Читать книгу Special Assignment: Baby - Debra Webb - Страница 7

WHY HAD HE come back here?

Halfway down the mile-long dirt-and-gravel driveway, Court Brody slowed the old truck he had purchased for this assignment to a stop and surveyed the Lonesome Pony ranch. Though not the same ranch he had grown up on, the scene was all too familiar. A wide stream curved through the property like a winding snake. The towering mountain ranges served as a backdrop for a picture straight off the pages of a calendar. A large barn and corral sat in the distance, beyond the trees that bordered the house and yard. Though more modern, the big rambling house with its sprawling front porch reminded him of the one he hadn’t lived in as a kid growing up in Montana.

Nope. His family had occupied a much smaller place just far enough away from the big house to know he didn’t really belong, but not quite far enough away to ignore what he was missing. Court swallowed the bitterness that welled in his throat at the memories.

His family had been dirt poor. Once his pathetic excuse for a father had died, he and his three bothers had scattered apart like so much dust in the wind. But he had landed on his feet. He’d gotten his college degree by working hard and earning a scholarship. Then he’d joined the Bureau. He had what he wanted now—money, prestige and a great condo as far away from this damned place as he could get and still remain in the continental United States. His brothers hadn’t done so badly either.

“Enough, Brody,” Court grumbled. Coming back here wasn’t his idea, but he would make the best of it because it was his job. And Courtland Brody never failed at his job. He was good. He knew it, and the Bureau knew it as well. If Daniel Austin and the rest of his Montana Confidential crew didn’t know it yet, they soon would. Whether they ever wanted to admit it or not. Court knew the business of undercover work.

A division of the Federal Department of Safety, Montana Confidential worked in a way the Bureau couldn’t. The agents lived and worked a ranch, thus blending in with the locals. The Bureau, acting as Big Brother, offered to lend a hand in getting the Montana operation off the ground. Translation: Court’s new assignment, infiltrate the militia and determine what leader Joshua Neely was up to. Not such a bad assignment had it been any place else on the planet. There were far too many memories here that he didn’t want to relive. Too many faces he didn’t want to see…couldn’t bear to see.

Disgusted with himself for loitering in the past, Court drove the rest of the way to the house and parked behind Daniel Austin’s truck. It was Saturday and most of the crew appeared to be on the porch enjoying the late August afternoon. Thankfully it wasn’t as hot as it had been the past couple of days. He might as well get this over with. Court emerged from the vehicle and strode toward the house.

Not surprisingly, Dale McMurty was the first to greet him. Dale and her husband, Patrick, were locals and friendly to a fault. Exactly the kind of people he’d left behind eleven years ago. He didn’t want anyone close, and the McMurtys liked to get close. The elderly couple served as caretakers for the ranch Montana Confidential used as a home base. Just one more reason he was glad to be bunking at the compound now.

“Howdy, Court,” Dale shouted, hands propped on her apron-clad, ample hips. She appraised him from head to toe as he stepped up onto the porch. “Now, that’s more like it, son. You look like you belong on a ranch instead of in some big fancy office.”

Court couldn’t prevent the half smile that tilted one side of his mouth. Leave it to Dale to praise his thrift-store finds. He needed to fit in, therefore faded jeans and worn shirts were a must. But the boots and hat were his own. Some things a man couldn’t compromise on. No matter how long he lived in the city, he didn’t think he would ever find anything that wore better than a good pair of boots.

“You look like the Marlboro man,” Whitney MacNair, Austin’s executive assistant, noted, approval in her crisp voice. As usual, she looked like a model off the cover of Cosmopolitan magazine.

“Thank you, ladies,” Court acknowledged with a tip of his hat. Dale was likely just being nice, Court knew, but Whitney—the fashion queen—was another story. “I couldn’t exactly waltz into Neely’s compound wearing Armani, now could I?”

Whitney pretended to consider that option for a moment, then grinned. “Guess not, cowboy.”

Court resisted the wicked urge to ask her if she knew the UPS man on a first-name basis yet. The wilds of Montana might not offer a Gucci store for the diehard in-vogue shopper, but Whitney had discovered a direct connection to her favorite big-city shops on the Internet. And UPS was more than happy to deliver.

Frank Connolly, one of the agents assigned to Confidential, nodded a hello in Court’s direction, but he was too busy attending to his new wife to pay Court any real mind. And C.J. definitely had eyes only for Frank. She shot Court a quick smile just the same. He had to admit that the two made a nice couple. A wistful feeling welled inside of him, but he brutally squashed it. He didn’t need a relationship like that…he had the Bureau.

Jewel, the McMurtys’ usually vivacious twelve-year-old granddaughter, looked about as solemn-faced as a lonesome filly separated from the rest of the herd. Court wondered if Frank and C.J.’s wedding was the reason for her sad expression. The kid had herself a king-size crush on the ex-military pilot. Frank’s sudden marriage to C.J. obviously didn’t sit well with the kid. Well, Court could certainly sympathize with that.

Marriage was just like family—overrated.

More greetings were exchanged before Court made his way to the man he needed to see. Daniel Austin, head of operations, stood at the far end of the porch looking out over the ranch. The place was shaping up rather well, Court had to admit. And Austin was the driving force behind the evolution. A former dude ranch, the Lonesome Pony had every amenity one could wish for in the wilds of horse country, including a fancy pool and private cabins. Austin had done a good job pulling this setup together in a short period of time.

Court wondered, though, as he came up next to Austin, if this would ever be enough for the man. Court had the distinct impression that something was missing. Maybe Austin was another victim of the wedding bell blues. The man was obviously still in love with his ex-wife, and missed his son immensely.

Just another reason, Court mused, to steer clear of the troubling entanglement of marriage. He didn’t want to know the kind of regrets and pain being separated from a child could bring.

Austin met Court’s gaze then, and studied him a moment before he spoke. “What went wrong?”

Before Court even opened his mouth, the man knew. He was smart, and too wise for Court’s comfort. Of course, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Court wouldn’t have bothered stopping by so early in the operation unless he felt it absolutely necessary. “I ran into an old friend,” he admitted quietly.

“I thought you didn’t have any connections here.”

Court heard the concern in the older man’s voice. Both knew just how risky this business could be. There was no room for guesswork.

“Just one.” One he had banished from his mind two years ago, Court didn’t add. One he should have forgotten, but hadn’t really—at least not on the level he needed to. And he’d definitely tried.

“Give me his name and I’ll have Kyle or Frank take care of it.”

“Her name is Sabrina Korbett.” Court let go a weary breath. “And I can take care of her myself. She won’t give me up.”

Surprise evident in his expression, Austin asked, “You’re sure about that?”

Court nodded. “She’s the only one who knows. She wouldn’t purposely put me in danger, but…” He took a moment to consider his words. “But she might not understand, so I’ll have to talk to her.” He shrugged. “Make up some kind of acceptable excuse.”

Austin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She’s that kind of connection, huh?”

“She used to be.” Court pretended to survey the landscape he’d just as soon not lay eyes on again. Austin was studying him, attempting to read his thoughts. Measuring the risk.

“I’ve met Sabrina, even bought some mares from her,” Austin told him. “She seems nice enough.” He leveled his too-knowing gaze on Court’s. “But watch your step,” he advised sagely. “A woman can be your best friend, or your worst enemy. Even one as sweet as Sabrina.”

Court suffered his own little jolt of surprise at the knowledge that Austin knew Sabrina. Just another possibility he hadn’t considered. It seemed his old life was determined to get all twisted up with his new one. And he didn’t want that to happen.

“I just came by to let you know that I’m in,” Court said abruptly, effectively changing the subject. “They’re going to make it official at the rally tonight.”

“Let’s take a walk,” Austin suggested.

Court followed Austin across the porch and to the steps. Before he could get away completely, C.J.’s English-accented voice stopped him. “Whitney and Kyle are laying odds on who will walk down the aisle next. What’s your opinion, Agent Brody?” she asked.

Deliberately, Court turned back to face both the question and the lady. Her cheeks darkened as if she’d only just realized how forward her question sounded. “I wouldn’t dream of speculating, Mrs. Connolly, but I can guarantee you it won’t be me.”

A knowing smile tilted the lovely scientist’s mouth. “Never say never, Agent Brody,” she warned.

“When my daddy gets married, I’m gonna be the f’ower girl,” Molly, Kyle Foster’s daughter, announced in her most enthusiastic three-year-old voice, from her position in her daddy’s lap. Kyle only shook his head in dismay.

Court gifted the little girl with a smile and quickly turned away from the other speculative gazes. He didn’t care what they laid odds on as long as they left him out of it. Kyle, the second agent assigned to support Montana Confidential, should have learned his lesson as well. Court had heard the rumors about how the guy’s ex-wife had dumped him and the kid. Court shook his head as he followed Austin away from the house. Walking away from a defunct marriage was one thing, but leaving a kid was unspeakable.

Just another reason that “never” was exactly when Court planned to marry. The image of Sabrina suddenly loomed large in his mind, but he pushed it away. Whatever they had once shared, it was long gone now. There was nothing between them anymore but his guilt, her hurt and a lingering spark of leftover physical attraction.

“The vet stopped by yesterday,” Austin said, drawing Court’s wayward attention back to him. “That prizewinning mare we were lucky enough to purchase was successfully bred with the new stallion.”

Court glanced at the pasture beyond the corral where the stallion grazed. The animal was a beauty. A dark bay with a white blanket and spots. Court propped one arm on the top rail of the corral and surveyed the other mares scattered about beyond the stallion. Mostly quarter horses and Appaloosas, he noted, remembering that the Double K, Sabrina’s ranch, had specialized in Appys. The thought was accompanied by another image of Sabrina and those long, tanned legs. His mouth went dust dry.

Blinking away the image, he snagged his gaze on the one horse that didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the herd. An old gelding—Silver, if he remembered right. A mottled white horse, the color of stonework. The bony old fella wasn’t good for much other than keeping the McMurtys’ granddaughter happy. The girl did love that old horse.

Court snapped his thoughts back to the assignment. Horses weren’t his business anymore. Neither were ranches. Hell, he didn’t even like being here.

“Is there something else you wanted to say, Austin?” Court knew the man hadn’t dragged him away from the others to brag about his breeding expertise. Court already knew more than he wanted to about what people did for a living in Montana. He could teach Austin a thing or two. Including how that fancy helicopter Austin had insisted the Confidential crew needed for rapid deployment could be used for herding horses.

Austin fixed his steady brown gaze on Court’s. “I know you think you’re not one of us, Court, but you are.” He held up his hand when Court would have protested the “teamwork” talk again. “Right now you’re assigned to Confidential, and I expect you to remember that.”

“I don’t think there’s much chance I could forget it,” Court returned curtly.

“You’re a good man, Court, a top-notch agent, but don’t think that will keep me from jerking your butt off this assignment if you ignore my orders.”

Court gritted his teeth against the instant response that wanted to form on his lips. He knew his job…and he knew the chain of command. Austin didn’t need to remind him of either.

“Don’t even think about leaving me out of the loop. We’re a team. Frank and Kyle are part of that team as well.”

“You’ll know everything I know,” Court assured him patiently. “I’ll keep you fully informed.”

“Good.” Austin’s gaze returned to the stallion. “Since I know you’re a man of your word, I won’t worry about that anymore.”

“I’ll check in with you as soon as I have anything to pass along.”

Court turned and strode toward his truck. He would keep Austin informed…that was his job. But if Austin thought Court was going to follow anybody else’s time clock, he had another thought coming.

“Court.”

Reluctantly, Court stopped and turned back to the man in charge. “Yeah?”

“Don’t forget what I said about women. You can’t ever be sure.”

Court nodded thoughtfully, then continued toward his destination. Hell, he supposed his next stop should be the Double K. He had to set Sabrina straight right from the start. And he had every intention of finding out what she’d been doing at the militia compound.

Maybe that way she wouldn’t haunt his dreams again tonight. Hell, if he’d known that last night’s dream of seeing her again was going to be prophetic he’d have avoided today’s confrontation. But he hadn’t known, and today’s little tête-à-tête had proved one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt. He would have to be very, very careful where Sabrina was concerned.

COURT BRAKED TO A STOP in front of the Korbett house and shoved the gearshift into Park. The paint on the looming two-story house was blistered and peeling. A frown tugged at his mouth. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the place in this kind of shape. His father had been handy with a paintbrush and he’d spent a lifetime taking care of the Double K. Court blinked away the memories that immediately surfaced from his childhood here. The old man had been handy with a liquor bottle as well. It dawned on Court then that the house probably hadn’t been painted since his father died fourteen years ago. His frown deepened again as his gaze shifted to the barn, then the fenced pastures. The whole place was in pretty sad shape.

Where were the horses? He surveyed the empty pastures again. The place had a definite empty feel to it.

The driver’s side door groaned as he pushed it open. Court slid from behind the wheel and pushed the door shut amid the sound of another rusty grumble. Sabrina’s father had died about five years back, if memory served him right. But Sabrina had seemed fine when Court returned a couple of years ago for his mother’s funeral. But then she hadn’t done much talking about the ranch or her family. And that was the extent of what he knew regarding the Korbetts these days. Discounting the unexpected way his body still longed for hers.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

He and Sabrina had been down that road, and Court felt relatively certain she didn’t want to go that route again any more than he did. I want you to stay away from me. Her warning had been pretty clear, he decided when the memory pricked his ego.

The house where he’d lived the first nineteen years of his life abruptly caught his eye. As if marching the last mile to his execution, Court headed in that direction. The place was set against the foot of the mountain and nestled in the trees. The Korbetts had called it the springhouse, since a wide spring ran between it and the main house and barn. This time of year the flow of water wouldn’t be much more than a trickle. But he remembered vividly the rocks that lay beneath the water. Collecting them had been one of his favorite hobbies as a kid.

Amazingly, the old log-and-chink house had withstood the elements and time far better, it seemed, than the main house.

Court hesitated halfway to the barn. He supposed he should knock on Sabrina’s door and let her know he was here. Judging by yesterday’s reception, he was likely trespassing at the moment as far as she would be concerned. She wouldn’t welcome his presence. Not relishing what he was about to do, Court started toward the porch. He could count on her having questions. Sabrina Korbett had never been the type to let anything go easily—except him. She hadn’t once tried to talk him into staying. His sudden appearance now under what could only be called questionable circumstances would pique her natural curiosity.

But somehow he had to make sure she understood where he stood in spite of the fact that he couldn’t tell her a single thing.

SABRINA DROPPED the feed buckets near the supply room door and wiped the perspiration from her forehead with her sleeve. She dusted her hands on her faded jeans and sighed with satisfaction. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Both the mares would foal soon. Then she would have four horses rather than two. She wished her father was still alive to give her some badly needed advice. No matter how many years passed, she still missed him…missed the way things used to be when she’d been a skinny kid with nothing to worry about except chasing Court Brody.

Sabrina shook the thought away. She would not think about him right now. She had too much on her plate already.

This spring had been the hardest. With the property taxes due and no money to live on, she had come dangerously close to losing the ranch, but Daniel Austin had saved her. He had bought her entire herd save for the two mares. He’d even purchased a small portion of her land to go along with the Lonesome Pony since the two properties bordered each other. Though Sabrina hated to start from scratch, and even worse, she hated to part with any of the land, it was the only way to save the ranch. Austin had paid her top dollar, too.

Sabrina smiled. If she were completely honest with herself, she would admit that he paid her more than the goods she sold him were worth. Either the man seemed to sense her desperation or he didn’t really know the depressed value of things. Now she had the taxes and insurance paid, and she had enough money in the bank to survive on for a little while. She’d even put back a little something toward college for Charlie. She wouldn’t touch that money for anything other than an outright medical emergency. If worse came to worst at this point, she would have to consider a mortgage, and that was assuming she could get approved for a loan. She had nothing left of value to sell.

Except the land, and she wouldn’t sell another square foot of the land her father had passed on to her and her brother Charlie.

They would make it.

Somehow.

Sabrina reached up to turn off the baby monitor just as her fifteen-month-old son let out a sleepy sigh. Emotion constricted her throat as her firm resolve not to think about Court crumbled. If he discovered her secret, what would he say? More important, what would he do? He wanted no part of life here. Hadn’t for years. Would he be determined to take his son from the only home he had ever known?

Fear slid through her veins. She moistened her lips and forced herself to breathe. She couldn’t let that happen. But all it would take was one look. Ryan looked so much like his father. Brown hair streaked with golden highlights. Same gray eyes. Her pulse reacted at the memory of Court’s kiss this morning. What in the world was he doing back here? Why would he come back after all this time? Her lips dipped into a frown. Hanging out with men like Raymond Green and Joshua Neely wasn’t Court’s style. He was smarter than that.

Two years ago when he’d come home for his mother’s funeral, Court had been an agent with the FBI. He’d told Sabrina everything about his new life that night, his enthusiasm had been impossible to contain. She swallowed tightly. The night Ryan had been conceived.

His presence at the militia compound just didn’t add up. Nor did Charlie’s, Sabrina ruminated. Somehow she had to get her brother away from those men. He was only fourteen, too young to understand the evil that men like Neely could do in the name of God and country.

If only her mother hadn’t deserted them three years ago. Sabrina shook her head sadly. Like Court, her mother had been only too happy to leave Montana and start a new life. Too bad she left her old one in an uproar, and Sabrina to raise the son she had no time or patience to deal with. It seemed everyone Sabrina loved was destined to leave her one way or the other. But she could count on Ryan. He loved her no matter what.

Heaving a beleaguered sigh, Sabrina snagged the monitor from its shelf, turned it off and strode out of the barn. She couldn’t change the past. She thought of Ryan, the only part of the past she didn’t want to change. But she could do her best to survive, and to create a good life for her son and her brother.

Sabrina stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders to loosen them up after her barn-cleaning frenzy as she headed back toward the house. She had needed a way to release the pent-up stress related to Court’s kiss. The house sparkled after the scrubbing she’d given the place, leaving her no option but to turn her attention to the barn. With Ryan asleep, leaving the house would have been impossible if not for the handy monitor. Thank God for that invention. She couldn’t survive without the gadget. She had received it as a shower gift. At first she had been reluctant to use it, but that didn’t last long.

Anytime Ryan was asleep, she could do chores and still know that he was sleeping safely in his crib. The monitor was so sensitive she could hear even the slightest change in his breathing. If he woke up, she would know immediately. Her little cleaning venture was just what she had needed to work off some steam this afternoon.

Swiping back a wisp of hair that had escaped her ponytail, Sabrina smoothed a hand down the front of her dusty shirt. Still too flat-chested to worry with a bra, she wondered if Court found her in any way attractive. He’d kissed her. But that was probably nothing more than a spontaneous reaction to seeing her after all this time. She was too tall and too skinny. Court probably had a whole harem of voluptuous blondes back in D.C. She hadn’t been woman enough to keep him. Not even after she’d given him her innocence. Her enthusiasm had pushed him away. He’d wanted to get away for as long as she could remember. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

Her gaze suddenly lit on an unfamiliar truck parked next to her own. She squinted and tried to make out more details about the beat-up old jalopy. The thing looked worse than hers, and that was saying something. As she neared the house she heard several raps against her front door. Sabrina hastened her step, all but running around the corner of the house. She didn’t get many callers these days, and she didn’t want this one to inadvertently wake up her sleeping child. She still had more outside work to do.

Who would be dropping by this time of day, anyway? Most folks she knew were busy working until dusk. God, she hoped nothing had happened to Charlie.

A tall, broad-shouldered man, his back turned to her, stood at her front door.

“Can I help you?” she called hesitantly as she neared the porch. There was something familiar about his stance, she decided just as he turned around.

Court.

A chunk of ice formed in Sabrina’s stomach. Had someone told him about Ryan? Could he know already? She resisted the impulse to shake her head. That couldn’t be. No one knew Court was Ryan’s father. No one but the doctor, that is.

“What do you want?” Sabrina asked coldly.

That gray gaze settled onto hers, and Sabrina’s heart took an extra foolish beat. How could any man look that good? Mile-wide shoulders, lean waist. She shook herself. This was no time to be admiring Court’s many physical assets. He was standing on her porch, only a few feet from where Ryan lay sleeping. She suddenly remembered the monitor she held and quickly tucked it into the back of her waistband. Her heart bumped into high speed.

“We need to talk, Brin.”

His voice was low, steady, and too gentle. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to look at him. “I’d like you to leave, Court,” she said sternly. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”

Sabrina stood her ground near the steps. She would not give him any remote hope that he might be invited in. To her utter relief he moved across the porch and down the steps, his slow, fluid movements making it difficult for her to breathe. There had always been something about the way he moved. It was more than mere male cockiness…something sensual yet predatory.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He slowly rotated his hat in his hands, his gaze seemingly uncertain. Could he be nervous? She almost laughed out loud at that notion. The one thing Court Brody had always been was absolutely certain of himself. And with good reason. He was strong, powerfully built, and more intelligent than any man she had ever known.

But his heart was hardened with bitterness and resentment. And nothing Sabrina had ever done had changed that.

“I wish you’d reconsider, Brin.”

He still called her Brin. No one but Court had ever called her by that nickname past the age of fifteen. Not even her father.

“Don’t call me that.” She swiped her damp palms against her thighs. “No one calls me that anymore.”

“I need you to understand how important being a part of the militia is for me.”

His words stunned her. “You are kidding?” she blurted. “You don’t see through Neely?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I thought you were some big, hotshot FBI agent. What happened, Court? Did you get bored with that, too?” Lord knew the man had a restless streak a mile wide, one that cut straight through that rock in his chest he called a heart.

He blinked but gave away nothing of his feelings. Just like always, she would never know what he was really feeling.

“I don’t want to talk about the Bureau or D.C.” He stared at the ground a moment. “I’m trying to put that behind me.” His gaze latched onto hers once more. “I want to start over. Here.”

If she’d thought he’d stunned her before, she was completely astonished now. “Here?” she parroted. “Now I know you’re joking.”

A muscle twitched in his chiseled jaw. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Sabrina laughed dryly. “It’s downright unfathomable.”

Irritation marred his handsome features. “Be that as it may, I’m back. I don’t think folks around here would understand about my time in the Bureau. I’d rather you didn’t mention it.”

“I see,” she replied with sudden clarity. “You don’t want Brother Neely to know you were once an actual fed, is that it?”

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be, Brin,” he warned. This time there was nothing at all gentle about his tone.

He stepped nearer…too close. Sabrina held her ground, despite the butterflies taking flight in her stomach.

“No one else knows but you,” he reminded in a low, lethal tone that sent shivers skittering up her spine. “But I’m not worried ’cause I know you wouldn’t do anything to make trouble for me.”

He had her there. No matter what he’d done in the past. No matter how badly he had hurt her. Sabrina would never do anything to hurt him—except keep her own secret. But that was to protect Ryan, she rationalized, when she knew damn well it was to protect herself. She couldn’t lose her son. No way.

She remembered to exhale. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it,” she said tightly.

Those silvery depths softened then, and he almost smiled. The quirking of his lips was so subtle that had she not been looking at him so intently she would surely have missed the movement. Her pulse fluttered at the absolute beauty of those lips.

“I owe you,” he murmured, even closer now.

Panic trickled through her, slowing her body’s instant fight-or-flight reaction to his proximity. Ryan could wake up any moment and start screaming for his mommy—or worse, he could climb out of the crib and toddle onto the porch. That image opened the floodgates of her anxiety.

“I’d like you to leave now, Court.” She started to take a step back, but he moved again, stalling her. His hand came up to her face, and those long, tanned fingers smoothed that forever-errant wisp of hair from her cheek. Warmth spread through her so fast that it made her light-headed. How could a mere touch affect her so?

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Brin.” He searched her eyes, looking for forgiveness or maybe just trying to read what he saw there. “I hope you know that.”

“We’re not talking about the past, remember?” she protested, however shakily.

He swallowed hard. She watched the slow movement of muscle beneath smooth, tanned skin. “Right.” He studied her face a moment longer, as if committing to memory the changes time and worry had wrought.

“Goodbye, Court.” This time Sabrina stepped away from him. She needed distance. And a new heart. One that wouldn’t let Court Brody inside.

“I’ll be back,” he warned, “and then we’ll set things straight.”

Sabrina watched him stalk back to his truck. He dropped behind the wheel, and then drove away. She didn’t move until he’d disappeared in the direction of town—or more accurately, the militia compound.

“Don’t come back, Court,” she murmured, her heart sinking. “I can’t survive losing you again.”