Sorcha plucked a diaper out, grabbed a box of baby wipes, a blanket, and a sleeper gown. “This way,” she said, leading me through the house. “That’s my dear daughter-in-law Bradley,” Sorcha said, motioning to the woman standing near the stove in the kitchen. “Bradley, this is Losha. I’ll let you two chat once she’s changed the baby.”
The woman smiled and waved. “Nice to meet you, Losha.”
My chest felt tight, not because they weren’t all very nice, but this was the kind of family I thought only existed in the books I’d read while Kazmir and I hid out in one European country after another. Reading made me both yearn for a family for Kazmir and not believe they existed.
“Bradley and Naughton’s wee one is just four months old, a boy they named Charlie.”
While I changed Kazmir’s diaper, Sorcha told me about the rest of her grandchildren, not that I’d remember, but it was pleasant to hear the woman speak so lovingly of her family.
“How old is Kazmir?” Sorcha asked.
“Just six months.”
“Same age as my granddaughter, Coco. She’s my son Maddox and his wife Alex’s bairn.” Sorcha cooed at the baby. “He’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I picked him up and nuzzled his sweet neck. “He’s a very happy baby.”
When my eyes met Sorcha’s, I recognized the longing. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Would make my heart so happy if you’d let me.”
I smiled and handed Kazmir to her. Rather than reaching back for me or crying because he was in the arms of a stranger, my baby cooed and smiled.
“Grandma Sorcha will give your mum a wee break so we can have a chat,” the woman babbled to Kazmir as they walked away.
“You’ll never get him back,” teased Bradley when I walked past the kitchen. “Although there’s no better grandmum in the world.”
“I believe it, even after a few minutes. Sorcha said you have a little boy too?”
Bradley smiled. “Charlie. Love of my life. He’s out with his father now, who is the other love of my life.”
Surrounded by a warm and welcoming family should calm me, if not make me happy. But it was the opposite, only serving to remind me that I had neither in my life, outside of Zary, whom I couldn’t continue to take advantage of. She and Gunner had been so generous, but if the bomb was nothing else, it was a terrifying reminder that we, and everyone around us, were in danger. I couldn’t expose Zary to it any longer. I had to leave as soon as I could make arrangements and it was safe to do so.
After a dinner during which I ate far too much, Burns led Kazmir, Zary, and me across a courtyard to a lovely cottage where he said one of his sons had lived before he got married.
It was sparsely furnished, like I imagined most men’s homes would be, but had warmth too.
“What is it with these guys and their bathrooms?” said Zary as she walked down the staircase to where I sat nursing Kazmir one last time before I put him down for the night.
“The one upstairs has the most amazing shower I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah?”
“Seriously, Losha. Wait until you see it. By the way, there are two cribs already set up. One is in the master bedroom and the other is in the room across from it. I took the room down the hall.”
“You can take the bigger room, I don’t mind.”
Zary rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. What do I care?”
I checked the time, wondering if Shiver would arrive sometime tomorrow or if he was still in England. Not knowing meant I had to act at the first opportunity. Once he got here, it would be harder to leave, both physically and emotionally.
“Zary, when you and Gunner were first together…was it difficult to accept his help when you wanted to leave UR?”
She laughed. “Actually, I begged him to help me. Although I know what you’re asking. It was harder for me to trust that he would do it my way, if that makes sense.”
I nodded. Both of us had been forced to be independent from a very young age—out of necessity.
“The harder part was trusting him with my mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“I knew Gunner would help me, protect me, at all costs, but I didn’t know if he’d do the same for my mother. That’s what I struggled with. Trusting him with another person.”
My fear exactly. I worried that Shiver wouldn’t understand that if anything happened to Kazmir, I would no longer have a reason to live. Would he protect my baby with his life in the same way I would? Would he make decisions about our safety without my consent? That, I wouldn’t be able to abide, regardless of how much he vowed to protect us.
It took me a minute to remember where I was when I opened my eyes to the sun streaming in through the window. Like the first morning I woke up in the house in Cambria, I was stunned by how well I’d slept. Kazmir was still sleeping soundly too.
I heard voices downstairs, but allowed myself to linger a little while longer in the warm cocoon of the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept in.
When I’d gone into the bathroom last night, I was astounded by what Zary had referred to as the most amazing shower she’d ever seen. Not only was the shower amazing, but there was what one might loosely refer to as a bathtub too.
The two-person jetted tub sat on the opposite side of the freestanding wall of a shower big enough that two or three people could stand in it. There was no shower head, but it looked as though water flowed from hundreds of pin-size openings in the ceiling. Should I take advantage of it, or the luxurious bath this morning?
I padded into the room, peeking at my sleeping baby on my way. Since I hadn’t had time to grab the baby monitor, or much else, when we fled the house in fear for our lives, I kept the door open, hoping I’d hear him if he woke up and cried.
Looking around for a way to turn the water on, I found what appeared to be a control panel. I pushed the on/off button, and it lit up. There was an icon to choose the bath or shower along with a water-temperature control. As I experimented with the other options, the patterns and pressure of the water flowing from the ceiling changed, as did the jets of the tub.
I couldn’t figure out what the second button called “heat” might be for, until I felt the tile warm beneath my feet.
If I were ever in the position of building a house and had an unlimited amount of money, I’d install a bathroom exactly like this one.
When I heard Kazmir fussing, I turned the water off and returned to the bedroom.
“Good morning, sweet baby boy,” I said, lifting him out of the crib and kissing his cheek. “I bet you’d rather eat before your bath.” I sat on the bed to let Kazmir nurse.
“Knock, knock,” said Zary from outside the bedroom door.
“Come in.”
“I heard the water going on and off, on and off,” Zary teased.
“I was just about to take advantage of it when this one woke up.”
“I can take him if you want. Sorcha is downstairs, making breakfast.”
“She is?”
“I think she was hoping to spend time with the baby more than you or me.”
I laughed. “She’s very sweet.”
Zary raised a brow.
“What?”
“I’ve heard stories to the contrary.”
“Really? I’m intrigued.”
“I bet if we asked, we could get her to tell us about her days as an intelligence operative.”
As I shifted Kazmir off my breast, he fussed a little but stopped before it turned into a full-blown tantrum. When we got downstairs and he saw Sorcha’s outstretched arms, he smiled.
“Come see your grandmum, wee baby boy,” she said, taking him from my arms.
Zary and I looked at each other and smiled.
“Bradley said you were the best grandmum in the world.”
“Aye, lass, I am. Isn’t that right?” she answered without taking her eyes off the baby.
“We were hoping you’d tell us a story of your
days in the intelligence business,” said Zary.
“Oh, goodness. I’m not sure the bairn would enjoy stories like that.”
“Tell us how you met Burns. He’ll like that story.”
“I knew the minute I laid eyes on him that he was the one for me. I was in Ramstein hospital. ’Twas Burns that saved my life, although I dinnae ken until several days after the fact.”
Sorcha sat at the table and bounced Kazmir on her lap. “I’d infiltrated the Provisional Irish Republican Army—most know it as the IRA. I was there on Bloody Friday, at the Oxford Street bus station.” Sorcha showed us the scarring on her left arm. “I survived with these, and more on my back, but worse, we lost two agents in the blast.”
I knew the story of the infamous day. A total of twenty-four bombs were planted in and around the city of Belfast by the IRA, killing nine and injuring well over a hundred. At least seventy of those severely injured were civilian women and children.
“In a little over an hour, those bastards turned Belfast into a war zone,” Sorcha told us. “The bombs had been detonating that long when SIS got the intel that a warning had been sent to the Royal Ulster Constabulary about another bomb scheduled to detonate at Oxford Street, the busiest bus station in all of Northern Ireland.” Sorcha shook her head. “The two we lost refused to evacuate and were searching for the bomb when it went off.” She stood and walked over to the window. “But you asked me about Burns, didn’t you?”
Zary and I both nodded.
“He was part of the team the agency sent in via heli. ’Twas him that carried me away from the blast.”
“How did you end up in Ramstein?”
“He insisted I be transported there. I almost died several times due to infection, lass. If I had stayed in Belfast, it would’ve killed me if the IRA didn’t first.”
“Your cover was blown.”
“Aye,” said Sorcha, nodding. “He saved my life in more ways than one.” She patted my hand. “That’s enough about that.”
“Gunner saved my life more than once,” said Zary with tears in her eyes. “Sorry.”
“Why on earth are you sorry, lass?” Sorcha asked.
“Pregnancy hormones,” Zary answered, fanning her face. “I’ve never cried so much in my life.”
Sorcha reached over and patted her hand too. “’Tis how women like us know.”
“What do you mean?”
The woman nodded at Zary and then smiled at me. “There was only one man I trusted to protect me more than I could’ve on my own.”
That may be true for Zary and Gunner and Sorcha and Burns, but that didn’t make it true for Shiver and me.
“Let him in, lass. Let him take care of you,” Sorcha said, making me wonder how the woman knew my thoughts.
“That’s what I’ve told her,” added Zary.
“You should listen to us,” said Sorcha, standing to finish making breakfast with Kazmir in her arms.
“I’m so full,” said Zary, rubbing her tummy after we’d finished breakfast and Sorcha left.
“Me too. What would you think about a walk in the vineyard?”
“I’d love it.”
I went upstairs to grab the jacket that Bradley had lent me before we left the main house last night and to put Kazmir in one of the adorable outfits Sorcha and Burns’ daughter had brought for him.
When I pulled a dark-green jacket out of the pile of clothes, Kazmir squealed.
“You like this?”
The baby waved his arms and squealed some more. He was such a happy baby, but more so since we’d arrived here the night before. Probably, like me, he was basking in the glow of love the family gave so easily. Would my love be enough for him after this? I shook my head. What choice did I have? It wasn’t as though I could create an instant family for him. We would have to be enough for each other.
“Ready?” asked Zary from the hallway.
I wiped away my tears and plucked Kazmir out of the crib where I’d put him while I changed into some of the other clothes that had miraculously shown up here for me.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Zary asked when we reached the top of a crest in the vineyards. From there we had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of Butler Ranch as well as the surrounding ranches, all the way west to the Pacific Ocean.
“It isn’t always this clear,” said Burns, walking up from the other direction. “You picked a good day.” He turned and took in the whole view like we had. “’Twas a perfect place for Sorcha and me to raise our family.”
“How many children do you have?” I asked.
“Four boys and two girls,” he beamed, counting on his fingers. “And five grandchildren, plus two more on the way.”
“You and Sorcha are blessed.”
“We are. As are you.” Burns held his finger out, and Kazmir grasped it. “You hold the meaning of life in your arms. Whenever you find yourself forgetting, look into your wee one’s eyes, and you’ll remember.”
“Thank you, Burns, for bringing us here. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“You are welcome here anytime, my dear. I’m heading back to the house now. Walk with me?”
21
Shiver
“Pinch, we need to talk about Darrow, but please let me finish what I have to say before commenting.”
The man, who felt more like my brother than the son of a hired hand at the estate or an MI6 subordinate, nodded.
“The duchess is having a problem with the idea of a relationship between the two of you. She made mention that if it continued, she’d have to let your father go.”
Pinch nodded a second time.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“She told me the same thing.”
“I want you to know that, while I have no intention of either suggesting you end the relationship or allowing my mother to take her frustration out on your father, I still caution you that the duchess may, then, make Darrow the target of her ire.”
“Understood.”
“I’m going to ask a question that you don’t have to answer.”
“Go on, then.”
“How serious are the two of you?”
Pinch turned his head and looked out the window.
I waited. I’d told Pinch he didn’t have to answer, and perhaps he wouldn’t.
When he hesitated, I guessed he was struggling with what to say.
“It’s very new, Shiv. I care about her. I always have…”
“I sense there’s more.”
Pinch chuckled. “You know your sister.”
“Tell me what’s concerning you besides the duchess.”
“You cannot share this with Darrow.”
“Never.”
“I have wondered whether the allure of the forbidden is playing a bigger role between us than it should.”
I nodded. If Pinch’s instincts were telling him that was the case, then he was likely right, at least partially.
“Can you give me the rundown of what your plan is after we land?” Pinch asked.
I welcomed the change of subject.
“We’re flying into Los Angeles where we’ll rent separate cars and drive to the Central Coast.” I’d received an update from Merrigan saying that Burns Butler had taken the women to Butler Ranch rather than having them drive south to Montecito and risk being intercepted on the way.
I’d also heard from Rivet, who told me he was back from Germany and had made contact with United Russia. They denied any involvement, citing the deal they’d made just last November. Given UR stood to lose over a billion dollars if SIS and the CIA suggested their governments issue sanctions, it did seem unlikely that they would pull a stunt like planting the bomb.
Besides, what reason would they have to go after either Losha or Zary at this point? The two had quietly left UR’s employ and were making a life for themselves that didn’t involve the intelligence community.
However, if it wasn’t UR, who would’ve planted the bomb? Unfortunately,
I couldn’t narrow the suspects to a short list. The possibilities were endless.
“What of the bomb?” asked Pinch.
“It was successfully diffused, although it had been scheduled to detonate at three in the morning, not triggered by Losha’s entry to the house or the basement.”
“There would be a signature, then.”
“Perhaps, although anyone can gain knowledge to build a bomb from the internet.” I was in great favor of regulation of the medium, however far-fetched that notion might be.
“What comes next?”
That was dependent on how much control Losha would relinquish to me. My intention was to take her and the baby somewhere I believed they’d be safe while both the CIA and SIS tried to figure out who had planted the bomb.
The plan was relatively simple; however, the notion of Losha blindly going along with what I wanted was even less likely than an internet regulation.
“Any word on the K19 team?”
“None.”
“Protection is in place, though, no?”
“Few better than Burns.”
“I’ve heard he’s a legend.”
“What’s more is that in Burns’ case, the stories haven’t been exaggerated.”
Pinch and I spent the next hour sharing what we’d heard about the former CIA agent who had yet to have an equal in making an op look as though it had never happened.
As far as the technology of intelligence, even SIS had consulted with Burns. And it wasn’t just Doc’s father who had been a CIA rock star; his mother, Sorcha, was a former operative and medic responsible in part for bringing an end to a decades-long war between United Russia and their nemesis organization, the Maskhadovs.
“Talk about a pedigree,” commented Pinch.
“Very true. What’s most shocking is that Doc has five other siblings who believed their parents were merely vineyard owners and winemakers. Most of them followed in those footsteps. Only Doc went into intelligence.”
“I hope I get to meet Burns and Sorcha.”
I smiled. “Oh, you will.”
Since Zary had called about the bomb, I’d been without sleep for twenty-four hours straight. If Losha and I turned around and left the States like I wanted to, it would be another twenty before I could rest.
The Duke and the Assassin (The Royal Agents of MI6 Book 1) Page 10