The Call of Bravery

CHAPTER FOUR



HE DIDN’T SAY anything until he reached the foot of the steps. She could see him better than he could probably see her, as light shining through the living room window fell on his face as he stopped.

His voice was deep and quiet. “Enjoying some peace and quiet?”

“Something like that. I actually came out to feed the horses.”

“Kids okay?”

She liked that he asked, but didn’t trust him. “All asleep except Sorrel.”

His shoulders moved slightly. “Teenagers tend to be night owls.”

“She’s only thirteen.”

“She looks older,” he said thoughtfully.

“She, um, acts older than that in some ways. Younger in others.”

“Is that a warning?”

Lia frowned. “I suppose it is. She’s rather drawn to men.”

“Ah.”

She hesitated, unsure whether to say more. Sorrel was in counseling. Lia didn’t like exposing her kids’ problems to anyone unnecessarily. Surely neither of the two men, federal agents, would behave inappropriately toward a thirteen-year-old girl.

After a moment, she said, “What I really wanted to talk to you about is the boys.”

Hearing how aggressively that had come out, she winced. His expression had been reserved; now it closed completely. Bang. All access denied. She’d blown it.

“I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it to. The thing is, they’re…vulnerable.”

“And I should have kept my mouth shut at dinnertime.” His tone was resigned. “Understood.”

“No.” She bent her head and bumped it on her crossed arms, then lifted it again. “It’s not that at all. Everything you said was…right. They opened up to you.”

He stared at her. She imagined he’d tensed, but couldn’t be sure. He was very, very good at hiding what he was thinking.

“Okay,” he said slowly.

“I don’t want you being nice to them if you don’t mean it.” She’d gone from belligerent to fierce and didn’t regret it. “If you keep being nice, they’re going to—” She had to swallow, and still her voice came out small and cracked. “Depend on you.”

“And I won’t be around for long.”

“It’s not that,” she said again. “I won’t be a permanent part of their lives, either.” Why did saying that out loud make her feel as if her heart was breaking in two? Kids came, kids left. That’s what she did. “They know you’re only here for a while. What would be bad is if you talk to them, spend time with them, and then blow them off.”

“I see.” He paused. “Let me think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” She hugged her knees harder. “Was what you told them true? About your parents and your brother?”

Still he didn’t move, his expression didn’t change. His eyes were too shadowed in the limited light for her to read them, assuming she could have.

“Yes.”

Lia nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, but sorry isn’t necessary. I haven’t been a kid in a long time.”

She wondered if he’d ever been a kid after his mom walked out. Or was he even before that? His couldn’t exactly have been an ideal family.

“Even so.”

“All right.” He finally put a foot on the first step. “You planning to stay out here long?”

“Maybe a few more minutes.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?”

Her pulse stuttered. “No, of course not.”

He settled at the top of the steps a few feet away, leaning against the post opposite hers. He stretched out his long legs, looking relaxed and comfortable. For some odd reason, Lia had a suspicion he was neither.

“Having us here must be a pain.”

“An inconvenience,” she corrected.

His mouth twitched. “Is that all?”

“A worry.”

His gaze suddenly felt more intense. “Why?”

Because I’m doing something illegal and I’m afraid you’ll notice? “Because I have to think about your influence on the kids, of course. Sorrel and the boys all have big problems. I know I can’t shield them completely, but I try.”

“So I’ve noticed.” He sounded amused. “The glare you gave me at dinner was a clue. Why wasn’t I supposed to criticize the movie?”

“Their mom gave them the DVDs. They’ve been watching them over and over.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” He thought about it. “There are worse movies they could be clinging to.”

“Bambi?”

He grunted; maybe laughed. “Yeah, that one would suck.”

They sat in silence for a minute or two, Lia gazing out into the darkness, Conall—she thought—still looking at her. The sounds of the night were quiet, familiar: the soft, distant hoot of an owl, a whicker from one of the horses, the rustle of grass. None of it felt peaceful, not with him here. Not knowing why he was here.

Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer and started talking. “I take it you grew up locally. Are you glad to be home?”

“No.” For the first time, that deep, husky voice sounded harsh.

Startled, Lia turned her head. “Your memories are that bad?”

“Yes.”

Okay. She groped for a response and came up with nothing better than another, “I’m sorry.”

For the first time, he reacted visibly. Not much, only shifting, but the movement was jerky for a man who customarily moved with the lithe ease of a hunting cat.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” He inhaled; let it out audibly. “Oh, hell. There’s nothing secret about it. Being back here has unsettled me, that’s all.”

“You went to see your brother, didn’t you? Did something happen that bothered you?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

He laughed, but the sound wasn’t pleasant. “I haven’t seen Duncan since I graduated from college, and that was a long time ago. I never intended to set eyes on him again. It’s my luck that I got stuck with this operation, and that Duncan is the police chief.”

“Never see him again?” She was hung up on that part. “But…you said he raised you. You made it sound like a good thing.”

“It was a good thing. He was noble.” Bitterness roughened his voice now. “You don’t have to tell me. Duncan MacLachlan always does the right thing, whatever the sacrifice he has to make. He saved my ass. I know that.” He was breathing hard. “Oh, hell,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have gotten started.”

“I don’t mind listening if you want to talk.”

He was quiet so long she thought he would rise to his feet any moment and say good-night. And really, why would he talk to her? They were strangers.

But Conall shocked her by speaking after a minute. “He did save me. I’m not kidding about that. I wasn’t like Brendan and Walker. I wasn’t a good kid who could have gone to a foster home like yours. Nobody would have wanted me. I cut classes, smoked pot, got drunk, was in constant fights. I stole a car before my twelfth birthday.”

Shocked, she was the one to stare now.

“I guess you could say I was acting out.” He laughed again. This time he almost managed to sound amused. “My middle brother, Niall, wasn’t much better. I guess Mom ditched us for a good reason.”

“No,” Lia whispered. The single word held so much fury, it burned her throat. “No. What she did is awful.”

He leaned his head against the post, and she saw his eyes close for a moment. “Yeah. You’re right. It was.”

Lia was beginning to feel cramped, but she couldn’t make herself stretch out her legs. She needed to stay…contained, to hold herself tightly together. Stupid, but she couldn’t make herself move.

“My point was that neither Niall nor I rallied willingly behind big brother.” Conall’s voice came out low now. “Oh, we were good as gold at first. For a couple of months.”

“Scared.”

“Oh, yeah. After that, we…challenged him.” Strangely, Conall was smiling now. “He figured the only way he could get us to toe the line was to scare the shit out of us. So he did.”

She stiffened in outrage. “How…?”

“Doesn’t matter. He didn’t hurt us, if that’s what you’re asking. But you have to understand, neither of our parents had ever bothered being authority figures. All of a sudden Duncan, who was supposed to be one of us, our brother and buddy, became this…” He paused and she knew what word he was about to say. “This tyrant. I didn’t take it well.”

“What about your brother?”

“He wasn’t so happy about it, either, not at first. What I never understood was that instead of rejecting big brother the despot the way I did, he gradually went over to the dark side.” Another laugh. “Or maybe it was the glorious and good side, I’m not sure. The two of them became friends again. They stood up for each other at their weddings. Niall’s a cop, too. I said that, didn’t I? But him, he followed in Duncan’s footsteps.”

“Didn’t you?”

His head clunked a couple of times against the post. “Not long ago I’d have said ‘hell no’ to that, too. Now…” He shrugged. “Truth is, I don’t know. I’m not exactly in the same line of work as they are.”

Which was splitting hairs, but she suspected he knew that.

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“I can understand that.” She knew why she did what she did, but didn’t like to dwell on the past, either.

They sat in a considerably more peaceful silence for a bit. Finally he asked, “What about you, Lia Woods? Did you grow up around here?”

“Down in the Kent Valley. My parents have moved recently to Arizona. I ended up here because my great-aunt on my dad’s side didn’t have any kids and left me her house when she died. I could have sold it and gone on with my life, but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to do something I’d always wanted to and take in kids.”

“You don’t hold an outside job?”

She shook her head and felt her braid bump on her back. “Not anymore. Some foster parents do, of course, but I tend to take the really troubled kids. Or ones like Walker and Brendan who need some special attention. While their mother was in the hospital, we spent as much time there as we were allowed. A nine-to-five job wouldn’t have been compatible with what they needed from me.”

“What’s next for them?”

That question surprised her. She’d expected something along the lines of Why foster?

“They’ll go up for adoption. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, their chances aren’t great. They’d be better if they get split up, but…God. I can’t imagine. They need each other.”

With quiet force, he said, “It would be an abomination to tear them apart.”

She swallowed emotion trying to spill out. “Yes. It’s not in my hands, although I’ll express myself forcefully if anyone suggests they be separated. I may never know, though. Usually I foster fairly short term. They might get sent elsewhere. It’s possible they’d thrive in a more typical family situation, or that their caseworker will decide they need a father figure. I tend to get more girls than boys.”

“Will they survive one more change?”

“I don’t know,” Lia whispered. “They’re…withdrawing.” It took her a few deep breaths to calm herself. “You got further with them tonight at dinner than I ever do. So maybe they do need a father figure.”

“But from what you said, they only had a mother. Why would they relate to a man?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

He frowned but didn’t move. He’d be a heck of a poker player, she found herself thinking. No tells. Did he ever fidget?

“I won’t have a lot of time,” he said abruptly. “I can’t make promises.”

Promises?

“But when I have a minute, I’ll try to talk to them.” The lines on his face deepened, or perhaps it was a trick of the light. No, not of the light; the dark. “They remind me of myself. They’re…trying to quit feeling anything at all.”

Dear God, Lia thought. Had this man succeeded? The idea appalled her, but in the next second she realized, no. No, of course he hadn’t, or they wouldn’t be having this conversation. He wouldn’t have spent however many years he had running away from home. He wouldn’t worry about two little boys he’d barely met. He was a federal agent, he might be a threat to her, but Lia suddenly knew with absolute certainty that he was also a good man.

His brother might have dealt him wounds that still ached when he moved wrong, but Duncan had truly saved an angry boy and helped him become this man.

She’d seen Duncan’s picture in the newspaper and thought he looked cold and unlikeable. How wrong could she possibly have been?

“Yes,” she said on a sigh, “I think that’s exactly what they’re trying to do.”

Conall rose to his feet, a smooth motion. “I’d better go relieve Jeff.” He held out a hand. “Ready to go in?”

She gazed warily at his hand for longer than was probably polite. Touching him might be…risky. Still, she reached out and let his hand close around hers.

And knew immediately that she’d been right.

His warm clasp felt better than just about anything she could remember. Strong, safe…and yet not safe. She lifted an astonished stare to his, to see…something on his face. Something fleeting, but she thought it might be surprise.

So he felt it, too.

With a gentle tug, he boosted her to her feet. They ended up no more than a foot apart. Her breath caught in her throat. Neither of them moved. He didn’t release her. She wanted, quite desperately, for him to pull her closer, until her body bumped up against his. She wanted him to kiss her.

And she knew letting that happen would be stupid. He was only here for a little while, and she suffered enough every time a child left her. She couldn’t bear anything else temporary in her life. He could hurt her if she let him.

So I won’t.

She eased her hand free and said, “Good night, Conall.” Lia was proud of how firm she sounded. How unaffected.

Proud, that is, until he said, “Good night,” and sounded so utterly indifferent, she knew without question that she’d imagined any chemistry between them.

Grateful she hadn’t given herself away, she preceded him into the house. By the time she turned the dead bolt, he was already halfway up the stairs.

* * *

CONALL HEARD THE SOUND of a vehicle engine first. Noise traveled well at night in the country. There wasn’t much traffic out here at—he pressed a button to illuminate the numbers on his watch—3:18 in the morning. Conall guessed he was hearing a pickup truck, maybe diesel; the roar was too deep for a car. From this window he couldn’t see the gravel road, but he expected to see some suggestion of headlights through the woods. Nothing.

Not another neighbor coming home late, though; this truck or SUV had passed the other driveways, then Lia’s. The Dobermans began to bark and raced to meet the… Yeah, a dark colored pickup with a black canopy. Using night vision, he watched the vehicle roll to a stop in front of that triple car garage. No headlights.

“About time,” he murmured. Somebody had come calling.

And was expected. One of the garage doors rolled up. A light was on somewhere inside, probably a single bulb. Two men came out, one of them speaking sharply to the dogs who both dropped to their bellies. Passenger and driver’s-side doors opened and the two newcomers got out. They went around to the back and opened the canopy on the pickup. After some conversation, all four began unloading…something.

Conall felt a chill. The wooden crates they carried in didn’t look as if they contained drug manufacturing paraphernalia and seemed unnecessarily large and sturdy to hold packets of cocaine or heroin ready for distribution. He had a really bad feeling about this. Those crates looked to him as if they held guns. Big guns, and a hell of a lot of them.

He rubbed his burning eyes briefly, and resumed watching. Faces weren’t real distinct, but he was letting footage roll so he could watch it again and try to zoom in on the scene: on the faces and in search of any marks on the wooden crates.

One of the men looked familiar. Conall couldn’t swear to it, but a couple of times… The way the guy turned his head, gesticulated, hunched his shoulders like a bull ready to charge… “Goddamn,” he said under his breath. “I’ve seen him before.”

It would come to him. It always did. He had a near-photographic memory, another of his strengths. He could almost always get the girl, he rarely forgot a face and he was an icy-cold son of a bitch, which meant fear had no hold on him. He took risks the agents with families waiting at home wouldn’t.

Images of Lia whispered through his mind. The woman who seemed to have a bottomless heart. He and she were polar opposites. She cared, he didn’t.

He had to keep his distance. Conall did try not to hurt women. He steered clear of the home and hearth kind. She wasn’t quite that, though; he wasn’t sure he’d ever encountered a woman exactly like her, willing to give endlessly of herself to other people’s children. At the table tonight, he kept watching her thinking, What’s in it for you? He still didn’t know. Money? The state did pay her to care for each kid, but was it only a job for her?

Focus, he snarled at himself. The men all disappeared inside the garage. The dogs stayed where they were. Half an hour passed, one breath at a time. Conall waited with the patience of any hunter.

Behind him Jeff let out a couple of snorting breaths and then covers rustled as he rolled over in bed. They had no damn privacy up here at all. Conall for one was looking forward to the day little Julia and Arturo went away and freed up the bedroom. Conall didn’t sleep well when he wasn’t alone. He rarely stayed the night with women.

This time it was Lia’s bed that slipped unbidden into his mind. A couple of times her bedroom door had been open when he passed in the hall. He hadn’t been able to help looking. The room wasn’t any fancier than the rest of the house, but it unmistakably belonged to a woman. To Lia. She wore bright colors, and she decorated with them, too. He hadn’t seen any lace, but the duvet cover was a print of bright red poppies and green leaves against a white background. Puffy white and red pillows were heaped against a white-painted iron bedstead. Men never bothered with non-utilitarian pillows. That was a woman thing. The hardwood floor beside the bed was softened by a flower-shaped rug in the same poppy red. It was made out of torn strips of some soft fabric and he bet he’d sink ankle-deep in it.

He wanted to sink ankle deep in it while he was on the way to her bed, where she sprawled waiting for him. His body tingled as he imagined it. Her hair was loose…no, he wanted to take it out of the braid himself, comb out the curls with his fingers. Those glorious green-brown eyes were sultry…

He jerked and then swore when someone walked out of the garage. Two men. The dogs leaped to their feet but stayed silent. The two men got in the pickup, the garage door came down and a moment later he heard the muted roar of the engine. They drove away, still without turning on their headlights.

Conall hadn’t seen any sign the visitors had brought groceries or dog food. No packages of toilet paper. Sooner or later whoever was staying in the house would have to go out. Lia had said she’d seen them come and go. She said she’d waved at first but quit bothering when they ignored her. Idiots. That’s not how you went unnoticed in small-town or rural America.

After a couple of minutes, the dogs rose and trotted off, one around the house, the other loping along the fence line. Both wore thick collars and avoided the perimeter of the property, which likely meant they got shocked when they went too close. At least Lia could relax about her ancient horse and butterball pony.

Conall yanked at his hair. Why the hell couldn’t he keep her out of his head? He’d been here three and a half days, spent less than two hours in her company, and she was already a big-time distraction.

This wasn’t like him. He should be speculating on where he’d seen the one familiar face before. He’d encountered gun runners before, if that’s what these men were. He should be trying to figure out how to get into that garage. He should be thinking about anything but the home-owner who so happened to be a beautiful woman.

Who loved children. Who’d rip his heart out and fry it for breakfast if he did one single thing to hurt the children she guarded so fiercely.

Not his kind of woman.

It was…unfortunate that he had the hots for her. He gave a soft grunt. No, it was worse than that. She drew him in an unfamiliar way. From first sight on. Now that he knew her a little better, it was even worse. The way she’d said, I’m sorry. Sitting here alone but for a few snores on the other side of the attic, he could hear her voice, soft but tangible as a touch. People didn’t always mean it when they said that, but she had. She’d felt something genuine for him.

And that scared the crap out of stone-cold Conall MacLachlan. He was trapped, living in a house with a gorgeous woman who cared like no one else he’d ever met, a woman he had wanted the moment he saw her.

People were rarely what they seemed, though; he knew that. Lia Woods wouldn’t be. She had to be a fake. Maybe decent to the kids, but doing it because she saw fostering as an easy way to pay the bills. He’d catch her saying something cutting to one of them when she thought no one else was listening, and he would be cured of this uneasy fear that he’d found… What? The perfect woman?

Not for him. His perfect woman enjoyed hot sex when he happened to be in town and didn’t ask when she’d see him again.

Forget Lia. Think about the fun in store for him: a family reunion. All three MacLachlan boys, two accompanied by wives and children.

Now, there was a nightmare.