A Family Homecoming (13 page)

Her gaze dropped to her lap. She studied the sofa where they had made love, then she looked at him again. Slowly, obviously unsure if this was the right thing, she nodded.

“If…if you think…”

“I do.”

Without giving her a chance to think it over, he closed the fire screen, then ushered her down the hall and into the room he'd claimed, the one that was meant to be the master suite, the one he intended to share with her from now on.

“It's cold in here,” she whispered in a laughing protest. She pulled the covers back and climbed into the bed. “Didn't you open the vents?”

“No, but I will.” He adjusted the vents so warm air would circulate into the room. “Next year I'll install a new duct system. And air conditioning. After I get the windows replaced and the insulation in.”

She pulled the covers up to her chin, her face thoughtful while he stripped from his sweats and climbed into bed. He reset the alarm and laid the remote control on the table he'd found in the attic.

“That's a lot of work,” she said after a lengthy pause.

“I'll be here,” he said. “I've decided to take the job in Whitehorn if it's offered.”

“Managing the field office?” She was skeptical. “It's all paperwork. You'll hate it.”

He pulled her into his arms, ravaged by her doubts. “You'll see,” he said quietly. “I promise. You'll see.”

She sighed and said no more, but he sensed the doubts that plagued her. He would change all that.

“I'm home, Dani,” he murmured. Peace stole over him like a leaf falling gently into his soul.

 

Danielle tried not to glance too frequently at Kyle as she prepared oatmeal and English muffins for breakfast. She blushed each time she met his eyes. Then he would smile in that maddening way men have when they've had great sex and everything is going their way.

Sara sat on the stool in her footed pajamas and looked from one to the other as if sensing something was different this morning.

“Here, drink your orange juice,” Danielle encouraged, setting the glass on the counter.

“Yes, ma'am,” Kyle said, lifting his glass obediently.

Sara laughed and followed suit.

Her back to him, Danielle smiled, too. In spite of her worries, there was an inner clamoring to laugh, too, or to shout or to do something equally silly. Like go over and kiss her husband until they both melted.

“I'll walk Sara to school,” he volunteered. “You stay inside. Are you going to work on the inventory today?”

“For most of the morning.” Her voice broke and dropped to a hoarse whisper on the last word.

Sara giggled again. “Mommy sounds like a frog.”

“Maybe she needs a prince to kiss her and turn her into a fairy princess,” Kyle suggested.

The next thing Danielle knew, she was in his arms, being soundly kissed. It didn't last long, but it was thorough. Sara giggled the whole time.

“Nope, it didn't work,” he said sadly. “She must not be a princess after all.”

“Maybe you're not the prince,” she retorted. The humor left his eyes instantly, and she was sorry for the remark.

“Maybe I'm not,” he said on a light note. “Or maybe this gal is the magic princess.” He blew raspberries against Sara's neck until her giggles drowned out the tension that had permeated the room.

Danielle poured the hot cereal into bowls and took them to the table, all the doubts about their future washing over her and depressing the foolish gaiety of the morning.

Later, after running a file merge between actual and supposed inventory, she saved the results and turned off the computer. She wandered through the house, sensing its emptiness as she went from room to room.

Coffee mug in hand, she sat on the sofa and let herself recall the events of the night. The hot, hot pleasure of their lovemaking. The wild ecstasy. The fulfillment.

And the need…the terrible, soul-wrenching need. Hers and his. Where would it lead them?

She stared out the window at the pine trees lining the drive. A man! Hiding in the trees!

Her heart raced like a runaway motor. The man moved, and she recognized him. It was Kyle.

Going to the window, she saw that he was removing the lower limbs on the trees up to head height. Then she realized why. It would be much harder to hide behind them and sneak up close to the house without the concealing lower branches. She sighed in relief.

Shortly before noon, he left in the truck and returned with Sara. They brought deli sandwiches, huge dill pickles and potato salad back with them.

“We're going to have a picnic,” Sara announced. She led the way into the family room.

Kyle built a fire while Sara arranged the afghan on the floor and handed out the sandwiches. “Peter said he would beat up any bad men who came to our school. If he had a gun like Off'cer Rawlings, he would shoot 'em.”

She was very pleased about this and had evidently put her faith into this new hero. Danielle smiled before biting into the hot meatball sandwich. Kyle had remembered her favorite. It's what she'd had their first meal together. That brought a warm, funny tingle to her heart.

“Guns are dangerous things,” Kyle told their daughter. “A person has to be trained to use them very carefully. Like Officer Rawlings.”

“Mommy has a gun.”

“I went to the police shooting range. Jenny's dad taught me how to use it,” Danielle quickly explained.

“Good.” Kyle's eyes met hers. “I want you to carry it when you go out.”

The old terror flooded through her. “Did you see anyone?” she asked, keeping her tone even.

Kyle shook his head. He'd seen an old pickup cruise the block a couple of times in the past few days. He'd seen it again on the road behind them yesterday. Nothing suspicious, but he'd had a gut feeling about it. He'd learned to go with his hunches in his years in undercover work.

He witnessed the fear return to Dani's eyes, but
otherwise she was calm and composed. Admiration grew in him. She had spunk, his woman. She hung in there when things got tough. It was a new facet, this leaner, meaner Dani.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked.

He grinned at her. “Remind me to tell you sometime. Maybe tonight.”

A blush hit her cheeks. His grin broadened. She wasn't sure what to think about their lovemaking. Last night had been like the first time all over again, except he hadn't had to be quite as careful of her virgin sensibilities as he had six years ago.

He drew a careful breath as his chest filled with emotions he couldn't name. The one thing he was sure of—if Dani took him back, he would never leave his family again, job or no job. They were the important thing. He hoped it wasn't too late….

Danielle lay on the sofa while Sara talked to her friend Jenny on the phone. Kyle was back outside. He had half the trees trimmed and was working hard to finish them all before dark. She idly mused on the work he was doing around the house.

The new windows had made a big difference in the family room. He planned to do the kitchen next, then the bedrooms. He'd said he would finish them all that summer.

If he was there in the summer.

The doubt assailed her like a lead weight dropped on her chest, which still ached with every breath. A person would be foolish to trust too much.

In college she'd trusted a classmate, then had found he was dating her in order to get answers to some tests. He'd thought she would cheat for him. Although
it hadn't been serious, being used had hurt. She'd learned to be cautious, which, she supposed, went with her quiet nature anyway.

With Kyle, everything had been different. She'd held back nothing, even though she'd known there was a part of him that was closed to her.

His work.

It had been the one off-limits subject. She had been so in love with him that she'd accepted his terms for their marriage without question. But when he'd disappeared for two years, she'd had to take a close look at her expectations of him, herself and their relationship.

She frowned and rubbed her aching temples. People changed. She'd been forced by circumstances to do so.

The question was the future. She would protect Sara with her life. Until this mess was over, Kyle would have to be part of their days. And their nights?

Shaking her head, she had to admit she didn't know. They would have to talk. He would have to commit to their future by giving his word to be there. Otherwise she didn't think she could take the uncertainty of never knowing when he would be gone and for how long.

There was a price for everything. That was hers for the future of their marriage.

Kyle knew at once that things had changed when he went in that night. He showered and changed into comfortable sweats before joining the girls in the kitchen. Danielle had all her defenses in place once more.

The pit of darkness shifted and roiled. Maybe he
had given up his rights to his family, but some stubborn part of him refused to accept that. He would have to tread carefully. He couldn't subdue Danielle in a show of force as if she were a criminal he was bringing down.

The fear that had haunted him for months and hit him full force when he'd read her letter concerning a divorce gnawed at him. In spite of last night he might not be able to bridge the chasm between them. But he had to try. He would use whatever he had—their passion, her generous heart, her concern, maybe even pity, for him.

And he was still Sara's father. That bond couldn't be severed. She would have to deal with him concerning their child. He would never give up his place in young Sara's life.

He watched Danielle move about the old-fashioned kitchen with that quiet, competent manner she had. His body stirred. He had this one advantage: together they created a fiery haven neither of them could resist. That and Sara were his strong suits. He'd play them for all they were worth.

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded and rose to help her place the spaghetti and hot garlic bread on the table. He caught the scent of her shampoo and sweet essence and inhaled deeply. Peace filled his soul. Dani and Sara were his and be damned to anyone who tried to hurt them!

B
y Friday, Danielle's cold was much better. The sore throat was gone, and she was left with only the sniffles. Her cold medicine took care of that.

Checking the calendar to make sure she didn't have any appointments she'd forgotten that weekend, she realized the first week of February had passed in a blink.

She had worked steadily on the library inventory all week and was ahead of schedule. She felt good about that. With one branch library and the book-mobile remaining, she would be done by the end of May at the latest. The summer would be free.

She paused and wondered what the rest of the year would hold. She had avoided thinking about the future all week.

Since Tuesday, she had shared Kyle's room. He
had made love to her in that tender, fierce way he had each night. It was as if they were newlyweds in some ways. In others, it wasn't. Sometimes she felt a part of her was missing….

Oddly, she wasn't sure if they were reconciled or not, or if he really was going to stay in Whitehorn.

She and Sara were. This was home now. She didn't plan on leaving. Not for a long time, if ever.

Hearing voices in the kitchen, she turned off the computer and stored the disks and file folders. Going into the other room, she found Shane McBride with Kyle.

“Hello,” she responded to Shane's greeting and put on a fresh pot of coffee. She heated up the cinnamon biscuits she kept on hand during the cold winter months.

The men looked serious, she noted as she took a seat at the table. Alarm speared through her.

“You said you wanted to see me?” Shane began, glancing at Kyle.

Kyle nodded. “I wanted to know what precaution the sheriff's department has in place regarding your wife, safety-wise.”

Shane's eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I've been thinking about Sara and why the men are after her. That brings me to Angela.”

Realization swept over Danielle. She laid a hand on his arm. “You think the men intend to kill both of them.”

“Yes.”

Shane's jaw looked as if it had been set in concrete. He muttered a curse. “No one is going to get to An
gela. I have men watching her and the house during the day when I'm not home.”

“Put them on twenty-four hours a day,” Kyle advised. “Tell them to be on their toes. I think things are coming to a head.”

“What makes you think so?” Shane asked, eyeing Kyle with a curious yet puzzled expression.

“First, there's a break in the weather and the roads are clear, so they'll be able to travel fast to get out of the area. Second, they need to get Sara out of the way. She's the only person who can identify them—”

“Other than Angela. She knows what Pierce looks like.”

“That's the third part of the equation. With Sara out of the way, that leaves only Angela. She has to tell them where the money is. Then they'll get rid of her. Or, if they decide she really doesn't know, they'll waste her and search the house for clues to the money. Either way, Angela loses.”

“And Sara,” Danielle said, the stark terror of December and the kidnapping making her heart race.

“Exactly,” Kyle agreed.

Shane glanced from one to the other. “Got any ideas?” he asked Kyle after a brief, assessing silence.

Kyle looked at Danielle. She sensed his reluctance to talk in front of her. She leveled a gaze at him and didn't look away. She could take whatever was to come, anything to protect their child. He nodded grimly.

“They'll have to make a move soon, before another storm heads in,” he said, returning to Shane. “They want to get out of Whitehorn. Each day they
hang around, it increases their chances of being caught in a snare.”

“You want increased surveillance here?”

“No. They're cruising the area. I think Pierce is smart enough to detect any cops hanging around disguised as telephone repairmen. They will have to make their move first. We'll have to be ready. Does your wife know how to handle a gun?”

“I don't think so.”

“You might take her to the police range and let her practice just in case it's a skill she'll need.”

“She's pregnant—”

“Do you think that will matter to Pierce?”

A dangerous fury flashed in Shane's eyes. “No.”

Danielle felt chills run over her scalp. They were such fierce warriors. Studying each of the men in turn, she recognized similar traits—a need to defend their homes, the will to protect their families, a determination that law and order would prevail.

But they weren't warriors all the time. Shane was all tenderness with Angela. And Kyle…

She recalled her husband's exquisitely gentle touches during the night. He'd kissed her a thousand times, a thousand different ways. And always there was that gentleness, even in the midst of the most explosive passion.

Their lovemaking was wonderful. She just didn't know what it meant to the rest of their lives.

She listened quietly while the other two discussed various scenarios for looking after their families. When Shane rose to leave, the men shook hands. Danielle saw the respect they had for each other. If Kyle stayed in the area, he would need a male friend,
and he and Shane were close in age as well as experience.

“Why don't you and Angela come over for dinner tonight?” she invited. “While the roads are clear.”

Shane smiled. “I'd like that. She's new here, you know, and doesn't know all that many people.” He laughed briefly, grimly. “I think some people are afraid she might be dangerous to be around.”

“The same as Sara,” Danielle remarked with more than a smidgen of irony in her tone.

Kyle laid an arm over her shoulders. His touch told her he was there for her and Sara. She felt comforted.

“I'll check with Angela to be sure, but I don't recall any other plans. I'll let you know if we can't make it.”

“Good. About seven then.”

He nodded. Kyle walked with him to the door and returned. He stopped behind her chair and rubbed her neck and shoulders.

“It'll be okay,” he murmured.

She sighed and leaned her head forward so he could massage all the achy muscles in her neck. “I want it to be over. I want Sara to be safe. I want…”

So many things. Once she'd thought all her dreams had come true. She'd met Kyle and life had been perfect. But now, the rosy tint had disappeared. Life was real. And it was harder than she'd ever imagined.

“My parents protected me from the world,” she said.

“Not on purpose. They were college math professors. They still live in an ivy-covered tower.”

Her folks, now retired from the Colorado University system, tutored part-time at a local community
college. She loved them totally, but she had to admit Kyle was right. They lived in their own world, one that she had been a loving part of during her growing years.

“Do they still write you those funny letters?” he asked.

“Yes.”

In the middle of telling her about some mundane happening in their lives, her parents, who jointly wrote her, would mention that they had found the most elegant little proof and would proceed to write it down. Or that so-and-so, a world famous mathematician who'd just won the Nobel prize or something, had dropped by and asked about her. If her parents had been disappointed in having a very ordinary daughter instead of a genius, they had never shown it in any way.

Kyle's youth had been very different from hers. She disliked his father, who was a grouchy, bitter old man who seemed to think life owed him something. She had always included him in her invitations for holiday meals, but he had never responded.

On a sympathetic impulse, she caught Kyle's hand and pressed kisses on the back of it.

“What was that for?” he asked, his smooth voice going deep and husky.

“For growing up to be a kind, caring, decent person.”

He dropped to his haunches beside her chair and gazed into her eyes. “Don't feel sorry for me. That isn't what I want from you.”

“What do you want?”

He frowned slightly as if the words were difficult
or he couldn't find the right ones. “You know,” he finally said. Rising he went to the door. “I'll go pick up Sara. Stay away from the windows. You have your gun?”

“In the drawer.”

“Wear it,” he advised, his expression grim.

After he left, she tucked the .38 into her waistband. His worry over her and Sara was touching, she had to admit. He was a man to depend on in tough times.

But what about the rest of their lives? Would he find days of following the same routine boring? Some people got addicted to the adrenaline kick of danger. Would he wish he could leave?

If he did, she knew he would be too honorable to say so. She couldn't bear it if he was miserable while he lived in her quiet world.

She sighed shakily. They would have to discuss this. But not now. Later, when life was normal again.

 

“I can't believe there was ever a million dollars,” Angela said, looking perplexed. “I mean, the business was bankrupt. I know. I had to pay off the creditors with what little I had. I sold everything that wasn't nailed down.”

They were in the family room. Kyle had built a fire, and they were having dessert and coffee in there. Sara was in bed for the night.

“I, uh, had a friend do some checking,” Kyle said. “He had an accountant go over the business accounts and compare the books to what the clients said they had paid. There was about a million missing.”

Danielle was surprised at his hesitation. She was pretty sure the friend was Luke Mason, his contact
with the FBI. They probably had access to records that Angela didn't.

“A million dollars,” Angela repeated skeptically. “I can't believe it. Where would Tom have put it?”

“Did he have a girlfriend?” Kyle asked, his tone gentle as he brought the subject up.

“One?” Angela laughed without humor. “Many.”

“Did the men in the parking lot use Tom's name when they demanded the money?” he continued.

Danielle glanced at Shane to see how he was taking Kyle's questioning of Angela. The lawman didn't appear offended, only deeply interested in the questions and the answers to them.

“Yes. I think so. Let me think.” Angela closed her eyes and concentrated. “They had me trapped against my car. I was struggling to break free of them. Only one man spoke at that time. He used a rough whisper, as if he were hoarse. He asked me where the money was. I told him I didn't know anything about it.”

“And then?” Kyle prodded.

“Well, that seemed to make him furious. He said he wanted the million dollars now and I'd better hand it over. I must have looked flabbergasted, which I was.”

“But did he use Tom's name, or did he say your husband or something to indicate it could be Tom?”

Angela stared thoughtfully at Kyle. Finally she shook her head. “I'm sorry. I can't remember.”

“Take your time,” Shane encouraged.

“It was so frightening. The men wore ski masks. I'd never been robbed before. Then I heard screaming and saw the girls staring at us across the parking lot. One of the men released me and started after them. I
tried to break free, but the other man, the one who had demanded the money, hit me.” She touched a spot on her scalp. “He had a gun.”

Kyle nodded grimly. “And then you passed out?”

“Yes. When I came to, the police were there. Jenny was crying. Lynn was holding her. The men were gone.”

“With Sara,” Kyle said grimly, “thinking she was their ticket to another million dollars.”

Danielle relaxed when Kyle sat back on the sofa and heaved a deep breath. “We were so lucky she got away,” she said to Angela. “She's talking again. Did Lynn tell you?”

“Yes. I was so relieved to hear it.”

“She's always been a chatterbox. Lynn and I would make a zip-your-lips motion to tell her she was talking too much. Today, when she came rambling on about her dog and what she was going to name it when she got one, I nearly motioned for her to zip it and then I realized what a contradiction that was to how I felt last week when she didn't speak.”

“I've often felt her being taken was my fault.”

“Not at all,” Danielle hastened to assure the other woman. “A person is responsible for his or her own actions. You couldn't possibly be blamed for what your former husband or those men did.”

“Some people aren't that understanding,” Shane remarked. “Some people in town think Angela knows something and isn't telling.”

“Oh, honestly.” Danielle dismissed the narrow-minded busybodies with a quick toss of her head.

“What are the kidnappers going to do next?” An
gela demanded. “It's so frustrating, this not knowing.”

Danielle stacked their used pie plates on a tray. “I know. Always being afraid each time you go outside. Being constantly alert for any strange sound. It's maddening.”

“Don't drop your vigil,” Shane said. “Willie, if he's in on this, might not be dangerous by himself, but the other guy is. He seems pretty ruthless.”

“Money,” Angela murmured. “A necessary evil.”

Shane tousled her hair, his touch loving. “It's not always evil. I seem to recall you were pretty free with it when picking out baby furniture the other day.”

That lightened the atmosphere. Angela's maternity top fluttered noticeably as the baby kicked. The four adults laughed.

“When is the baby due?” Danielle asked.

“In May. I can hardly wait. Shane has decided she's going to be a gymnast.”

He patted his wife's tummy. “My daughter is going to the Olympics.”

“He's going to adopt her,” Angela said, looking at her husband with her heart in her eyes.

Danielle's breath caught in her throat at the tenderness between the other couple. “I could use a ton of money myself,” she said, changing the subject. “This house is probably going to cost a fortune to renovate. But I fell in love with the site and the kitchen.”