Читать книгу Her Christmas Hero - Elle James - Страница 14

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Chapter Five

Laurel leaned forward in the chair, staring at the screen. The disappointment nearly suffocated her.

“It’s okay,” Garrett said softly. His hand rubbed her back.

“I can’t find him.” She shrank away from his touch. She didn’t want comfort. She’d failed. She’d been so certain. She shoved away from the console.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” He stood beside her and turned her into his arms. He looked down at her. The expression on his face held too much sympathy.

“I failed my father. I failed Ivy. I failed you.” She tried to push away, but he refused to let her go. She shook her head. “I failed Molly.”

Laurel couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face. She’d thought she could do this. She’d believed if she were in her element she could save them all. What a fool she’d been.

“Listen to me. These people are good. I wasn’t able to catch them. Neither was Ivy. Or your father. You didn’t let anyone down.”

He pressed her into his chest. She clung to his shirt, gripping him tight. His warmth seeped through her as the sobs racked her body.

“Shh,” he muttered. “It’s okay.”

Laurel couldn’t stop the flood of emotions: the guilt, the pain, the grief. Everything overwhelmed her. She didn’t know how long she stood in Garrett’s embrace, but when she came up for air, her body was spent.

He rubbed her back awhile longer, whispering soft words of comfort—lies, really. Because nothing would be all right. It couldn’t be.

Finally she pushed against his chest and tried to hide her face from him. He tilted her chin up. “You don’t have to hide. You just did what I wanted to do from the moment I came to Trouble.”

With a swipe of her tears, she cleared her throat. “Doesn’t do any good. Now I’m exhausted and fuzzy headed.”

“And less likely to crumble under the pressure. Molly will need that strength from you.”

“You’re going to lay down a trail of bread crumbs, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Without backup? You can’t.”

Garrett brushed aside the chopped hair that didn’t feel like hers. “I can’t let them use you and Molly as leverage. Not against James. Or me.” He closed in on her, his large frame looming. His presence sucked the air from the room. He took her hand in his. “You can trust Daniel, and he has connections. If I fail, they can give you a new life.”

She gripped his fingers. “Dad will kick my butt if I let you sacrifice yourself without a fight.”

“He’d understand,” Garrett said, his face certain, frozen like stone.

“Convince me,” Laurel said, placing her hand on his chest. “They could end up using you anyway.”

Garrett whirled away from her, stalked across the room and shoved his hands through his hair. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. And that’s saying a lot given the work I do. Why can’t you just agree?”

“Because I can’t let you go on a suicide mission.” She followed him, reaching up to his shoulders. Something more was going on with him. She could feel it.

She tugged at his arm, trying to see his face, look into his eyes. When he finally faced her, she gasped at the pain in his expression.

“Why are you doing this, really?” she whispered, leaning into him.

“It’s not important.” Garrett cleared his throat and then his hand trembled. He cupped her cheek. “You and Molly need to be safe. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

The air grew thick between them.

“Because of your loyalty to my father?”

His thumb stroked her skin. She closed her eyes. Something had been simmering between them since they’d met.

“Because I can’t let anyone else I care about get hurt.”

With a groan he lowered his mouth to hers. She clung to him, holding his face between her hands while he explored her lips.

He tasted of coffee, a hint of cinnamon and something uniquely Garrett. With each caress of his mouth, a tingle built low in her belly as if he had a direct line to her soul. A low rumble built within his chest and he scooped her against him, flattening her breasts against his chest.

This wasn’t like any first kiss she’d ever experienced. He took her mouth as if he owned her, and she met him more than halfway. When he tried to raise his head she tugged him back down.

“More,” she whispered. “Make me feel.”

She wanted to lose herself in his touch. She tugged his shirt from his pants and let her fingers explore the skin of his belly, then up to the hair on his chest.

“You’re playing with fire,” he muttered.

“Then let me burn.”

A squeaking door erupted between them. Laurel’s eyes grew wide.

“Molly.”

* * *

“AUNT LAUREL, I’M BORED. There aren’t any toys here.” Molly shoved into the office, her little arms crossed. Laurel sprang out of Garrett’s arms, her face flushed.

“What are you doing?”

Garrett cleared his throat and tried to order his body under control. He glanced down at Laurel. She didn’t appear any less flushed. Her cheeks went red and she pulled her hands from beneath his shirt. He regretted the loss, but in some ways Molly had saved them both. He smiled at the little girl. “So, sugar, it’s almost lunchtime. How would you like to go on a picnic?”

Laurel stepped back, her expression stunned. “I don’t think—”

“What about the big kitty?” Molly asked, her voice tentative.

“Well, I’ll be there, and cats usually stay away from people. We’ll be fine.”

“Absolutely not.” Laurel shook her head. “It’s December.”

“December in West Texas isn’t the same as anywhere else,” Garrett said. “All she needs is a jacket. And we both need to run off some energy, take in a bit of brisk air.” He sent her a pointed glance.

“Oh, please, Aunt Laurel,” Molly said, tugging on her shirt. “I wanna have lunch outside and go ’sploring with Sheriff Garrett.”

Laurel’s face softened, and Garrett could see her indecision. Laurel loved her niece. He liked her fierce protectiveness. Laurel McCallister had a lot of her dad in her. Courage that started with a spine of steel. Courage that made her way too attractive for his peace of mind.

Besides, if they stayed in this cabin, Garrett didn’t know how much longer he could resist her. James would take him to the torture chamber if Garrett put the moves on his little girl.

“I need to take a look around and set a few pieces of equipment.” Laurel sent him a meaningful gaze. So she’d decided to work with him.

One surprise after another, this woman.

“Yay!” Molly twirled around and around. “We’re going on a picnic. We’re going on a picnic,” she repeated over and over again in a singsong voice.

She skipped around the small cabin.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Do you want to try to keep her inside all day and then get her to sleep tonight?” Garrett arched a brow.

Laurel’s gaze fell to Molly’s movements, and then she sighed. “I thought she’d grieve more,” she said. “I thought she’d be sad.” She reached into the box of staples Garrett had brought and pulled out the homemade bread, then grabbed the sandwich fixings Hondo had provided out of the small refrigerator.

“She will be. She’ll have a moment when she falls, but right now, something isn’t letting her process what happened.”

Laurel spread mustard over a piece of bread, then bent over the sink, clutching the porcelain. Her shoulders sagged. For a moment or two she fought the emotion. Everything inside Garrett made him want to hold her, comfort her, but he also knew sometimes grief needed space.

When her shoulders quivered, then shook, Garrett couldn’t stay away. He crossed the small kitchen in two steps and placed his hands on her shoulders. He bent to her ear. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

Molly entertained herself across the room. He turned Laurel in his arms. Tears streamed down her face. She buried her head against his shoulder to hide them.

“I miss Ivy. I miss my family.” Her voice had thickened with grief. Garrett rubbed her back, holding her close.

After he’d woken from the coma, alone in a hospital, with a new name, he hadn’t had time to cry. God, he’d wanted to, but there was no one left to comfort him or hold him. His family was gone.

He could hold Laurel, though. His arms wrapped tighter around her. He kept his gaze locked on Molly, who’d found an afghan and a small cardboard box and was creating a fort under a beat-up end table.

“Can she see me?” Laurel whispered, her voice thick with tears.

“She’s playing,” Garrett said.

Laurel trembled against him. Then a calmness flowed through her. She stood in his arms, soft, welcoming.

Comfort shifted to something more, something else. Something simmering beneath the surface. She cleared her throat and straightened, swiping at her wet cheeks. Through her lowered lashes, she looked up at him. “I’m okay now.”

He stroked a tear from her cheek. “You don’t have to be.”

She glanced over at Molly. “Yeah, I do.” Laurel pasted a smile on her face and strode over to Molly, hunkering down. “Whatcha doin’, Molly Magoo? Can I come in your fort?”

Garrett turned back to the half-made picnic lunch, thankful Laurel had crossed the room. She and Molly had reawakened his emotions, emotions he couldn’t afford to have.

He’d gone against his best instincts when he’d fallen in love with Lisa seven years ago. James had warned him, had told him that there would be secrets he could never tell his wife, lies he’d be forced to live. He’d even said there was a remote chance of danger from the enemy.

The enemy wasn’t who’d gotten him... He’d been framed by one of his own. Of that he was certain.

He snagged some bottled water and a juice box from the refrigerator, completing their lunch. “Ready, ladies?” he called out.

Molly scooted from under the blanket and ran across the room. She peered into the makeshift picnic basket Garrett had created using a box. “Cookies?” She blinked up at him, those baby blues innocent and hopeful.

“What’s a picnic without Hondo’s cookies?” Garrett said. “Can you take this?” he asked Laurel. She grasped the box and he strode into his room. He unlocked the closet and entered a combination into a hidden safe. Quickly, he pulled out his dad’s Remington.

He walked over to her. She tugged the box closer. “I’ll take this. I like your hands free. In case the big kitty shows up again.”

They walked out of the ranch house. The midday sun shone through a bright blue sky. Laurel gazed up. “I’ve never seen a color like that before.”

“Welcome to the desert,” Garrett said. “A little different from the East Coast, huh?”

“Considering they started today getting doused in snow, I’d say yes.”

Molly bent over and picked up a pinecone. “Ooh. Sticky,” she said, dropping it. She skipped around Garrett and Laurel, then ran a bit ahead.

“Molly,” Garrett said with a warning tone.

She stopped and turned. “Sorry.” She bowed her head and kicked a small rock.

“Just let me go first when we come to a thicket of trees,” he said.

“What’s a thicket?”

“A big group. Like right here.”

Garrett stepped into a small grove. He bent down. “See where the winter grass is bent over? An animal slept here sometime last night or this morning.”

He looked around and knelt beside a few tracks, two teardrops side by side. “Deer, probably mule deer in these parts.”

Molly crouched beside him. “You can tell that?”

“Everything and everyone makes its mark.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “Most everything can be traced or tracked. No one is invisible.”

“My job was to analyze data from sources no one can imagine,” Laurel said. “I know it’s difficult to hide. But not impossible.”

“Fair.” Garrett stood. “But if it were easy to hide, Ivy would never have found me at all.”

The admission didn’t come easy, but Laurel needed to understand how difficult her life was about to become.

“There’s a small pool nearby. We’ve had some rain this year, so it might be full.”

They climbed over some more craggy rocks to a granite outcropping. The sun had warmed the rock, and below, a large pool of water glistened in the light.

“Just the place for our picnic.”

He looked at the surroundings. Safe, and it was clear enough that he had a view where he could see anyone coming.

“Not exactly rolling hills,” Laurel said, sitting down with the small box holding their lunch.

“I want to sit by here,” Molly said, pointing at a small, flat rock.

“Just your size,” Garrett said.

“Nothing rolling or quaint about West Texas,” Garrett offered, pulling the sandwiches from the bag.

“It’s dramatic,” she admitted. “You can see forever.”

“I like this spot. I come here sometimes. To think. Nothing small about this land. About seventy-six miles that way is the border with Mexico. North fifty miles and you’re in New Mexico. On a clear day like today, you can see one hundred and fifty miles. Can’t do that on the coast.” He handed Molly a juice box.

“You miss D.C.?”

Garrett bit into his sandwich, swallowing past the lump in his throat, and considered his answer. “I miss the life I had.” He missed his family. Every day. He no longer wanted to die along with them. The need for revenge made a body fight. Just to make the guilty pay.

Laurel’s gaze fell to Molly. “I understand that. Going back will never be the same, will it?”

“Nothing is ever the same.”

Molly crossed her legs and gazed into the water. “Can I touch it?”

“It’s cold,” Garrett warned.

Molly tiptoed to the edge of the pool, squatted in front of it and dipped her hand into the water. She snatched it back with a yelp.

“I’m not swimming in there.” She raced back to Laurel and hugged her legs. “Too cold.”

“Molly, do you see this rock?” Garrett picked up a piece of dark granite.

“It sparkles.”

Molly’s eyes widened as the stone glittered in the sunlight. “Can I keep it to show my mommy when she comes back?”

“You can have it,” Garrett said, then lifted a familiar bag from the box.

Molly grinned. “Cookies?”

He set the treat aside. “Of course.”

Molly popped a cookie in her mouth. When she finished it off, her leg swung on the side of the rock. “Can I go ’sploring?”

Laurel started to shake her head, but Garrett interrupted, “We’ve made too much noise not to drive the animals away.” He turned to Molly. “Stay in sight. If you leave the clearing, we’ll have to go back to the house.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a nail in my eye,” Molly said, making a motion across her chest.

A chuckle escaped Garrett. She was so like his Ella. But so different, too. Molly jumped from the rock. She scampered to the edge of the clearing.

He folded Laurel’s hand in his. “She’ll be okay. I promise we’re making too much noise for the cougar to be interested,” he said.

“Bears?”

“Not here. Not enough vegetation and large animals.”

Laurel dropped her half-eaten sandwich in the box and stood. She watched Molly. “I’m scared for her.”

Garrett rose from the rock. “She’s a strong girl. She’s got a great aunt. You’ll both make it through this.”

“What if whoever killed Ivy gets away with it?”

Garrett couldn’t stop his teeth from grinding together. No way would he let that happen. Not while he still lived. But he couldn’t promise anything. The people after him had no morals, no conscience. If anyone got in their way, they killed them. And they didn’t care about the innocent ones who got hurt in the process.

He turned Laurel in his arms and stared into her eyes. “However this goes, I’ll make sure you and Molly find a way to be safe.”

Laurel lowered her lids. “They might get away with it.”

Garrett couldn’t deny the truth of her words. Instead, he tilted her chin up with his finger. His heart stuttered at her pain-filled gaze. She’d lost her sister, her brother-in-law, one niece and nephew, and she might have lost her father. She’d lost the life she once had. He wanted to make everything go away, but he might not be able to. “I won’t stop until I find them, Laurel.”

She shivered in his arms. He tugged her a bit closer, his gaze falling on Molly. The little girl had hunkered down, stacking pinecones. He wrapped Laurel in his arms, pulling her close, and rested his cheek against her hair. Her warmth seeped into his skin, even as the sun shone down on his face.

For one moment he could comfort her. She sighed, leaning against him. “I wish we could stay here forever and the rest of the world would stop,” she said.

Garrett closed his eyes, breathing in the fragrance of her hair. He turned and kissed her temple. Her arms tightened around his body. The comfort shifted into something more. Laurel tilted her head, her gaze stopping at his mouth. Garrett stilled, unable to stop the desire flaring just beneath the surface.

“I found a track, Sheriff Garrett,” Molly shouted.

Laurel stiffened in his arms. He sighed and touched his finger to her lips. “Sometime soon,” he promised. “When we can’t be interrupted.”

A pang of conscience needled the back of his neck. They were in danger and no one knew what was going to happen, but he couldn’t deny the pull between him and Laurel. He’d been so alone for so long. Having her in his arms made him...made him feel hope again.

She squeezed his hand, her gaze warm, her cobalt eyes flaring with a hidden fire. With a sigh of regret, he walked across the small clearing where Molly hunkered down just at the edge.

“What have you found, sugar?”

She pointed a few feet past the row of pines. Garrett stilled. The track was human.

He peered past the trees into a clearing. The remains of a campfire had been hastily shoved aside, but the ash and rocks used to surround the small flames couldn’t be mistaken.

Garrett’s hand hovered over his weapon. His voice soft and low, he reached out a hand. “Come on, Molly.”

“But I found a track.”

“And you did well, but we need to go.” He scooped her into his arms and strode away from the edge of the trees, one hand still inches from his weapon.

“What’d I do?” Molly whispered. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Laurel met him and he handed over the little girl. “What’s wrong?” Laurel pulled the girl to her. “Shh, Molly.”

“Company,” he said, his voice calm.

Her eyes widened and a line of tension drew her mouth.

Molly squirmed in her arms. “I’m scared.”

“Go back the way we came,” Garrett said. He tugged the Beretta from beneath his jacket. “You have your SIG?”

She nodded.

“Be ready.”

She shuffled Molly in her arms.

“Fire in the air if you see anything or anyone and then head back toward the ranch. I’ll catch you. Can you find it?”

She nodded, placing herself at the edge of the clearing, ready to bolt, her hand gripping the weapon.

Garrett pushed through the pines and studied the ground. There were at least two sets of shoes. He sifted the dirt. The fire’s remains were cold. They hadn’t been watching. The tension in his chest eased a bit.

He glanced over at Laurel. She stood alert, watching everything. She would protect Molly with her life. He didn’t like leaving them alone, but he needed to discover who these two people were. He followed the trail. The ground told many truths. One person fell, then scrambled to his feet. Garrett hit some granite rock and the trail vanished, but he picked it back up again on the other side.

Kneeling down, he studied the prints. “Who are you?”

Then he caught sight of a small impression. A kid’s sneaker.

Aah. Quietly, he topped a hill. Below, a man hurried his wife and son across the terrain. The guy looked at him, and Garrett knew he recognized the sheriff’s uniform, even without the star.

His face erupted in terror, but he didn’t pull a weapon. He shoved his wife and son behind him and stared up at Garrett.

Not a great place to cross the border. Especially with a family. Was a coyote nearby? Most of the men who made a living illegally bringing people across the border made Garrett’s stomach turn. They charged thousands of dollars to cross into the United States, and if their “customers” were lucky, the coyote got them to civilization. The unlucky ones ended up dead of thirst in the desert.

Garrett scanned the horizon, searching for signs of a coyote, but he didn’t see anyone.

With a quick nod to the man, he turned and hurried back toward the clearing. He had to get Laurel and Molly to safety.

They might end up much like that man and his family. Living under the radar.

Unless Garrett succeeded where he and James had failed for the past eighteen months.

Garrett shoved his Stetson on his head. Now, though, he had to succeed for more than just revenge—he had to succeed to protect two innocent lives.

He wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t.

* * *

LAUREL CARRIED MOLLY back into the cabin. Her niece was way too quiet. The little girl toyed with the collar Ivy had placed around the neck of her lion.

Garrett followed her in. “I’m canvassing the area once more. Lock the door behind me. I’ll knock three times when I get back. And keep the gun handy.”

“Shoot if someone else tries to get in,” Laurel said. “Got it.”

“Not if it’s me.” Garrett shut the door, putting the box of food on the floor.

Molly wiggled from Laurel’s arms. “I want to go into my fort,” she muttered. “I want Mr. Hairy Houdini to come with me.”

“Want me to play with you?”

The little girl whispered into her stuffed animal’s ear and shook her head, disappearing beneath the afghan.

Laurel sighed and put away the groceries, keeping a close eye on Molly.

Within a few minutes, the little girl was rubbing her eyes and yawning. It had been a tough few days. Not to mention just getting over strep throat.

Massaging her temple, Laurel scanned the room. They couldn’t stay here forever. The only way out was to find who was behind Ivy’s murder. And her father’s disappearance. And stop them.

Garrett knew more than he was revealing. She believed that, and she didn’t know who he was, really. That uneasy feeling at the base of her neck increased the urgency. She needed to do something. To protect Molly and herself. Not just for the moment, but for the future.

Laurel checked once more on her niece, but the little girl had zonked out.

Careful not to make any noise, she opened Garrett’s office door and walked inside. She propped the door open so she could hear Molly or anyone outside and turned the machines on.

She’d had an idea. Maybe, just maybe, it would work.

Growing up with her father’s ability to discover what his daughters were doing, Laurel had become adept at hiding her tracks. She’d joined the computer club at school. Yeah, it had helped her get into college, but more important, it had taught her a few tricks. Tricks that came in handy at her job, and that might come in even handier now.

She risked a lot doing this without Garrett here, but she had to try. It was her last chance or they’d have to go with Garrett’s plan.

She navigated to a portal leading into some of the intelligence organization’s unclassified databases.

When the log-in came up, she tapped her finger on the keyboard.

If she entered her information, she was starting a ticking clock. Eventually they would know she’d entered the system; they’d know what she discovered.

Garrett still hadn’t returned.

She took a deep breath. She had to take the chance.

Her finger trembled typing in the password.

She was in.

Glancing at the time on the computer screen, she quickly navigated to the travel database. Relatively low priority. She entered her father’s name.


Access denied.


Interesting. She backed out, this time searching for Ivy’s name, then hers. Finally, with her own name, she received a different screen.

Clicking on a link pulled up her personal data.


Status: Missing, presumed dead.


“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Her Christmas Hero

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