Hot Zone (21 page)

Amelia patted his back. “We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to go all or nothing today. I’m here as long as you all need me.” A hint of panic slipped into Amelia’s tone.

Pure
panic slid through Lisabeth. Had her sister-in-law bonded with him?

Lisabeth looked up quickly at Aiden. Their peace, his acceptance of his role as a father, was still so fresh. Would he use this as an excuse to back out? His eyes were inscrutable behind the glasses as he studied his sister and the baby.

Who knew what he was thinking right now? Who knew what he would do?

Amelia pulled a wobbly smile. “When we were on the run, Joshua liked bananas and he especially enjoyed it when Hugh sang to him.”

Nodding once, Aiden scooped Joshua out of Amelia’s arms so confidently and quickly, the baby blinked in surprise.

Then his bottom lip started trembling and Aiden said quickly, “Would you like a banana? I’m sure there’s got to be a banana around this place somewhere.”

“’Nana? ’Nana, ’nana, ’nana…” Joshua chanted. His lip steadied for a minute, even if his little brow was still creased into deep furrows.

His wide dark eyes went to Amelia, who stood off to the side, her bandaged hand covering her mouth, unshed tears welling.

“Hey,” Aiden continued, “if you want a song, you’ll have to get that from this beautiful lady here, your mom.” He hitched Joshua on his hip like a seasoned parent. “Because I’m pretty much tone-deaf like my sister.” All that time spent with other children—his patients—over the years had obviously taught him more than a few tricks in handling a frightened, wary child.

Amelia smiled, her eyes watering as she turned to Lisabeth. “He’s really good with Joshua, don’t you think?”

Too choked up to speak, Lisabeth nodded tearily.

Aiden kept up a steady stream of conversation with their son, who was so mesmerized he dropped the handcuffs and reached for Aiden’s glasses. Seeing their two heads together, Aiden’s so fair and Joshua’s so dark, touched Lisabeth’s heart.

There was something more here than a doctor comforting a patient. She’d seen that often enough to know this went deeper. The image of them together clicked into place in her mind.

Father and son.

Parent and child.

And in that moment, Lisabeth fell in love with her husband all over again.

Hugh rode in the passenger seat of the military Humvee, the last in the line of four vehicles that had raided Jocelyn Pearson-Stewart’s property. The caravan churned up a cloud of dust as they made their way back to the military compound near the airfield.

The victory had been swift, but incomplete.

Jocelyn had escaped before they arrived. In fact, the whole compound had been deserted. However they’d managed to apprehend some refugees from the property. They’d hauled in Jocelyn’s “nieces”—Courtney and Erin—although it was clear now that they weren’t actually relatives. The two women and a number of other guards had been driving away in a caravan of vehicles with ten children.

Ten. Not eleven.

He hooked his arm out the open window while the Humvee driver coordinated his route with the truck ahead. Hugh barely registered what they were saying, his thoughts scattered as hell even as he kept his eyes on the dusty city in the distance. Had he miscounted the number of kids? He didn’t think so, but it was possible. His surveillance of the beach cottage had been late at night from a distance. He could have counted one baby twice.

But if he hadn’t?

That meant Jocelyn was out there somewhere with a vulnerable child at a time when lawlessness was rampant. There simply weren’t enough security forces available to search for her. They’d been lucky to shut down the home base of the smuggling operation.

He just hated loose ends. Hated that there was a chance justice might never be served for heaven only knew how many children had been shuttled through her illegal organization.

Now he needed to find Amelia and let her know what happened. And yeah,
he
needed to see her. To reassure himself that she and Joshua were safely with their family.

It had been scary as hell having her and the kid vulnerable on his watch. Yet it hadn’t flipped him out the way it would have a couple of years ago. He would never be whole, but then again, maybe he wasn’t walking the same tightrope he used to—a razor’s edge between himself and danger.

And he had Amelia to thank for that. She’d reminded him that he mattered and his efforts mattered. Whereas before, he’d been throwing himself into hellish situations as much to tempt fate as to save people. He wouldn’t rest easy until they were on an airplane to the States.

And then?

Would he contact her in the “real” world? Ask her out in a regular kind of way? It wasn’t as if she lived on the other side of the universe. Only a few hours apart.

The ground shook under his feet. Exhaustion or another aftershock? Just the Jeep stuttering along a rippled stretch of land leading to the airstrip. He was supposed to meet McCabe here—which was code for the major figuring out if he could trust Hugh back in the field.

The line of vehicles stopped one after the other. The temporary base that had been set up shortly after the earthquake had grown since he’d seen it last—more tents, portable hangars, more parked aircraft, and definitely more personnel. The suspects and children would be held here until local authorities sorted through the kidnapping mess.

At least this place was on the outskirts of the devastation, a tent city of sorts constructed on open land. Uprooted trees and buckled earth were the only signs of the recent earthquake.

He vaulted out of the Humvee, scanning for McCabe—but looking for Amelia. She and Joshua had been brought here to reunite with her brother and sister-in-law.

Amelia was
here
.

His pulse ramped at just the thought of seeing her. God, he was turning into a sap. He was even pumped about seeing the kid—

Except the child would be with his parents now. As life should be. Still, his feet slowed and he wasn’t sure why. He should be relieved to have Amelia to himself, to talk to her, to figure out where they would take things next.

The ground vibrated under his feet. Aftershock or airplane taking off? He scanned the dirt runway, already moving to the most open space, away from anything that could collapse on top of him. And where the hell was Amelia?

Shit.

It had to be an aftershock. He hoped. Because the alternative sucked.

The ground steadied. He waited. Still steady. Exhaling, he shrugged a kink out of his neck just as McCabe stepped from around a tent. The major stalled in his tracks. He grabbed the tent pole, paling.

Hugh strode toward him. “You okay, sir?”

“Yeah…” He straightened slowly, his camos crusty and his eyes red rimmed, no doubt from round-the-clock shifts. “Just damn glad to see you alive.”

McCabe hauled him in for a hug, thumping him between the shoulder blades, and Hugh had to admit he was choked up too.

“There were times it was touch-and-go.” He pulled away, but wasn’t in any hurry to be under shelter. The wide-open spaces looked better and safer all the time. “This place has turned into such a lawless mess since the quake.”

“And every time the earth starts shaking again—like a few seconds ago—people go a little batty.”

“Understandable.” Hugh thought back to that time underground with Amelia, how she’d held it together in spite of how often it had seemed the building would collapse the rest of the way on top of her.

“Last report puts the count at seventeen aftershocks since the original earthquake, with more undoubtedly to come.” Squinting into the sun, McCabe stared out toward the ocean. “At least they canceled the tsunami warning.”

“There was one?”

McCabe looked over his shoulder at him, grinning. “Sometimes being out of touch can be a blessing, my friend.”

“That it can.” Hugh stepped alongside him and they stood together quietly. Hugh took in the still earth, the flow of business moving at a steady clip. Not dragging, but not too hurried either.

McCabe finally turned to him again. “Take twelve hours, check in with a doc, and then you’re going to report in for duty.”

“I can report up now.”

“No offense, but you’re not known for understanding human limitations. Take twelve hours. I’ve got half our guys out there now.” McCabe was a lighthearted dude—except when he wasn’t. And right now, he was wearing the no-bullshit expression. “You can join the rest when we rotate.”

“Yes, sir.” He knew an order when he heard one.

McCabe clapped him on the back once more before starting toward his Humvee. He called over his shoulder. “Just in case you were wondering, the lady you saved ran into that storage tent about ten minutes ago. She looked pretty upset.”

Hugh snapped to attention, his focus zipping over to the supply tent, drab gray and so densely packed with pallets he couldn’t see inside. He thought about her inside alone, and given the family reunion she’d just had, he could too easily figure out what must have happened. She’d passed over her nephew to his parents.

A baby she’d grown attached to this week. How could she not, after all they’d been through? She’d been ready to die for that child. Had fought to stay alive for him after the earthquake, making sure Hugh never forgot the boy was there, insisting he was alive when anyone else would have given up. Joshua owed her his life.

And again she’d given him a chance at a bright future in handing him over to his parents.

Hell, even thinking about not seeing the kid’s six-toothed smile brought a lump to Hugh’s throat. It wasn’t as if he’d expected to keep Joshua. But the way Amelia had been chipping through emotional walls, getting him to dig around in his past, brought everything roaring painfully to the surface.

Shining through it all? Amelia, with her grit and her strength.

He didn’t even have to think of what to do next.

His feet were already moving fast to find her.

***

Amelia sat with her back against a huge wooden crate of supplies resting on top of a pallet. The far corner of the tent was dark and private, the perfect place for sobbing her ungrateful heart out.

Hugging her knees, she rocked, her face pressed into her legs to muffle her cries. She should be thankful to be alive, to have come through everything with Joshua alive. Major McCabe had even given her a personal update to let her know the raid on Jocelyn’s place had been a success. Not even a shot fired. Hugh was fine.

And her heart was shattering over relinquishing a child that had never even been hers in the first place.

The sound of footsteps startled her. She reached for her gun—only to realize she didn’t have it anymore. It had been taken from her when they returned. She shot to her feet, nerves stirring in her stomach. How could she have forgotten already what a dangerous place this was?

“Amelia?”

The sound of Hugh’s deep bass rumbled through the tent, and she sagged against the crate with relief. She just barely caught herself from sliding down to the ground again. Only pride kept her upright.

“Over here,” she called, scrubbing her wrist under her nose. Her eyes were probably swollen and her nose red, but Hugh had definitely seen her looking worse.

She heard his steps come closer as he walked through the maze of crates and pallets, finally reaching her shadowy, private corner.

Leaning a shoulder against the wooden crate, he studied her so long she resisted the urge to swipe her nose again.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” she answered honestly. “But I will be.”

He stroked her ponytail until it draped over her shoulder and somehow that light pressure was like a soothing massage to her achy head.

“Amelia, I am so sorry.”

“For what?” She didn’t move, just enjoyed the feel of his fingers lifting lock after lock, stroking, lightly tugging.

“I know that had to have been tough for you, passing Joshua over to his parents.”

God, she felt selfish. Hugh would never see his daughter again and here she was, weeping like someone had died. “It’s not like I won’t ever get to visit him. He’s my nephew.”

“True enough.” His fingers thrust deeper through the strands, against her scalp, freeing the confining ponytail and rubbing as he’d done when he’d washed her hair. “You were a mama bear for him these past few days.”

The warmth of his hand, the breadth of his chest, and insightfulness of his words calmed her as much as his touch.

“I had no choice, Hugh. He needed me.”

“You were—you
are
—amazing.” His forehead fell to rest against hers.

Her hands fell to rest on his chest, his heartbeat thumping against her palm. “I’m just so glad those other children are safe now, thanks to you.”

He’d returned to that Hotel Californiaesque hell knowingly, to help save those children. As she thought of what could have happened to him, the tears started flowing all over again.

“Oh God, Amelia, honey, it’s going to be okay now.” He pulled her against his chest, arms locking her in tight. “Everybody’s all right.”

“I know.” Although he would be staying here and she was leaving. What if something happened to him? Now, or on another mission? Life-and-death situations felt so much more real to her now. “I’m losing it here. I know that, but I can’t seem to stop the tears.”

“It’s the adrenaline letdown.” He shushed against her hair. “You don’t have to be strong anymore. Everything you held in before is coming up now.”

“Everything is just so”—she hiccupped—“so very quiet.”

“It’ll feel that way for a while.”

She rubbed her cheek against the warm cotton of his shirt, breathing in the musky scent of him, so familiar now. “Do you go through this after every mission?”

He paused for a second before admitting, “This one was definitely more… intense.”

It had to have been a nightmare for him, holding a baby that wasn’t his own, but whom he felt responsible for nevertheless. Hugh had been so good with Joshua. He’d rescued them both in so many ways.

“Was it tough for you, too, letting go of Joshua?” Of course it had to be. She felt selfish for her tears and taking comfort from him after all he had been through keeping them safe.

“He’s where he’s supposed to be.”

She tipped her face up to his. “I don’t mean to sound snarky here, but do those kinds of platitudes actually work for you when you’re upset?”

He laughed dryly. “Not really.”

“They’re not doing it for me either.” She smiled back.

And how strange was that, to finally find comfort in their shared sadness? And of course the way he held her went a long way toward easing the knot of grief in her chest.

And as the pressure eased, she became more aware of the world around her, the crisp scent of the wooden crates. Her ears filled with the roar and vibration of airplanes taking off and landing, the cacophony of engines so loud it blocked most other noises. Most of all, she noticed their total privacy, which gave her a moment to view Hugh in all his protector glory. So strong, with such capable hands.

Another kind of tension altogether coiled inside her. Her fingers clenched in his T-shirt and she felt his heart speed up under her fist. A flush spread out over her skin, a burning tingle that only increased as she felt him harden against her stomach.

And just as quickly as the tears had come upon her, passion flooded through her, her emotions already volatile, ready to ignite.

She nipped his collarbone lightly, then harder. “How about we stop talking?”

“I think that’s the way to go,” he growled against her ear.

“It must be the supply tent. What is there about storage facilities that bring out the animal in me lately?” She tore at the buttons on his pants.

“Could be the deprivation of basic life staples in the earthquake has made you crave the surroundings of a well-stocked pantry. It could be a lifelong turn-on.” He inched down her zipper.

Their laughter filled the sliver of space between them as he skimmed off her pants and she freed his erection.

“Condom?” she gasped, her body shouting in protest that this might have to end before it started. “Do you have one? Where’s your vest?”

“I’ve been carrying around condoms since our time in that supply closet.”

Confusion nipped at the edges of her desire. “You didn’t mention it before, after the shower.”

“My vest was closer.”