Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone (30 page)

Inca lifted her head and smiled at Dane. “I am glad you came.”

“Thanks, Inca. I’m glad to be a part of this, too.” And he was. Inca’s eyes were warm with emotion. Her hair was damp, the dark strands falling nearly to her waist. Wearing a loose white shift, one shoulder pulled down, she held her daughter gently against her as she suckled noisily and strongly at her breast.

Alaria laughed. “Kayla and Michael have their family here, now.”

Roan took his son into his arms while Kayla fed. Michael Storm Walker had black hair and his father’s deep blue eyes.

Tears welled up in Maya’s eyes as she sat back on her heels and met Inca’s willow-green gaze. Reaching out, she slid her hand against her twin’s cheek. “Family. You hear that? We’re family. Isn’t this wonderful, Inca? Finally, we’ve come full circle. We lost our parents. We lost our way, we thought. But we didn’t. Not really. All along, there was a larger, hidden plan for
us. But we didn’t know it at the time. All we could do was trust and carry on.” Tears glimmered in her eyes, and she saw Inca’s own lips tremble. “And look at the outcome….”

Sniffing, Inca whispered, “I know…I cannot believe it, Maya. Everything in our lives is so good right now. We passed through our own dark tunnel. We passed the tests that were thrown at us.” Inca gazed down lovingly at her daughter. A bead of breast milk formed at the corner of her tiny bud-shaped mouth. Roan leaned over and gently removed it with his finger. She smiled into her husband’s face and they held one another’s gaze for a long time. Then Inca reached out and tenderly touched her son’s flushed cheek as he slept in her husband’s massive arms.

Maya sniffed and dug into the pocket of her pants. She withdrew a bright red pouch and carefully opened it while Inca watched. “I think,” Maya murmured as she pulled out a necklace with Peruvian blue opals and cougar claws on it, “that this necklace Roan gave to you, and you gave to me, should return to the twins here? You could have it refashioned into two medicine pieces. One for each?”

Smiling softly, Inca took the necklace into her hands. “That is a wonderful gift,” she exclaimed. Carefully she draped the necklace, which was much too large for the babies to wear yet, across her pink alpaca blanket. The blue-green gems seemed to glow.

Inca looked up at Roan. “Does this feel right to you? To pass this necklace from your family to your son and daughter?”

Roan gave Maya a grateful look. “Yes,” he murmured, “it’s a wonderful gift back to us all. Thank you, Maya.”

“Hey, your medicine necklace helped save my tail,” she told them, grinning. “I figured I’d used up one of its nine lives in the process, and your children should enjoy the protection of it now.” Patting Inca’s hand, she said, “I feel good that it’s going home, with you. It belongs in your part of the family tree.”

Gripping her hand, Inca whispered, “Thank you….”

Maya leaned forward and kissed her damp cheek. Then, sniffing, she turned. She held out her hand toward Dane. “Come here, trade places with me. You’ve got to see Kayla. She’s so beautiful!” And she pushed herself to her feet.

Dane gave her an unsure look. “Hey, I’m not exactly a parent type,” he said as he slowly knelt down beside Inca.

“You do not have to be to look at a baby or touch her tiny hand.”

Giving Inca a nervous smile, Dane turned his attention to the first newborn. Soon he was mesmerized by the baby’s little hand, waving energetically from side to side as she noisily fed. “Her fingers are so perfectly formed,” he said in a low tone. “It’s just amazing, isn’t it?” He reached out, and the moment his finger made contact with Kayla’s hand, her tiny fingers wrapped strongly around his. “Oh,” Dane exclaimed, “she’s strong!” And then Roan transferred his son carefully to Dane’s awaiting arms. He handled the precious cargo carefully. The babies looked similar, and yet each had slightly different features. Dane rocked the baby gently and grinned uneasily. They laughed. Roan patted him on the shoulder to reassure him that he was doing just fine.

Maya stood back, all smiles. Grandmother Alaria had tucked her hands into the long sleeves of her robe
and was standing there, her face serene and pleased. Looking around at Inca, with her dark hair loose and shining; Roan in his short-sleeved, plaid shirt and jeans; and Dane, who seemed hypnotized by little Michael, Maya realized there were no dry eyes in the birthing room. A baby broke down barriers in everyone, she thought, warmth flowing through her heart as it throbbed with joy.

There was a movement at the door, and Maya turned. She saw Mike Houston, dressed in a white, long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up, tan chinos and hiking boots. He was smiling as he placed his hands on the doorjamb and looked in at all of them. Maya heard Inca cry out his name, saw her lift her hand toward him. Mike nodded to Maya and then to Alaria.

“Hi, gang,” he called. “Hey, I hear a little girl and boy were just born.”

Dane got up and moved to Maya’s side as Mike came over. He shook Dane’s hand and then Roan’s. Then he lowered himself to his knees, at Inca’s side. “Come here, Little Sister,” he said, calling her the endearment he’d given her ever since they’d been bound by blood in a ceremony long ago. “Let me hold you….” And he placed his arm around her and gave her a long, gentle embrace. Inca sobbed and slid her arm across Mike’s massive shoulders as he hugged her.

“Mike!” she wept. “I am so glad you could come! I wanted you here, to be with us….”

“Hey, what’s this?” Mike laughed as he pressed a kiss to Inca’s hair. “Tears? You should be jumping up and down for joy. Look at what you did. She’s pretty, Inca. Just beautiful. You did good, girl.”

Self-consciously wiping the tears from her eyes, Inca
smiled bravely up at Mike. “Even now you joke and tease me.”

Chuckling, Mike ran his hand lovingly across Inca’s head. He gave Roan a wink. “Hey, I’m just built that way, Little Sister. Everything looks like it went well. You feeling all right?” He gave her a searching look.

Inca responded with a trembling smile. “Yes…even after eight hours of labor.” She gazed up at her husband and reached out and squeezed his hand. “I could not have done it without Roan.”

Mike nodded. “I’m sure. Well, hey, this little squirt is awful pretty. She looks just like you, Inca.” And he touched Kayla’s pudgy, rosy cheek. Then, he rose and went over to Dane. Opening his arms, he took Inca and Roan’s son into his arms, pride in his eyes as he studied the sleeping baby boy. His voice turned scratchy as he regarded them. “Thanks for calling him Michael. That’s a helluva compliment,” he said and he grinned unevenly, tears coming to his eyes.

Inca sniffed and smiled at Roan, and then shifted her tearful gaze back to her blood brother. “I swore a long time ago if I were ever allowed to have a son, he would be named in your honor.”

Mike leaned down and placed a kiss on the baby’s thick, black hair. “Well,” he said, his voice strained with emotion. “This son of yours will always have my heart, Little Sister. Thank you…both of you, for this honor.” He gazed tenderly down at his namesake and rocked him gently.

Standing back, Maya slipped beneath Dane’s arm. He always knew when she needed to be held. Giving her a warm look he saw Maya wipe tears from her own eyes. Dane knew how much Mike meant to Inca. He
was her blood brother and they were so very close, like family.

“Think you’d ever want one or two of these little critters?” Dane asked, pressing a kiss to Maya’s temple. He saw her smile and raise her gaze to his. There was such happiness in her emerald eyes.

“Maybe…some day. Not now, though….”

Nodding, Dane understood. Just seeing Roan and Inca together, Roan’s arm around Inca’s shoulders as she nursed their baby girl, made him love Maya even more fiercely. Someday, when she realized that her mission could be fulfilled by others who would come and do a tour of duty at her base, Maya might connect into her mothering side. Right now, she used her nurturing skills to mother her squadron, instead. Smiling to himself, Dane could see them having one or two children. He’d like the opportunity to try and be a good father, to work with Maya to help their children grow up healthy and happy. Coming from a broken home, he knew what to do to help a child feel safe and secure. And he knew that because Maya had been a foster child adopted by very loving people, she had an awful lot of love to shower on any child she might have.

Dane knew enough of Inca’s background, the pain, the abandonment and loss, to know that little Kayla and Michael would heal many of the deep wounds left within her soul. And the way Roan cared for his wife moved Dane deeply. Roan was a big man, rough-hewn, but his touch was tender and obviously filled with complete love toward Inca. Looking at himself in reflection, Dane could see some similarities between him and Roan. As much as Inca was the introvert, the shy one, the one who hid from much of life and civilization except for the small world she’d carved out in the Am
azon jungle, Maya had taken an opposite path. She was out there—extroverted, confident, assertive and combative when she needed to be. Not that Inca wasn’t a warrior, because she was, in her own way. Still, the softness of Inca’s features told Dane that Kayla and Michael, along with Roan’s love and support, would help her bind the last of her open wounds from the past. They had a very bright, hopeful future together.

Mike kissed Kayla on the noggin, gave Inca a kiss on the cheek and then handed Roan back his sleeping son. He excused himself. “I need to talk to Maya and Dane for a moment. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Inca nodded. “Do not be long, my brother?”

Mike nodded. Reaching down, he tousled her hair a little. “Not long,” he promised her. He got to his feet and moved over to Maya and Dane. He turned his back toward Inca and Roan, his voice lowered. “I hate to be a wet blanket on such a happy occasion, but if you two have a moment, I need to talk to you about some stuff that’s stirring.”

Rolling her eyes, Maya muttered, “Even here, we can’t get away from the heavy energy.”

Mike hitched one shoulder and gave her a wicked look. “The world doesn’t stop turning just because we’re here. You know better than that.”

Frowning, Maya nodded. “Okay, let’s go over to the main kettle on the plaza to grab something to eat. I’m starving to death.” She didn’t want to discuss things in front of Inca that might upset her right now. Inca deserved the happiness of the moment. She didn’t need to hear about another combat mission that Mike had more than likely cooked up, judging from the look in his eyes. Inca’s life had been one of constant war. Right now, Maya wanted her to enjoy the peace and
harmony that she so richly deserved with the birth of her twins and with Roan at her side. Nothing should upset this precious moment for her.

“Inca, Roan, we’re gonna grab a bite to eat. We’ll be back in a little while,” Maya said lightly.

Inca lifted her head, her eyes showing instant worry. “You will come back? Can you stay a little while longer?”

Maya nodded. “Dane and I are planning on spending at least two days here with you.” She saw instant relief in Inca’s moist eyes. More than anything, after giving birth to her babies, Inca wanted her family nearby, Maya knew. When she turned and looked at Grandmother Alaria, Maya could tell the older woman was aware that something was up.

Quietly leaving the birthing hut, Maya walked on one side of Mike Houston, Dane on the other. There were several logs in the center of the plaza that had been cut in half and positioned in a square around the black tripod and kettle. A fortifying cereal known as
kiwicha
bubbled in the pot over the coals of the dying fire. Maya picked up some wooden bowls from a nearby table. Going to the kettle, she spooned healthy portions into each. They all sat down with their food at the table.

Pouring some honey onto her cereal, Maya took one of the many clean wooden spoons held in a large, rough-hewn cup. “Okay, Mike, you’ve got that look in your eyes. What’s comin’ down?”

Dane sat next to Maya. Houston sat across from them, his expression becoming serious. Pouring some honey into his own bowl, he stirred it slowly.

“You ever heard of a Mexican drug lord by the name of Javier Rios?”

Maya nodded and chewed on the grainy-textured cereal. “He’s one of the main kingpins in Mexico for drug runnin’ from there into the U.S. and Canada. A mean son of a bitch who’d rather fire first and ask questions later.”

“Yep, same one,” Mike said. He poured some water from a pitcher into his wooden cup. Offering some to them, he filled two more cups. “Morgan has been contacted by the U.S. Border Patrol. They’re asking for his and the army’s help in putting Apaches along the Mexico-U.S. border. The pilots of drug-carrying planes are flying into the States undetected, and the border patrol doesn’t have the facilities to stop the air shipments. Rios knows this. He’s got enough money to hire U.S. pilots who are looking to pick up an easy ten grand to fly a couple hundred kilos to dealers in major cities.”

Dane quirked his lips. “So they want Apaches along the border to pick them up on radar as they fly from Mexico into U.S. airspace. And then what? What do you want them to do? Fire on them?”

“I wish. They deserve it,” Mike growled, taking a deep draft from his glass. Setting it down, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The Apaches are to do interdiction duty from San Diego, California, through Del Rio, Texas. The army is going to provide a certain number of Apaches to fly between point A and B every night with their radar turned toward Mexico. Any flight they pick up that’s not got a flight plan is suspect. They are authorized to initiate a second Apache, which will meet the intruder flight carrying the drugs and force it down at the nearest available airport.”

“So, no shooting them out of the sky?” Maya said.
She scraped her bowl and finished off the last of the tasty cereal.

“No. The Apaches are to identify, interdict and ground ’em, that’s all.”

“So, where does Maya come into all this?” Dane queried.

Mike put his empty bowl aside. “I need three of your savviest pilots, Maya. Women who are used to cowboying around, know drug dealers, can smell ’em coming a mile away and aren’t afraid of a little confrontation. There’s actually three missions being planned. Two are border patrol related and the third is an undercover one. I also need one to help coordinate the border patrol with the U.S. Army contingent. She will be responsible for setting up a plan of action and coordinating this whole ball of wax—successfully. The others will go to San Diego and work with the agents at the other end.” He smiled at her. “You got a pilot like that?”