Читать книгу The Return of Connor Mansfield - Beth Cornelison - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Connor divided a look between Jones and Raleigh. “Do you want to do the honors?”

Jones waved a hand in deferral. “Go ahead. We’ll jump in as needed.”

Darby sighed impatiently. “Someone talk.”

Turning on the seat to better face her, Connor scooped Darby’s hand in his. For a moment, he thought she might yank it back, but she hesitated, eyeing him with a combination of suspicion and concern. “Do you remember right before I...left—”

Her eyebrow rose as if taking issue with his euphemism. You abandoned me.

Connor’s chest wrenched. Knowing how hard Darby had taken his disappearance—no, his faked death—poured acid guilt on his conscience. He’d known she’d be heartbroken. They’d been in love, planning to marry. But he truly hadn’t realized how bitter, how hurt she’d be.

He puffed out a breath and plunged on. “You remember that I testified in the federal trial against William Gale, right?”

She nodded, holding his gaze.

“Well, what I didn’t tell you at the time was that the Gales have ties to organized crime. In fact, they head up a branch of organized crime that operates in Lagniappe.”

She sat straighter, her eyes widening and her face paling. “Organized crime? But—”

“I didn’t know about their criminal connections when I went to work for them. And I didn’t learn about the criminal activity for a long time. They’re quite good at hiding their illegal sidelines.”

Darby held up a hand. “Wait. I’m sensing this is too big to cover in one hurried conversation parked in a back alley.” She flipped her wrist and checked her watch. “I’ve already been gone too long. Savannah is leaving the hospital today. She was almost ready to go when I bolted out of her room to follow my hunch about you.”

Connor frowned. “Who’s with her now?”

“Hunter. But I have to get back. I—” She leaned toward the front seat, grabbing Raleigh’s arm. “Take me to St. Mary’s Hospital. Now!” She sighed and added, “Please.”

Raleigh turned on the seat to face his partner. “She’s right about one thing. We need to get her back to the hospital before her absence causes concern with the family or hospital staff.”

Jones tapped fingers to his lips as he thought. “Okay.” While Raleigh started the engine again, Jones narrowed a serious look at Darby. “Here’s the deal. Witness security only works if the subject breaks all ties with his former life. No one can know Sam is still alive.”

“But his family—”

“No. No one. Do you understand?”

Darby hesitated, nodded, then knitted her brow in consternation. “Wait, how is Connor supposed to be Savannah’s donor if no one can know he’s alive?”

“Connor can’t. Connor is dead. But Sam Orlean can.” Jones paused and leaned toward Darby to emphasize his point. “As long as his cover remains intact.”

Darby glanced at Connor, then back to the marshal. “Only problem with that is my family, Connor’s family...everyone knows Connor is Savannah’s father. And because of the DNA tests he took, so does Dr. Reed and her staff. They even called me to ask about it. They were puzzled when the tests showed Sam Orlean—” she drew quotation marks with her fingers as she said the name “—was Savannah’s biological father. They wanted to know if I was sure it was Connor who’d fathered my baby. As if I slept around and couldn’t keep track of my lovers.” Her tone held a bitter edge.

“That could work,” Raleigh said from the driver’s seat as he negotiated traffic. “You could tell the doctor you had a one-night stand while on vacation and were too embarrassed to say anything before now.”

Darby’s expression mirrored her outrage. “Pregnant from a one-night stand? Hell, no! I’m not that kind of woman.”

“We’re not saying you are. But if you could tell people that’s how you got pregnant, that’s why Sam Orlean of Dallas is the girl’s father—”

She visibly tensed, her fury palpable. “You mean lie? If I tell people that, I become that woman in the eyes of people I love and respect.”

Connor had heard enough. “Darby...”

Her gaze jerked to him, her green eyes blazing. “Do you hear what they’re asking? Do you have any idea how much it would hurt your parents for me to tell them the little girl they love, the grandchild they believe was a posthumous gift from you, isn’t really yours?”

A sharp ache speared him. The last thing he wanted was to cause his family or Darby any more pain. “I hate this as much as you do, but we have to consider all the options.”

She rounded on him. “Do you hate it? You hurt us all easily enough when you faked your death five years ago! What’s one more stab in the back to a family you already walked away from? The family who grieves for you even today!”

Connor stiffened. “Leaving you, letting my family think I was dead was the hardest thing I’ve ever done! I hated the idea of my parents thinking I’d died, of you going through that kind of heartache and grief. Of my brothers—” He huffed in frustration as a knot of his own grief balled in his chest. “I did it to protect you. All of you! And I’d rather that sacrifice not go to waste by blowing my cover now.”

“I will not lie to the people I love. I cannot hurt them that way!” Darby poked him in the chest, then flopped back against the seat and crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Even if it means protecting the father of your child from men who want to kill him?” Jones asked.

Darby snapped her attention to the marshal, her anger clearly slipping a notch when faced with the brutal reality of the situation. Her mouth opened, as if to reply, then closed again.

Connor turned toward her, tamping his own frustration in order to keep his tone nonconfrontational. This might be his only chance to see Darby, to touch her and explain the choices he’d made, and he refused to spend it arguing. “Honey, forget about me for a minute. Yes, having my cover blown would put me at risk, but more important to me is the danger you and Savannah might be in. And my family. If the Gales find out I’m alive, they might strike at you to get back at me. They know the best way to hurt me is to hurt the people I love.”

A shadow of fear crept into her eyes, and she wet her lips. “Connor, I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt, but there has to be another way. Your family can keep the secret that you’re alive if—”

“No,” Jones interrupted. “The more people who know, the higher the risk. We have to contain this. We need your word that you’ll cooperate with us, whatever it takes, in order to keep Sam alive and your family safe.”

“And we need that commitment now,” Raleigh added. “We’re at the hospital.”

Connor glanced out the side window, and sure enough, they’d reached St. Mary’s. He glanced up at the brick edifice, and his heart seized. His daughter was inside those walls. The little girl he’d made with Darby. A longing so pure and deep flooded him that he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Raleigh and Jones were still trying to impress upon Darby the importance of her complete silence, the need for her to agree to whatever lie they invented about Savannah’s parentage.

“I want to see her,” he blurted. Three heads swiveled toward him.

“What?” Darby asked.

He held Darby’s gaze, bittersweet longing swelling in his chest. “I want to see my daughter.”

Though he knew in his head all the reasons it was a bad idea, his heart shouted down the rational voice of his conscience. He might never have this chance again, a chance to meet his firstborn, the opportunity to hold her, hug her, tell her he loved her. He took Darby’s hands in his, his pulse thudding unsteadily. “Let me meet Savannah. Please?”

“Uhhh,” Raleigh said, dragging out the syllable to reflect his uncertainty. “Not a good idea.”

Connor ignored the marshal, still holding Darby’s hands and gaze, waiting. If she agreed, he’d move heaven and earth to make time with his daughter happen.

Tears filled her eyes, and she bit her bottom lip when it trembled. Hurt and anger darkened her gaze. “I want to say no. I want to say you gave up the right to see her when you walked out of our lives.”

Connor tensed and squeezed her hands. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

She nodded her concession on that point. “That’s why I can’t justify keeping you from her. You’re her father. You have a right to see her.”

Behind him, Jones grunted. “Sam, we can’t—”

“I am.” He shifted on the seat to face Marshal Jones, determination firming his resolve. “I am going to meet my daughter. With or without your help.”