Mission: Courage

By Emily Mims

PRECONCEIVED NOTIONS

Carrie Burke was misjudged and criticized by friends and family throughout her marriage, and their derision got way worse after she was freed from her abusive ex.

To say they had an extreme parting of ways is an understatement, and while she'll never regret her decision to protect her children any way she had to, she surely regrets the fall a good man took to make that happen.

Guilt is an insidious guide. So when her stepfather goes missing in the wilds of Canada, Carrie is determined to find him.

With her plan in place, she's waylaid by the arrogant and criminally sexy Jazz Washington. He's bossy, frustrating, and she can't shake his insistence to accompany her to Canada.

Jazz is no fan of Carrie Burke. But when his commander orders him to help find Joe, Jazz is duty bound to follow orders. And being partnered with the beautiful, sarcastic, and alluring woman turns out to be less of an ordeal than he expected.

When they learn the truth about Joe's disappearance, they're forced into a life-or-death situation, and have to depend on other to get out alive.

Turns out, trust can lead to all kinds of emotions they didn't anticipate, but are willing to explore.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
• Release date: Jun 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9781957295695

Emily Mims

The author of over thirty romance novels, Emily Mims combined her writing career with a career in public education until leaving the classroom to write full time. The mother of two sons, she and her husband split their time between central Texas, eastern Tennessee, and Georgia visiting their kids and grandchildren. For relaxation Emily plays the piano, organ, dulcimer, and ukulele for two different performing groups, and even sings a little. She says, “I love to write romances because I believe in them. Romance happened to me and it can happen to any woman—if she’ll just let it.”

Book preview

PRECONCEIVED NOTIONS

Carrie Burke was misjudged and criticized by friends and family throughout her marriage, and their derision got way worse after she was freed from her abusive ex.

To say they had an extreme parting of ways is an understatement, and while she'll never regret her decision to protect her children any way she had to, she surely regrets the fall a good man took to make that happen.

Guilt is an insidious guide. So when her stepfather goes missing in the wilds of Canada, Carrie is determined to find him.

With her plan in place, she's waylaid by the arrogant and criminally sexy Jazz Washington. He's bossy, frustrating, and she can't shake his insistence to accompany her to Canada.

Jazz is no fan of Carrie Burke. But when his commander orders him to help find Joe, Jazz is duty bound to follow orders. And being partnered with the beautiful, sarcastic, and alluring woman turns out to be less of an ordeal than he expected.

When they learn the truth about Joe's disappearance, they're forced into a life-or-death situation, and have to depend on other to get out alive.

Turns out, trust can lead to all kinds of emotions they didn't anticipate, but are willing to explore.

ALSO BY EMILY MIMS

Bear's Brigade

Mission: Treachery

Mission: Betrayal

Durango Street Theatre

Vivi’s Leading Man

Maggie’s Starring Role

Wade’s Dangerous Debut

Jessica’s Hero

Letti’s Second Act

Cameron Unscripted

Miranda Rewritten

Rachel's Favorite Villain

Sasha's Happy Ending

The Smoky Blues

Mist

Smoke

Evergreen

Indigo

Emerald

Mistletoe

Violet

Ruby

Amethyst

Noelle

The Texas Hill Country

Solomon’s Choice

After the Heartbreak

A Gift of Trust

Daughter of Valor

Welcome Home

Unexpected Assets

Never and Always

A Gift of Hope

Once, Again

Other Romances

Season of Enchantment

A Dangerous Attraction

For the Thrill of It All

MISSION: COURAGE

BEAR’S BRIGADE – Book 3

Emily Mims

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

MISSION: COURAGE

Copyright © 2024 Emily Wright Mims

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

ISBN 978-1-957295-69-5

To the hard-working agents of the DEA who put their lives on the line every day

and make it their mission to fight drug trafficking and keep our streets safe.

Ladies and gentlemen, I salute you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As always, this book was not written in a vacuum. I want to thank the Boroughs Editing Team and especially my Canadian editor, who caught helped make sure the First Nations were represented accurately and properly.

To the folks in the art department, who always design a kicking good cover.

I appreciate the many hours Boroughs publicity guru Aisha Poli has spent with me teaching me how to get the word out.

And, as always, thank you, Michelle, for having faith in me all those years ago and taking me on as a writer. I love you all.

Contents

Also by Emily Mims

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Author’s Note

Title page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Sneak Peek of Next Bear’s Brigade Book

About the Author

About the Publisher

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Rather than use actual small towns in British Columbia, Moose Creek Falls and Mountain Brook are entirely fictional and were conveniently located within the jurisdictional boundaries of the Tribal Police Force.

Also, I’ve taken liberties with Gastown in Vancouver, and with the location of certain restaurants and businesses.

I apologize for any errors, geographical or otherwise, and assure you they are entirely my own.

MISSION: COURAGE

Chapter One

Carrie

Carrie weaved her way through San Antonio traffic to the church where her brother, Harlan, was getting married. Her brain fizzled like sparklers as she white-knuckled the steering wheel.

"In all the world, you’ll never find a love as true as mine."

She reached out and snapped off the radio. The last thing she wanted to hear this afternoon was a damned love song. It was bad enough having to go to the effing wedding— listening to George Strait warble about true love was too much. Especially since Rachel Castillo, the love of Harlan’s life, had cost Carrie her brother.

Mom, are you okay? You’re breathing funny, her eldest, Nathan, remarked.

I’m using Lamaze, she said dismissively.

You mean like when you’re having a baby? Evie, her fourteen-year-old daughter, asked.

Works for anxiety too, Carrie said tersely.

"Boy, you really don’t want him to marry her," Nathan murmured.

She didn’t. She wanted to be glad for Harlan. She really did. After going to prison for years for killing the man who’d nearly beat her to death, Harlan deserved all the happiness life had to offer. But the woman he loved had come between Carrie and her brother, convincing him he and Carrie had been wrong about everything that’d happened that fateful night.

And, because of it, she’d lost her brother all over again.

They’d done what they had to do to protect a couple of innocent babies. But Rachel didn’t see it that way, and Harlan was so besotted he believed anything Rachel told him.

Common decency dictated Carrie go to the wedding. Plus, she needed to talk to Harlan about their stepfather, Joe. She’d take Harlan to one side during the reception and tell him about the disturbing message she’d gotten from Joe and get his take on it.

She drove the rest of the way to the wedding in silence: Nathan no doubt on his phone, Evie likely on her hand-me-down iPad—Carrie never could’ve afforded to buy it new.

She wished she could indulge them, but her salary as an LVN covered the necessities and barely much more.

As she pulled up, she saw the big, imposing church was a beehive of activity. Cars lined the road to get into the parking lot, and well-dressed guests thronged to the steps leading to the front doors.

Carrie parked in the back row, and the three of them got out and headed to the entrance. She smoothed down her dress nervously, wishing she’d had the money to buy something better. The royal-blue sheath became her and, according to the sales assistant, matched her eyes. But she still felt awkward.

She felt even worse about the kids’ outfits. There’d been no money for new clothes. Her children were in jeans and high-tops.

They climbed the steps together and were almost to the top when one of the ushers appeared at the door. Carrie glanced at him briefly before her gaze darted back for a second time. And then a third.

Damn, he’s a looker.

He was staring right back at her with a gleam in his eyes and wearing a flirty smile.

She stepped up to the door, and he offered her his arm. Bride or groom? he asked.

Groom, she said. We’re family. But let me sign the book first.

A tingle ran up her hand as she took his arm as they moved into the church. He escorted her to the wedding book stand where she signed hers and the kids’ names and picked up a program.

The pews were packed, but the drool-worthy usher spotted a narrow stretch of empty pews in the second row and escorted them to it.

Is this all right? His voice was low and mellow, like smooth whiskey in the shadows of late evening.

This is fine, she croaked, then cleared her throat and said in as normal a tone as her dry mouth allowed her, Thank you. He gave her a top-to-toe perusal before he started back up the aisle.

She and the kids moved sideways past an older couple who weren’t family and squeezed into the empty spot. The organist was playing prelude music, and people were chatting quietly.

Carrie looked around at the eclectic crowd. Rachel and Harlan’s friends had turned out in full force.

Rachel’s side was populated by her theater friends and both sides of her family: her father’s Hispanic relatives and her mother’s African American community.

On Harlan’s side, Carrie recognized a lot of friends from the old neighborhood. Friends who’d stood by him when he’d gone to prison welcomed him home with open arms.

She was glad they’d come. Her gaze kept returning to the handsome usher as he made repeated trips up and down the aisle. She didn’t know him, but she bet he was somehow related to Rachel, although he didn’t appear to share Rachel’s mixed heritage. Tall, surely well over six feet, his broad shoulders stretched his tuxedo jacket across his chest and back. His skin was a deep warm brown, and his curling hair was trimmed close to his head.

He stood ramrod straight, and his strides were graceful and purposeful. A soldier, maybe. Or a member of law enforcement.

As sexilicious as his body was, his face made her bite into her bottom lip. Bright brown eyes under a wide forehead, a square jaw, and a warm, wide mouth with smiling lips absolutely made for kissing.

His expression was confident almost to the point of cocky, but his constant half smirk gave hints of good-natured amusement.

She glanced over at her children. In a way he reminded her of Cole when he was young and still a half-decent man. Her children’s father had turned mean and abusive and was the man who Harlan had murdered to protect her.

The cute, funny Cole she’d fallen for had been blond, blue-eyed, and fair-skinned. A far cry from the usher’s good looks. But they shared confidence, cockiness, and charming smiles.

She could only hope that was where the resemblance ended.

It was unlikely her hard-nosed, soon-to-be sister-in-law would’ve included the usher in her wedding party if he wasn’t a decent man. Carrie didn’t know Rachel well but knew enough to believe the woman wouldn’t have tolerated an abuser in any aspect of her life.

The music changed, and the guests quieted. A couple of young girls, probably from the theater academy, came down the aisle and lit candles. Rachel’s grandmothers were seated. Tía Rosa was standing in for Carrie and Harlan’s mother, who’d passed a few years earlier.

Rachel’s mother came down the aisle on the handsome usher’s arm, verifying Carrie’s belief he was family.

The music changed, and the minister led Harlan and the groomsmen to their places in front of the church. She noted without surprise that one of the groomsmen was the wealthy Miguel Abonce, who’d stuck by Harlan during the bad years and helped him get the job at the Durango Street Theatre where he’d met Rachel.

Carrie was grateful for Miguel’s generosity and loyalty, but putting Harlan in the position to meet Rachel? That was a black mark that’d never be erased.

Carrie pressed her lips together and forced a smile as the bridal party proceeded down the aisle. She had to admit the beautiful bridesmaids looked happy. From the strong resemblance, she thought they were probably Rachel’s sisters.

Rachel was beaming, as was the distinguished-looking older man escorting her down the aisle.

Carrie stole a glance at Harlan and gasped at the utter love and joy on his face as his bride came down the aisle toward him. Carrie bit her lip. After all he’d been through, he deserved every bit of the happiness Rachel brought to him. But it’d come at Carrie’s and her children’s expense. She wanted to be happy for him, but it was damned hard.

The ceremony was short, and after the happy couple came up the aisle, followed by the wedding party, the minister invited the assembled guests to join the bride and groom at the theater for the reception.

Carrie looked at the crowd spilling out of the pews and wondered where there would be room for everyone in the academy classrooms.

She needn’t’ve worried. Since she’d been to the theater last, the Durango had purchased the rest of the property on the block, and the new addition had a series of rooms with dividers that could be opened to create a huge ballroom.

She felt a familiar pang of guilt, the same one that plagued her every time she thought about the academy.

Evie had expressed a desire to attend, and Rachel had said scholarships were available, but there was no way Carrie could swing the tuition. And after her falling out with Rachel and Harlan, nothing more had been said about scholarship assistance.

Not that it would’ve ever worked out. With Carrie’s erratic work schedule and shift changes, she wouldn’t’ve been able to shuttle Evie back and forth. But she couldn’t miss the longing expression on Evie’s face when she looked at the practice stage at the front of the room.

Shoving her guilty thoughts to one side, Carrie got a much-needed glass of wine from the waiter and was about to head for some of her and Harlan’s old friends when the wedding party started coming through the door.

Not wanting to be part of the inevitable meet and greet, she faded into a wall where she could observe from a distance. She’d speak to them later and get Harlan off to one side so she could talk to him about the problem with their stepfather.

But her solitude was interrupted when she heard a familiar mellow voice at her elbow. Hiding out? The usher’s lips curved into a smile as she turned to face him. I’d have laid good money on you turning the heads of all the single men in the room.

Carrie felt the flush run up her neck and into her cheeks, but she was game. Pretty? Me? You’ve got an hour and a half to quit saying things like that.

He chuckled. It’ll take me an hour and a half to get started. He winked. I’d offer to get you a drink but you beat me to it.

Sorry. I’ll let you get the next one.

Deal. He nodded at the bride and groom. They look stupid-happy, don’t they?

Yeah. They certainly seem stupid-happy. To keep things light, she asked, Can you believe this place? I didn’t know the theater had expanded so much. It’s been ages since I’ve been over here. In fact, she’d only been once. She and Harlan had fallen out not long afterward, and she hadn’t been back.

I don’t know much about it, but apparently it’s due to some deep pockets who contribute regularly and a prominent builder who donates his company’s services to make his actress wife happy.

Miguel Abonce. Vivi has done a number of shows for the theater.

You know them?

More or less. You don’t?

Not really. I don’t have any connection to the theater. I’m Jazz Washington, Rachel’s cousin.

I figured you had to be family. Harlan’s mentioned you to Tía Rosa. I don’t know Vivi, but I do know Miguel. We grew up together in the old neighborhood. She took a breath and smiled. I’m Carrie Burke. Harlan’s sister.

Carrie watched as Jazz’s smile faded and undisguised distaste took its place. Harlan’s sister. He said it like it was a bad taste in his mouth.

Fuckin’ great. Another one who went along with Rachel’s bullshit. One thing was for sure: Jazz shouldn’t ever play poker.

Her chin came up, and she forced herself to smile. She’d be damned if she’d react to his obvious derision. Yes. Harlan’s sister. My children are Nathan and Evie, Harlan’s niece and nephew. Delighted to meet you, she went on as if he hadn’t made clear his position on her and Harlan’s decisions. It’s nice to meet some of Rachel’s friends and family. She gave him a chance to speak, but no response was forthcoming. Okay, then. Time to end this little chit chat. Speaking of old friends, I’d better leave my corner and play catch-up with some of them. If you’ll excuse me?

Carrie walked off with her head held high.

She could feel his eyes on her as she left him standing there.

Chapter Two

Carrie

Judgmental asshole. Apparently, Rachel and/or Harlan had told Jazz of their falling out, casting her in the role of bad guy because she didn’t appreciate Harlan’s change of heart and hadn’t hesitated to say so. Or maybe Jazz disapproved of her actions all those years ago, back when Cole was alive. No telling what they’d said about the abuse she’d put up with. Rachel had made clear she thought it was Carrie’s fault Harlan had done what he did, and he’d been the one to pay such a high price while Carrie was free to live her life.

Free. Huh. She wished.

No one cared or knew about the times she’d doubted herself, or her decisions and regret at not getting out of the relationship sooner. The times she’d wept on the floor as the murky shadows of midnight played around the living room, wondering if she should have done something different.

Guilt is a rope that wears thin. Ayn Rand had known all about it when she said that. And Carrie’s rope was no spider web, strong and reliant. At best, it was a sticky strand of fucking near-invisible cotton candy.

She shook off her gloomy thoughts and plastered on a smile, determined to speak to at least some of her and Harlan’s old friends. But a number of them were less than friendly, and after the third coolish reception, she mentally told them all to fuck off and made herself a plate from the buffet table.

She guessed word had gotten around about her falling out with Harlan over Rachel. Like Jazz, they’d only heard one side of the story before concluding Carrie was the bad guy in this new scenario.

She bit into a jalapeño popper and let the heat explode inside her mouth. Hell, maybe she was in the wrong. Maybe she should agree with Rachel and Harlan for the sake of harmony and get back to normal.

Everyone had their opinions back then about her situation without knowing how it felt to be a victim of abuse. She’d been condemned for doing next to nothing to stop Cole from beating the shit out of her. She’d heard it a thousand times: she should’ve called the cops. She should’ve pressed charges. She should’ve gone to a shelter. She should’ve run away with the kids. All the should’ves, as if they knew how it felt, what it was like to live her life.

No one except Joe and Tía Rosa tried to understand or care that Cole had posed a serious danger to her children, and by tolerating his abuse, she’d kept her children safe. The last thing she’d wanted was him turning on them or seeking full custody and then tormenting them at will. Or hunting them down at every turn, to the point she’d never know who was watching her and her children. That was no kind of life for them.

She’d heard plenty of stories about women who’d called the cops and the guy was back home in a matter of days, way pissed off and more violent than ever. Like she wanted things to get worse. No effing way was she going to jeopardize the safety of her babies while living with a ticking bomb.

Back then, Harlan had begged her to do something, and long after the fact, Rachel sure as hell hadn’t understood. Nor had their old friends from the neighborhood. Some of them came out and said so after Harlan had taken matters into his own hands.

She swallowed the rest of the popper, savoring the delicious burn, then nibbled a beef slider. From the less-than-enthusiastic reception she’d received, it seemed their friends had once again passed judgment and found her lacking. Even though she knew what Harlan had done meant she owed him big-time, there was nothing she could do or say to sway other people’s opinions. And at this point in her life, she didn’t have the energy to give a shit one way or the other.

She’d been to counseling, ten years of it, and the counselor said it was time to quit letting others put her down and make her feel less than because of decisions she’d made years ago, rightly or wrongly. No one could know how she felt and how her fear for her children was her primary focus.

Carrie wasn’t about to let anyone, Harlan included, make her feel bad about herself anymore. The past was over. She’d put up with everyone, especially Cole, doing that to her for far too long.

If their old friends didn’t like the new Carrie, fuck ’em. And that went for anyone else who thought their opinion mattered, including Jazz Washington.

She polished off the plate of delicious appetizer and went in search of something non-alcoholic to wash them down. She’d given up on speaking to their old friends, but she needed to greet Tía Rosa and remind her about Joe.

Tía Rosa was in the corner, holding court with her posse of old ladies. Carrie hesitated, not sure if she was going to get the cold shoulder from them, but she needed to speak to Tía Rosa. If