behind a story.”

Some of you may know that I moved twenty-two times in the first eighteen years of my life, living in seven different states in the western USA . My step-father moved us about every nine months. He was one-quarter Eastern Cherokee so maybe he got the ‘seasons change gene’ and that’s why.

Anyway, one of the places we moved to was Blackfoot, Idaho. We were very poor and there was a red caboose train car—it’s carriage had been taken off and it had been set on a concrete slab—for rent. Can you imagine six people living in there? The caboose was probably about 400 square feet. It was a “tiny house” long before the word was coined.

We lived there for nine months. I loved it. We all learned to move like water around rocks—the parents—in the caboose and it worked well. I loved going out at dusk because we’d get Nighthawks in huge swarms of 15 or 20 in each flying over the area. The caboose was also near a red raspberry patch, so we got to eat our fill and get pies made by Mom, when they were in season.In our caboose I felt safe, like a pair of arms were around all of us. I truly loved the boxcar life.

For years I’ve wanted to write about a red caboose. Nowadays, there isn’t a caboose  on trains, which I find terribly sad. But I wanted to wax nostalgic over that wonderfully happy time in my life.

Now that you know what’s behind this story, I hope it will enhance a wonderful story with a heart-warming ending. And if you enjoy stories about military vets, plus like dogs and puppies? You’ll be in seventh heaven!

“I need your help. Tell me how I should go about meeting your sister. What will work best to keep her relaxed and not tied in knots about me stepping into her life and replacing Ram?” Tyler Hutton asked.

Groaning, Ali slid her hand around Ram’s waist and rested her head against his shoulder. “I wish I knew, but I don’t. There are days when she’s sunny one moment and a thunderstorm the next, Tyler. And today is one of those days.”

“What happens when she’s emotionally unstable?” he asked, studying Ali, who was clearly worried. She was an incredible combatant and he had nothing but the highest respect for her. Besides that, she was very easy to work with on the mission Artemis had put together to rescue Cara and the other women.

“When she closes the door to her bedroom, she’s anxious or depressed,” Ali went on. “If it’s closed, don’t knock, don’t try to see her. If her door is cracked open, knock very, very lightly, because sharp, unexpected sounds make her jump and put her into that emotional tailspin.”
“Okay, that’s valuable intel. Does Cara go outside the home?”

“On a good day, she’ll go as far as the porch swing because the rocking motion helps calm her. I think that’s been one of the biggest, most unexpected assets to helping her. That and knitting. If she’s keeping her hands busy, that calms her, too.”

“What about gardening? I was reading in the notes you sent that she loved being out in the sun weeding your mother’s huge vegetable garden.”

“On a really great day when her anxiety isn’t spiking, she’s out there on her hands and knees, weeding Mama’s garden. That was one of her jobs when she lived here with my parents while attending Arizona State University.”

“Do you join her in gardening? Did you, Ram?” he asked, looking over at his friend.
“Ali does, sometimes, but I don’t,” Ram replied. “I’ll take the bench near the wall where the garden is. Cara’s told me it makes her feel safer if I’m around when she gardens.” He glanced at Ali. “Or, if Ali goes out and does the same thing, she’ll weed for about half an hour. I think the fresh air, sunshine, and some physical activity is what you should try to work Cara toward, moving forward. I’m not a medic or a shrink, but I see a difference in her on the days she goes outside and gets some exercise, instead of hiding in her bedroom all day.”

“How about getting her back in touch with nature?” Tyler wondered.

“Sure! Cara was always an outdoors person,” Ali said, excited. “When she was still teaching, she was always taking the kids on field trips. She feels the same way you do about getting outdoors and away from being in a building. Don’t forget, she’s half Native American.”
“That’s good to know,” Tyler affirmed. “It gives me some workable ideas to keep pulling her out of the shock and getting her back into real life.”
Ram held up his hand. “Don’t go too fast with her, Tyler. Her whole world is focused on feeling safe. When Cara feels really safe, she’s out in the garden. I’ve managed to get her to walk out the front door and off the front porch,” he said, gesturing toward it, “and she’s been able to walk with me to the end of the block where the home’s stucco wall ends. But she’s deathly afraid that Azarola is going to get even and come hunt her down again, because they know where they kidnapped her the first time. She’s been home five weeks, now.”

Tyler nodded. “Mentally, that’s a big hurdle for her to overcome, Ram. For anyone. But at least you urged her out the front door and that’s half a block to the end of the home’s property. That’s real improvement. It shows she really wants to get well and get past this trauma.”

“Really?” Ali asked, hope in her tone. “Just how much psychology training do you have behind you, Tyler?”

He felt warmth sweep up into his cheeks and knew he was blushing.

“Oh, he’s so damned humble,” Ram muttered. “He got a master’s degree in psychology while he was in the SEALs. We all called him ‘Doc Shrink’,” he said, shooting Tyler a grin.

“Wow,” Ali whispered, “I didn’t know that!” She went to stand near Ram, wrapping her arm around his waist. “You sure don’t look like a shrink, Hutton.”

“No one needs to know about that,” he mumbled, hating to be the center of attention. He was here for Cara, not to spout the alphabet about the degrees behind his name. “I try not to let anyone know. Can you keep that from your sister and parents? I know a lot of people have a negative view of a psychiatrist or psychologist, as if we’re studying them like a bug under a microscope. I’m sure at some point, I’ll come clean with her but for right now, let her know me as a combat medic and bodyguard. I think that’s enough.”

“Sure,” Ali promised. “You have a nice, gentle way about you, Tyler. I really do think you’re a fit with Cara. Do you have any other questions for us?”

“Not right now. Let’s get this meeting over with. I’m sure Cara is stressed over it and I want to try to minimize her worries if I can.”

“You’re a medic,” Ram said, gesturing him ahead of them on the sidewalk. “No one has a better bedside manner than you Delta dudes. She’ll fall in love with you, I’m sure.”
Wincing inwardly, Tyler knew that Torres was unmercifully teasing him, which was what SEALs did to each other. He said nothing, quickly taking the walk ahead of them and the two steps up to the red-tiled porch. The wood door had been sculpted by chisel, hammer, and love—by someone who very talented with his hands. It was quite a work of art. There was a desert landscape with tall, handsome saguaro cactus and craggy buttes in the background that sometimes dotted the American Southwest. What he liked most was the mother deer and her fawn as the centerpiece on the door, the rising sun behind them. “What kind of wood is this?”

“That’s Diego’s work. He’s Ali and Cara’s father,” Ram said, running his large hand across the smooth, polished wood. “It’s mesquite and it took him two years to make this in his garage. The man is a true artist.”

Ali snorted. “You’re a terrific wood carver yourself, Torres.” She looked over at Tyler, pride in her tone. “I’ll show you the beautiful horse he carved for me. It’s awesome.”
“I’d like to see it,” Tyler said, watching Ram open the door and gestured for Ali to go on in. They followed. As he stepped across the threshold, he took a deep, steadying breath. Now, he would finally get to meet the woman in the picture.

His heart filled with hope once again, despite his uncertainty about how Cara would feel toward him. Then, he remembered that she was in his care now. Tyler tried to steel himself inwardly. This was worse than being jumped by the Taliban hiding in an ambush!
Ali knocked lightly on Cara’s bedroom door that was ajar.

“Come in . . .” Cara replied, softly.

“Hey, Tyler Hutton just arrived!” Ali said enthusiastically, stepping inside the room and leaning against the door.

Sitting on her bed, her knitting in her lap, she gave Ali an anxious look. “I heard you all come in. His voice sounded low.”

“He’s a medic, Cara. Our combat medics are some of the gentlest men and women we have. How are you doing?”

Grimacing, she placed her knitting aside on the bed. “Nervous. Anxious. Scared. The usual.”
Ali came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I know how hard this is for you. Ram has been your light in the darkness since we brought you home.”

“No,” Cara whispered, giving her sister a warm look as she reached out and curled her hand into Ali’s. “You have always been the light in my life, and Mama and Papa, too. You’re right though, Ram did give me an extra boost of feeling protected.”
Squeezing her hand, Ali said, “Ram and I are as close as your computer screen. He’s given you his Skype handle and you already have mine. If anything comes up, you can get on there and talk to us.”

Cara bit down on her lower lip, her head dipping forward, her long curtain of black hair hiding her expression. “What’s Tyler like? Is he nervous? Does he really want to do this? Or does he consider himself a babysitter? I remember being with him and the German women after you and Ram left to defend us half way to that meadow. Honestly, I was so out of it, I don’t remember much at all as that team hustled toward escape.”

Ali gave her a slight smile. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? Tyler is an ex-SEAL. He can take anything you throw at him. Are you ready to say ‘hello’? Ram’s making coffee for all of us. We’ll stay for a bit, but I really think the two of you need to just sit down and get to know one another, alone and uninterrupted.”

“What if he’s not a fit, Ali?” Cara detested the strain, the fear in her low voice as she searched her sister’s calm face.

“Then he’ll stay here until Wyatt can get someone else to take his place.” She patted Cara’s damp hand. “You have to create trust over time, with whomever is assigned to you. I’d give it one or two weeks and see how you get along with him.”

“Is he like Ram? Will he give me space? Not follow me around like a puppy?”

“I think that you need to communicate with Tyler about what sets you off and what makes you feel calm and protected. He’s not a mind reader, Cara. He’s really looking forward to hearing what you want; that’s the best way he can serve you. You’re not going to hurt this guy’s feelings, believe me. SEALs are some of the toughest teasing dudes I’ve ever met. Tyler is quiet, he listens a lot and he asks good questions after you have your say.”

Cara chewed on her lip some more. “Okay. Dios, I’m shaking!” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away, shame filling her.

“Come on,” Ali urged, tugging on Cara’s upper arm. “He’s not going to bite you.”

Slowly rising, Cara looked at herself in a full-length mirror. She had thought long and hard about what to wear, finally settling on some cream-colored velour trousers, her comfortable white tennis shoes, and a light-gray top with three-quarter inch sleeves.

“I noticed you put some makeup on,” Ali said.

“Just some lipstick and blush.” She touched her cheeks. “I look so pale without it these days.”

“Maybe Tyler will be able to coax you outdoors more? You used to be a tan coffee bean at this time of year.”

“I did, didn’t I?” There was lament in her voice. “I’m not who I used to be, Ali.” Grief stirred in her chest because Cara knew that was the truth.

“Well,” Ali said, placing her hand on the door and opening it wider, “I think Tyler will find you very intelligent, sensitive, and kind. Just like him.”

She frowned, hesitating at the door. “I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose you and Ram. You’ve been my anchors since I got home.”

Cara hated feeling like a coward. She had never been that way before her kidnapping. She straightened, pulling her shoulders back, and whispered, “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Excerpt from Taking a Chance by Lindsay McKenna
Delos Series, Book 7B1
Pub Date: 8.01.2017

Ali felt anxious and frustrated while trying to project calm to her younger sister, Cara. At age twenty-six, two years younger than herself, Cara shakily stood between their parents, trying to smile, but it was forced and brittle. She tried to look ”normal,” but that word would never apply to her again.

Ali watched as her parents, their arms around her sister’s waist, carefully walked down the steps from the Operations building. Her sister was still weak after having been a prisoner in Mexico for three long weeks.

Above them, two A-10 Warthogs thundered by. The family was now at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson, Arizona. Ali had helped rescue her sister, along with the Artemis Security team. Afterwards, the group had flown from Mexico to Tucson for a long, arduous debriefing with the FBI, CIA, DEA and ATF. Everyone was exhausted, but Cara looked pale and weak. Ali suspected her sister would head straight for bed as soon as she got home.

Cara had been kidnapped off a street in Tucson less than a month ago. A kindergarten teacher for Delos charity, she’d been walking home from the school, only five blocks from the home where she and her parents lived. She had been stuffed into a car trunk, tied up, duct-taped across her mouth and drugged. She was then driven into the Sierra Madre mountains in the state of Sonora, which butted up against the US border. There, she was thrown in with three female German tourists, also abducted by his men. The four women were kept in a mountain fortress belonging to a drug lord named Azarola. who planned to sell his captives to sex traffickers.

Cara found out that a container ship anchored at Puerto Nuevo on Baja’s west coast would be leaving shortly for Asia. She would be hidden in a truck and driven dockside, put on board the container vessel, and join over a hundred other kidnapped women from North and South America, as well as children as young as eight years old, promised to buyers awaiting them. Fortunately, their plan was foiled by Ali and the Delos security team.

Now, Ram Torres, Ali’s black ops partner on the rescue mission, came and stood quietly by her side. They traded brief looks with one another. Ram’s presence always calmed Ali as nothing else ever could. She could feel tension radiating off him, his green eyes narrowed upon Cara as the family slowly approached them. Ram and Ali had been working together for years in the military and she was highly sensitized to his feelings. Right now, he was feeling very protective of Ali, knowing that her sister would be leaning heavily upon her in the coming weeks after being rescued.

Cara’s forced smile made Ali’s stomach clench. Her sister was, as Ram had put it earlier, “a clam without a shell,” unlike Ali. They had always had very different personalities, even as children. Cara had always wanted to be a teacher, and had gloried in her job as a kindergarten teacher. All she’d wanted was to make a positive change in the lives of needy children.
Ali, on the other hand, had gone into the Marine Corps at age eighteen.
“Ali!” Cara said brightly, “Thank you for coming!” and her parents released their arms around her, allowing her to move freely toward her sister.

Swept up in her grief for her traumatized sister, Ali forced her own wooden smile, opened her arms and took Cara into her embrace. As her arms wrapped around Cara, Ali could feel her sister trembling, and Cara clung tighter and tighter to her, burying her face against Ali’s shoulder.
As they separated, Ali saw the worry in her parents’ eyes. They knew Cara had been shattered by the experience–who wouldn’t be? And afterwards, she’d been debriefed for three long days, trying to answer questions along with the German women who had also been captured. Authorities had asked them detailed questions about Azarola and his fortress in the mountains, where they had been kept prisoners.

Ali knew that each woman had undergone a thorough medical exam by a woman doctor on base, and then spent hours with an Air Force psychiatrist. All that debrief material would be sent to Artemis Security, the in-house firm for Delos charities. The top-secret debrief would also be sent to other security and law enforcement agencies worldwide who were dealing with this situation.

Ali was itching to read that report! As she released Cara, she saw that her skin was stretched tight across her high cheekbones, her black hair drawn into a pony tail, her dark brown eyes almost black with terror etched deep within them.

Ali knew her baby sister did not have the internal grit that she did. Cara had always been the “soft” one in the family, as her father, Diego, had once confided to her. Mary, her mother, once told her that Cara had been born without a protective shell and therefore, needed protection.
“Cara, I’d like you to meet Ram Torres, the man who led the Artemis team to free you and the others,” Ali said.

Cara turned to the tall, dark-haired man with intense green eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Torres,” and she stuck her hand out toward him. Her voice trembled. “Thank you for saving all of us…”
Ram managed a gentle smile, knowing that his hard, weathered face had been known to frighten women and children. He gently grasped Cara’s damp, cool hand. “You’re welcome, Senorita Montego.”

“Call me Cara,” she insisted, releasing his hand. Then, glancing at her parents, who stood nearby, she asked wearily, “Mama? Papa? Can we go home now?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Mary said, coming forward, sliding her arm around Cara’s waist again. “Papa put our pick-up in the parking lot across the street. Come this way.”

Hesitating, Cara gave Ail and Ram an anxious look. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you? I don’t feel safe alone. I was told in the debriefing that Mr. Torres would be staying with us at our home for a while to make me feel safe. Is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ram said, speaking up. “I’m your personal bodyguard detail. Your parents have given me their guest bedroom and I’ll be in the house and accompany you whenever you go. You’ll be safe, Cara.”

Ali saw her sister’s face mirror utter relief hearing Ram’s words of reassurance. She knew he could project quiet strength to her sister and her parents. He was a wonderful anchor for someone to hold onto.

Ram had been right in his raw assessment of her younger sister’s state: she was traumatized to the point of being lost, unable to grapple with what had happened to her. Actually, Ali still wasn’t sure what had happened to Cara. She was eager to get her hands on the debrief report that Lockwood had.

“Oh,” Cara whispered, giving Ram a grateful look, “that’s wonderful. Thank you for doing this, Mr. Torres.”

“Call me Ram, and it’s my job—one I’m happy to provide, by the way. Just know that I’ll be with you for as long as I can.” He gestured to Ali, who stood nearby. “And remember, your sister is a trained operator, just like me. You actually have two guard dogs in the house protecting you. Ali is just as good as I am at being a private security detail.”

Cara gave her a grateful look. “I-I know. But it’s nice to have both of you so close. I-I worry that Azarola will send men back here to take me away again.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ali told her.

“A-are you staying with us, Ali? Tell me you will, okay?” Cara begged.

“I’m staying for as long as you need me, Cara.” Ali reached out, briefly touching her sister’s slump shoulder. “You’re safe now. And there’s no way Azarola will come after you again. Ram and his team put a huge hole in their operations. They aren’t focused on you any longer. They’ve got their hands full with other issues they have to address, okay?” and she gave her sister a very confident look.

There was no way Ali was going to appear weak, unsure or hesitant around Cara. She knew what it took to make her sister feel stable again. She’d spent her formative years being Cara’s shield and protector, so it was easy to move into that role once more for Cara’s sake. Instantly, she saw Cara grow a little less frightened.

“That’s wonderful!” Cara wobbled. She reached out, gripping Ali’s hand. “I’m ready now. Let’s go home.”

Excerpt from Trapped by Lindsay McKenna
Delos Series, Book 7
Pub Date: 7.17.2017

“GET THAT BITCH!” screamed Emilio Azarola, waving his Glock 18 in her direction.

Aliyana Montero spun around on her combat boots, grinning like the jaguar she was. Gripping the M4 in her gloved hand, she sped off into the woods of Mexico’s Sierra Madre Mountains. That bastard Azarola, drug kingpin of the state of Sonora, had met his match today! She’d ambushed a four-vehicle convoy and taken out three of them with her RPG launcher. Millions of dollars of drugs just went up in those explosions.

Azarola knew her well, and this morning she wanted the sick bastard to know it was El Jaguar who ruled, not him. He’d given her this nickname two years ago, and she’d been a ghost in his life, making hit-and-run ops against his illegal business, costing him millions of dollars in lost and destroyed drugs. The CIA had hired her to do just that: work with the government of Mexico to take the notorious Azarola down and capture him.

Now, she was close. So close. Wind tore past her as she dug the toes of her boots into the damp, October mountain soil. Above her, snow was already visible at the very top of this huge range. The soft soil beneath her boots and the pine needles sinking deep into the rich loam slowed her down as she raced through the woods to escape. Weaving in and out between the thickly forested trees, her hearing keyed to the sounds behind her, she heard more screams, curses, and shouts.

She’d created two huge explosions on the dirt road where she’d nailed the trucks filled with illegal drugs. The fire had reached the gas tanks, and the memory of that image made Ali smile. She was still breathing easily at eight-thousand feet because she was acclimated and familiar with the mountainous region. She’d lived here for two years, playing hide-and-seek with Azarola and his murderous soldiers. It gave her great pride to know she was making the drug lord hemorrhage money when he lost his cocaine packets, heroine, and huge bales of marijuana carried by those trucks. He had sent them off toward the US-Mexico border where they would have met other, smaller shipments, waiting on the other side.

The drivers would have divided up the drugs on the US side and then taken off in six different directions in the desert, each heading for big cities in the Southwest and California. There, the drugs would be sold to local dealers.

Not today, she grinned savagely, satisfaction thrumming through her as she raced across the landscape.

As she ran, her legs pumping, the forest-colored military cammos she wore helped her blend into the autumn landscape. It was cool at the higher reaches of the mountains, but her heart was elsewhere.

Cara, her twenty-six-year-old sister, had been kidnapped by Azarola’s roving sex traffickers off the streets of Tucson, Arizona, a week ago. Ali had disobeyed direct CIA orders from her handler at Langley, and gone straight to Azarola’s fortress high in the Sierra Madres. As a sniper, she had what was referred to as a ‘hide.’ It was where they hid from the enemy but could continue their recon activities. From her tree hide, she’d spotted her imprisoned sister with three other female, German tourists, all crowded into a small, outdoor cell. There were large tarps placed on top and draped down three sides of the cell where they’d been put. From a satellite, they couldn’t be seen. But Ali had seen them with her binoculars as she sat hiding in a huge pine tree about twenty feet from Azarola’s fortress. No one knew she was there because she was a sniper by training.

Sitting up in the tree, she’d spotted a soldier bring out a tray of food to the tarp enclosed prison. It was then she’d spotted Cara and the others. Ali had silently cried, her back against the huge pine tree, wanting so badly to go rescue her.

But she couldn’t because her odds were terrible—one trained military woman against forty drug soldiers. She’d be killed if she tried to rescue them without a plan and a back-up team. Luckily, she worked with a company of Mexican Marines from an outpost in a nearby village. These men were the best of the best in that country’s military. They’d teamed up with her often in the two years she’d been in the region. There were times they’d worked together to set traps for Azarola’s men and trucks, nabbing the drivers and drugs. But they’d never won the grand prize: Azarola himself.

Maybe today.

Ali whipped in and around the trees, the wind now tearing past her. She could hear the drug soldiers huffing up the slope, far behind her. None of them was acclimated to this altitude like she was. Being able to outrun them was her ace in the hole, and now she was leading them into a trap where she hoped Azarola would finally be apprehended. Then, she could concentrate on getting her sister and her fellow captives released.

She knew that at some point, they would be driven to a container ship anchored at Puerto Nuevo on the Pacific coast of the Baja Peninsula. From there, the ship would be bound for Asia, where the women would be sold as sex slaves.

SECRETS by Lindsay McKenna
Release Date: 11.21.16

December 23rd

 

Mark Reuss was in such deep shit he couldn’t see daylight any more. His broken lower left arm ached so badly, he wanted to yell like a banshee, but the blackness of the Texas night, the biting December cold seeping into his body, made him call on all his ex-recon Marine skills to escape up the hill.

He kept his night vision goggles over his eyes as he climbed, while below him ATF, DEA, Border Patrol and FBI agents swarmed around an 18-wheeler truck. Thanks to Mark, they’d made a surprise raid on Mexican drug lord Diego Cardona’s vehicles, and now American agents were rounding up what was left of the members of his drug and sex slave cartel.

Sixty kidnapped children from Mexico had been on their way across the border in the massive trucks, all part of Cardona’s sex trafficking operation that regularly stole children from all over South America across Texas soil and taking them on to the East Coast to be sold. Now, the cartel had expanded from sex trading to running a monthly gun-and-run operation, as well. Mark, who had been sent into the cartel as an undercover agent, had set up the sting. The U.S. authorities had caught the transport, and this fortunate group of children had been saved.

His heart turned toward Mattie Lockwood. The least he could do was apologize for his abrupt behavior of two days ago. How he ached to see her, to be near her. But to do that could put her and her entire family in danger from Cardona. The drug lord had spies in every Texas town along the border.
Mattie was his touchstone, the one person in his life he could never be without. And yet, he was again about to disappear from her life without adequate explanation. She was a trained EMT. She could help him with his injury.

And how would she react to his banging on her house door in the middle of the night? Would she even let him in? Mark wasn’t sure after the debacle of him showing up at Mattie’s kindergarten school two days ago with her friend, Tal Culver, present. More than anything, he needed Mattie. She owned his heart and she didn’t even know it. He had to get her help.