Читать книгу A Man Of Honor - Tina Leonard - Страница 12

“Who is it?” Tessa called as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. Running a fast hand over her hair, she cautiously waited at the door. Who could be knocking this late at night?

“It’s Cord, Tessa.”

Her heart plummeted with dread the moment she heard his deep voice. There was only one reason Cord would show up on her doorstep without calling, only one mission that would bring him to her house despite the hour.

Hunt. She’d been fearing the worst, and clearly, the news Cord had about his brother was too serious for a phone call. Swallowing tightly, she opened the door to stare at him.

His darkly handsome face was drawn and worried. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped back, drawing her robe tightly around her with fingers that clenched the soft velour lapels for nervous support.

Closing the door behind him, he said, “Tessa—”

“Cord. Please. Just tell me. Don’t try to spare me.” She was speaking too fast, but Tessa couldn’t stand the tension knotting her insides.

“Two men came to my house tonight. They claimed they had news about Hunt, but…” He squinted at her as he considered his next words. “I had the strangest hunch they were really looking for you.”

“Looking for me?” She sank into an overstuffed chair covered with a bright tropical fabric and motioned Cord to sit in the wicker chair across from her.

“Their story was that they had come to tell me Hunt was dead.”

“Oh, no!” Even though she expected the worst, hearing it shattered her. Tears instantly burned her eyes.

“Wait.” He held up a hand. “Tessa, I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something off about their story.”

“What do you mean?” She could barely push her voice through her stiff lips. Her entire body seemed frozen, unable to move.

He got up, moving pantherlike to look out every window in the den of the small, three-bedroom house. What he thought he might see in the darkness, Tessa didn’t know.

“They had ID. They had the right uniform. They almost said the right words. Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Almost, if I wasn’t already inclined to be cautious because of Hunt’s work. Almost, if they hadn’t followed up their song-and-dance routine by asking me where to find you.”

She shook her head, puzzled, trying to follow Cord’s words and yet unable to think through the blinding haze of sadness.

“They said they wanted to inform you that Hunt had died an honorable death while on a sensitive assignment. You know, the usual clichés.”

Pain flowed through her every nerve ending at hearing the blunt words. “But if you don’t believe them—if you think they were really looking for me…” Panic rose inside her. “Are you suggesting someone wants to use me to flush Hunt out?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to get ahead of myself before I get some answers out of the military.”

He waved a hand dismissively but not with much emphasis, and Tessa realized he was exhausted. Her gaze sought the clock; it was nearly midnight. Cord would have gotten up at about four in the morning to check on his cattle. “You’re tired,” she murmured.

Cord sent her a sharp, assessing glance. “I’m not tired.”

She knew better. “Did you just find out?”

He shook his head.

“Why did you wait so late to come tell me?” He studied her, every inch of her, and Tessa’s eyes widened under his scrutiny. “Tell me. I have to know everything.”

“I told them I didn’t know where you were.” He hesitated, watching her. “I didn’t want them to follow me here.”

“Oh.” Tessa felt something inside her begin to unravel. Her strength, perhaps. After all the months of worry about Hunt, Cord was trying to tell her as gently as possible that not only were they not going to find out that Hunt was alive, but also that the worries were about to intensify. Unconsciously, she ran a soothing hand over her rounded stomach. Somehow, somehow I will take care of this child. I will not be afraid.

When Cord’s weight suddenly filled the space beside her, Tessa felt her eyes begin to overflow. He put his arms around her in the most unobtrusive, supportive way—and she allowed her head to sink against his broad chest. “I have to hear everything you’re thinking.”

“Not tonight you don’t. I can worry for both of us tonight, and in the morning, when the shock wears off some, I’ll fill in the rest of my hunch. Possibly I’ll have more concrete information then.”

“All right.” She had no strength left to insist. All her strength was needed to nurture the child growing inside her.

“I want you to come stay at the ranch tonight.”

She jerked away from the warm shelter of his arms. “Why?”

“I’d just feel better if you did.”

She sensed something deeper, something hidden in his request. “There’s no need to worry about me. I’m fine here.” The watchful depth in his granite eyes struck her. “You’re not telling me you think I’m still in danger, are you?”

The near hysterical question hung between them.

“You told them you didn’t know where I am! How would they find me?”

Cord stood, picked up his hat, settled it on his head. He gave her one long stare that shook her with its protective purpose. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to stay in my house, but I think you should go to your mother’s, at least. My gut tells me you shouldn’t be alone.”

What exactly was his concern—her safety or her sanity? “My mother’s house is not an option,” she snapped, angered because he knew as well as anyone that her mother was disgusted by her free-wheeling relationship with Hunt Greer. He’s never going to marry you. You’re making a fool of yourself, running all over the world after him. You just wait, Tessa Draper. You’re going to find yourself right back here in Crookseye alone and that spy boyfriend of yours will never remember your name.

The memory of her mother’s harsh words made Tessa shiver despite the velour robe she wore. Since July, when Hunt had disappeared, she’d worked in Dallas at a friend’s shop. That employment ended when her friend had to close her business. Now more than seven months pregnant, Tessa had decided to come back to the tiny house she owned, to spend the remaining days of her pregnancy in quiet solitude.

She had no place else to go. It was doubtful anyone would hire her at this late stage in her pregnancy. It would be peaceful, at least, in her little house in Crookseye Canyon.

So she’d thought.

Periodically, Cord had called to check on her unobtrusively. She knew he hoped his brother would return to her safely. This apparently was not to be the case, and now the months of waiting had come to a disturbing resolution.

“If you get your things, I’ll carry them to the truck. The snow’s getting deeper, so wear boots and warm clothes.”

Tessa tensed as Cord’s gaze flicked to her melon-size stomach, not quite hidden beneath her robe, the months of her pregnancy no longer quite as camouflaged by her height. She knew he was right. The Greer ranch was a large spread, the house much nicer than her cottage. There would be more warmth there than in her poorly insulated cottage. There would also be security, and that was Cord’s intent. To conceal that, he was trying to keep her focused on mundane tasks, on everyday, normal, routine life like packing warm clothes. Cord couldn’t know that even the snow was a painful reminder. There had been no snow in Spain when she’d last seen Hunt. It had been pleasantly warm, a flirtatious day of laughter and happiness in a seaside café and…

Tessa bowed her head for an instant. Cord was worried for her safety, and because of his brother, he was determined to protect her.

The secret she held inside made her feel that she was taking advantage of Cord’s protective caring. On that last day in Spain, she had been in wonder at her pregnancy—and abjectly torn because she knew she didn’t want to marry Hunt.

She loved him, but the minute she’d learned about the baby, her whole outlook on life had changed. She’d grown up, matured with shattering clarity. She wanted for her child what she had never had. Security. Love. A childhood free of worry. She had decided to tell Hunt she was returning home. For good.

“What makes you think they wouldn’t look for me at your house?” she asked softly, forcing herself to focus on the present.

He shrugged. “First off, I’m just going with my instincts tonight, Tessa. I don’t know that they weren’t telling the truth. I just didn’t feel that they were.” He rubbed a palm over his chin in a scrubbing motion. “All I do know is that if some stooges are looking for you, they can find you here and they can find you at my place. But they’ll also find me—and my father’s prized collection of rifles, any one of which has a sight on it that can target a deer’s tiniest hair at hundreds of paces.”

Great. She’d never even held a gun, much less needed anyone to protect her with one. Tessa reluctantly rose to her feet. Hunt had said many times that if anything happened to him, Cord would look after her. She had taken his statement to indicate his strong feelings about their relationship. Despite Hunt’s top-secret job, she had always felt secure with him on many levels.

Faster than a lightning strike, he’d disappeared, leaving her alone in Spain. With worry, with doubt, with fear.

Tonight, his brother wanted to protect her.

For the sake of her child, she had no other choice.

“I AM FREEZING MY ASS OFF,” the short man complained. “Do we have to squat in this tree house all night?”

“Until the cowboy comes back.” The tall, quiet man lowered night-vision goggles. “No one goes out at midnight without a reason.”

“He could be looking at his cows. Stinking cows. I hate stupid cows, and I hate this cold!”

“You hate everything.” Vehicle headlights in the distance caught his attention, and he lifted the goggles back up to his face. “Mira.”

Rossi, his short companion, hunkered down beside him, squinting intently into the darkness at the ranch house. “Señor Vaquero is back?”

“Sí.” The word was rich with satisfaction. “And Sñnor Cowboy has the missing lady with him.” Lowering the glasses, Salvador chuckled, pleased with this new move. “Fácil. What an easy game this is going to be.”

THE BITTER FEBRUARY COLD melted away as soon as they walked inside Cord’s sturdy, five-bedroom house. There were plenty of rooms for the two of them to spread out and feel comfortable in separately, he told himself. Having Tessa under his roof would give him peace of mind on one level; on another more primal level, he would burn in a physical hell. The torment was necessary if he wanted to assure himself of her safety. For Hunt, Cord would face his own demons. And for Tessa and the unborn niece or nephew she carried inside her. Duty called a man in different forms. He would answer this call although the cost would be painful.

She stood in the center of the living room, watching him set down the hastily packed overnight bag he didn’t want her carrying. Her face was strained, her blue eyes so big in her pale face that Cord instantly wanted to hold her. Wanted to comfort her. The words, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on,” sat on his tongue like a rock, never to be spoken.

The burning began.

“Let me show you to your room.” Gruffly, he motioned her to follow him down the hall.

His room, Hunt’s room—not the right place to put her in case Hunt never returned—two smaller rooms and then a final room that could be used for housing help on the ranch since it had a separate bathroom all its own. The walls were sunshine-yellow, painted many years ago by his mother. There was an old four-poster and a nightstand of oak. A brass lamp sat unlit on the nightstand.

“I guess it’s not much,” he said reluctantly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replied too quickly. “It’s…if you can show me where the sheets are, I’ll make the bed. I’m tired and I know you could use some sleep.”

He doubted he could sleep. Not with Hunt missing or dead, not with Tessa in his house. Silently, he reached into the hall linen closet and pulled out some white sheets that he handed to her. “Towels are in here, grub’s in the kitchen. I hope you’ll make yourself as at home as possible, Tessa. I’m not a very good host and wouldn’t know when you might be hungry.”

“I can find the kitchen,” she assured him. “Right now, I just want to change and go to bed.”

“Good night, then.” He backed away from her. She waited for him to disappear down the hall, so he did, feeling slightly as if he’d escaped a desperately awkward moment. Sighing, he went to stoke up a fire in the fireplace. Outside, the wind howled like a coyote looking for its mate. The eerie sound sent prickles along his arms. He stoked the fire harder, sending flames shooting up the chimney. He heard Tessa close her door. With a deep sigh, he put the poker down and threw himself into the leather recliner in front of the fireplace where he’d been dozing before the strangers came to inform him of the death of his brother, which they so greatly regretted telling him.

Just before they’d asked about Tessa.

Do military personnel stand on the porch to tell you you’ve lost your brother—or do they ask to come inside to deliver the bad news? Do fiancées make it on the regret-to-inform-you list? Maybe Hunt had listed Tessa on some paperwork as a next of kin, but Cord had a feeling that wasn’t likely. His brother hadn’t been one to settle down or to think long term, particularly about women—not even Tessa. It had been a relationship of fun and easy attachment, though Hunt certainly cared deeply for Tessa, more than any other woman he’d ever known. But not enough to make it to the finish line of marriage. It just wasn’t Hunt’s way.

The whole incident seemed surreal, out of place. It rankled in his mind like a cocklebur, raising question after question. Tomorrow he would call the base to find out where he could get some honest answers.

He focused his gaze on the hot, crackling fire. As the wind shrieked outside, he waited.

For morning.