Special Assignment: Baby

by Debra Webb

  She lifted her chin defiantly. “Why should I? You’re still planning to leave. I don’t want my son to be hurt the way you hurt me.”

  Her words twisted the knife of regret already buried deeply in his chest. “You think I would do anything to hurt my own child?”

  Her eyes gave him her answer. Yes. Yes, she did. He shook his head. How could she think that? “Then you don’t know me at all.”

  “I know you, Court Brody, too well,” she argued, stepping closer, her anger shoring up her courage. “I know you better than you know yourself. You’ve run from your past your entire adult life. You’re not going to stop now, not for me or for Ryan. Don’t let the urge to possess what you think simple biology makes yours slow you down. I don’t want Ryan to become attached to you, and then have you walk out on him like you did me. You have to earn the right to be a father. You should know that better than anyone.”

  Court looked away. He hadn’t run. He just hadn’t wanted to be here. He’d left because he hated the place. His life was somewhere else. And how could she compare him to his father? He was nothing like his old man. Nothing at all. Except he’d hurt the people who cared about him most. His own mother, when he, like his older brothers, refused to stay in Montana. And Sabrina, when he’d left her behind. Maybe he was like his father. Dammit. But she hadn’t given him the chance to prove he could do better.

  “You should have given me the opportunity,” he said, countering her accusations. He had rights. “You couldn’t have known how I would react.”

  “I wasn’t willing to take the risk,” she replied. “I might take chances with my own heart, but I won’t do it with Ryan’s.”

  The baby made a sound, something between a sigh and a whine. In spite of the emotions churning inside him, Court smiled at the sound. This was his son. “I want to hold him.” He held out his arms. “Please.”

  Hesitation slowed her. Court could see the doubt in her eyes, but she passed the baby to him, anyway. Ryan squirmed, peering up at the stranger holding him. Court was certain the child would break out into a fit of crying, but he didn’t. He blinked, his little lids heavy. Maybe he was too sleepy to put up a fuss. Or maybe he was just curious. His eyes were gray just like Court’s. His hair a little darker, but not much. Ryan touched Court’s face with chubby fingers and Court’s heart shuddered. This was his son.

  The notion that Ferguson had come anywhere near this house, near his son, and Sabrina, shifted something dark and primal inside Court. His arms tightened around the child, making him fuss and squirm.

  Sabrina reached for her baby, the same uncertainty warring inside Court clear in her eyes. “I should put him to bed now and check on Charlie. Ryan’s usually asleep by now,” she explained when Court hesitated.

  Court relinquished his hold on his son, knowing that Sabrina was right. “I’ll just be outside,” he told her as she hurried from the room. From him.

  Weak with the receding adrenaline that accompanied tonight’s discoveries, Court walked out onto the porch and sat down on the top step. He peered up at the clear sky and the stars shining brightly down and wondered how everything could look the same when nothing was. The crescent moon winked at him from amid the brilliant stars.

  He had a son. He did the math again. A son who was fifteen months old and didn’t know his father. Fury lashed anew within him. How could she keep his child a secret from him for more than a year? Didn’t she know that he would never walk out on his responsibilities? Court surveyed all that lay before him. The realization that Sabrina had suffered through childbirth alone, through hanging on to this ranch by the skin of her teeth mocked him, and all along he could have helped her. Could have been there for her when Ryan was born.

  But she hadn’t given him that chance. When they’d made love this morning, he’d felt closer to her than any other human being on earth, and yet she had held this secret from him. How did she plan to survive trying to run this ranch alone and raising their child? Did she trust him so little that she would endure anything to keep the truth from him?

  Sabrina stepped out onto the porch to face Court’s wrath. Whatever he had to say to her, she doubted it would be good. She hadn’t missed the accusing look in his eyes. She had expected it. And maybe even deserved it a little. But she’d done what she did to protect her son…and Court to an extent. He had been adamant about leaving Montana once and for all. Telling him about Ryan would only have made him feel obligated to stay.

  “They’re both asleep,” she announced as she paused at the railing and leaned against it, keeping a safe distance from the man staring out at nothing at all.

  “When you made love with me this morning,” he began, his gaze somewhere in the distance, his voice strangely emotionless, “when we held each other afterward, how could you not tell me the truth?” He lifted his gaze to hers then, and she saw the devastation she had caused. Her heart bled at the sight. “I risked my cover—my life—by telling you the truth. And still, you kept my son from me.”

  A burst of anger shored up her waning courage. “If I’d called you up a couple of months after you left and said, hey, guess what, I’m pregnant, would you have come running back here?” She shook her head before he could answer. “I don’t think so. You didn’t want any part of this place. You still don’t. This is my home, Ryan’s home. If you don’t want any part of the place, how can you want us?”

  Ire flickered in his smoky eyes. “I had a right to know. You were wrong to keep him from me, Brin. Don’t try to pretend you don’t realize that. Admit it,” he demanded.

  She folded her arms over her middle. “Maybe I was wrong, but it was the decision I made based on what I knew about you.”

  He pushed to his feet, his posture rigid. “That’s a copout if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “You weren’t here, Court. You don’t have a clue what I went through then or how I made my decisions.”

  He stepped up onto the porch, closer to her. “That’s right, I wasn’t here. Because you didn’t give me that chance. You took it away from me to punish me for leaving.”

  Disbelief, so profound, flooded her; she couldn’t speak for a full five seconds. “Punish you? Get real, Court. I had survival on my mind. I sure as hell didn’t have time to worry about how I could get back at you.” Or had she? The question came from so deep inside her that it made her jerk with surprise. She hadn’t purposely set out to punish Court…had she? Had some small part of her wanted to keep Ryan a secret in hopes of kicking Court in the teeth with the revelation some day? Sabrina suddenly remembered thinking those very words just recently, but she couldn’t have consciously decided that back then. Too much was going on in her life.

  She glared at him. He was putting all the blame on her and ignoring his own actions. “Besides, if you’d stuck around a little while you would have known.”

  It always came down to him leaving. She knew it. And so did he.

  “It’s my fault. I left, so I guess that means that I lost the right to my son?”

  Sabrina wanted to shout “that’s right,” but it wasn’t that simple. He was trying to break it down to an un-complicated decision and that just wasn’t the case.

  “It wasn’t that simple,” she argued. “Don’t try to put words in my mouth.”

  He moved closer still. The memory of his intimate touch, of the way he’d made love to her before daylight, made her hot and restless. She wanted to back up a step, but her body wouldn’t let her.

  “We could argue this point all night,” he said quietly, his tone suddenly calm. “But it’s not getting us anywhere and I have to get back to the compound before Ferguson comes looking for me.”

  “He knows you’re here?” None of them would be safe with that man lurking about.

  “He saw me leave with Charlie. I can guarantee you he’s madder than hell because I messed up his little plans for tonight. I have to get back and run interference. He might go to Neely with his suspicions.”

  That thought sent a chill sp
iraling through Sabrina. “What are you going to do? Are you sure it’s safe to go back?” The possibility of Court being hurt scared her to death.

  “I have to go back.”

  He wasn’t answering her question. A bad sign. “Is it safe for you to go back?” she repeated.

  He hesitated. “Probably. At least for now.”

  A tiny sprout of relief took root near her heart. “What if he comes here looking for you again?”

  “You won’t be here,” Court explained. “I want you to take Charlie and Ryan to the Lonesome Pony. Tell Austin I sent you.”

  “The Lonesome Pony?” She frowned her confusion. Why would she go there? How did Court know Mr. Austin?

  “Trust me, Brin. You go there tonight and stay there until this is over.”

  “But what if Charlie won’t go?” she asked, suddenly remembering the grim reality that he didn’t listen to her anymore.

  “If Charlie gives you one millisecond of trouble, you call Austin and tell him to come pick him up.”

  She shook her head, completely bewildered now. “What’s Austin got to do with this?”

  “I can’t explain. Just do as I say. Austin will keep the three of you safe until this is over. He knows what’s going down. I’ve already talked to him,” Court assured her.

  Court was going back to the compound alone. Neely, Ferguson and all those faithful followers would be against Court if any of them suspected…

  “Who’s going to protect you?”

  Court gave her one of those lopsided smiles. “I can take care of myself.”

  Panic twisted inside her. “Don’t go back, Court. I’m afraid for you.” Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to him. No matter that he likely hated her now that he knew her secret. She loved him.

  She loved him.

  The words echoed through her soul. She didn’t want him to be hurt.

  “I have to go back.” He fixed her with a gaze that gave nothing of his own feelings away. “We’ll settle this when I return. Ryan is my son. I want him in my life.”

  Sabrina could only nod. A mixture of fear, panic and pain had a stranglehold on her ability to speak.

  “Keep your rifle handy, just in case,” he suggested, hesitance and uncertainty flickering in his gaze. “Can I see him one more time before I go? I mean, if it’s all right. I just want to see him.”

  Feeling as if she were in a kind of shock, Sabrina led the way to the first-floor bedroom. The one her parents had always used. Ryan’s crib sat in the far corner. The lamp on the bedside table cast a dim glow over the room. Court stood next to her, his gaze never leaving his son. Emotion slipped down her cheeks in warm, salty rivulets.

  “Can I kiss him good-night?”

  Without meeting Court’s gaze, Sabrina quietly lowered the side rail so that he could reach his son. Her baby lay sleeping on his tummy. His sweet face turned toward them. His silky hair dark against the yellow sheets.

  Court leaned down and gently kissed his son’s soft head. Sabrina’s heart squeezed at the sight. Dear God, had she made a mistake?

  If so, she could only hope that Court would not make her pay for that mistake now.

  Surely he would not demand custody of his son. But he could. Financially, her life was falling apart. Every day the ranch fell more deeply into disrepair. And Charlie was practically a juvenile delinquent. But Sabrina knew he was just acting out against all he’d suffered in his life. Losing his father, and then his mother. Sabrina was all he’d had. And tonight, with his outburst, she’d realized why he resented Ryan so very much. Charlie saw Ryan as taking the only family he had left away from him. Somehow she had to make her brother see that she loved them both.

  Court turned to her then, his eyes void of any emotion at all, his voice empty when he spoke. “Do exactly what I told you, Brin. I’ll be back when I can.”

  Then he left.

  Sabrina stared at the door.

  Court would never forgive her for keeping Ryan from him.

  Never.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE MOMENT COURT entered the compound gate, he knew something was wrong. The place was eerily quiet. Though it was after dark, it wasn’t that late. Not past lockdown. Other than the guard at the gate and his Uzi, nothing moved. Court parked his truck and slid from behind the wheel. The observation towers, he noted as he scanned the area, were manned with one guard as usual. He reached for the weapon beneath his seat and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. There was no way to know what Ferguson had done since he left or to know what he might have told Neely.

  But Court would deal with the situation one step at a time. If he lived long enough. He’d been in the business too long to take his next breath for granted.

  As he strode toward the training center a sound from the meeting hall snagged his attention. He stilled, listening. He could just make out the sound of applause, cheers and shouts. The lights were on in the building, sending bright rectangles of golden light into the dark night. There hadn’t been a rally planned for tonight as far as Court could recall. But obviously something had come up.

  Slowly, being careful to note any other sound or movement around him, Court headed in the direction of the meeting hall. The closer he got, the louder the thundering applause and savage war cries. Bracing himself for whatever he had to face, Court eased the door open and slipped inside.

  The hall was filled to capacity. Standing room only. Men, women and children were standing, cheering and clapping at Neely’s every pause. The sounds reverberated inside Court, edging his tension to a higher level.

  “We shall end the oppression. Tomorrow is the beginning,” Neely boomed from the podium.

  Another exhilarated roar rolled over the excited crowd. Tomorrow? Court studied Neely and several of the lieutenants who stood near him. What the hell was going on tomorrow? Had something new developed in the hour or so he’d been gone? A disturbing feeling crept into Court’s gut. Maybe he was the new development.

  A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder. Court went rigid with expectation. He turned to face what would no doubt be one or more of the guards.

  “Where the hell have you been, buddy?” Raymond shouted over the revelry of the crowd. “I’ve been watching for you to get back for almost an hour. Then the rally started and I had to come inside. We gotta go up there.” He nodded toward the stage where Neely and the rest of the leaders stood.

  Without giving Court the opportunity to ask questions or to even respond, Raymond headed toward the front of the hall. Court followed, weaving through the throng of worked-up militia members. Whatever was about to go down, Court had a very bad feeling that he wasn’t going to like it.

  Ferguson glanced in Court’s direction when he stepped in next to Raymond. Court held the man’s gaze for several seconds, but read nothing in his eyes. When Ferguson turned back to the crowd before them, a smile had widened across his face. Court couldn’t be sure if the smile was about him or simply for the onlookers.

  “With these more powerful weapons we will fight the oppressors for the rights of our brothers,” Neely promised his faithful onlookers. “We will finally stand up against those who would tell us how we will live on our own land.”

  A chorus of heartfelt agreement echoed through the hall.

  “Now,” Neely continued, the one word bringing absolute silence to the room, “at dawn our shipment of arms will arrive….”

  Court tensed. At dawn? Fahey wasn’t supposed to deliver the goods until day after tomorrow.

  “I need twelve good, strong men in addition to my lieutenants who are prepared to make this journey with us.” He held up his hand to stay the overenthusiastic crowd. “I cannot in good conscience accept volunteers without first warning you that this mission, though vital to the cause, is very dangerous. Do not volunteer to go with us unless you are prepared to die for the cause.”

  Members surged forward, pressing against the stage, crying out for N
eely’s attention. Court scanned the faces of those who showed their readiness to follow Neely into death if necessary. Court had to find a way to get word to Austin. He couldn’t let this buy go down with no backup.

  “Lieutenants—” Neely turned to face the men on his right “—each of you shall choose one man to accompany our team this night. We must leave in a few short hours.” He stepped away from the podium, an unspoken command to begin.

  As each man passed on his way off the stage, Neely shook his hand, embracing some as if they were about to go off to war. When Court reached him, Neely smiled.

  “Brother Brody.”

  Court clasped his hand. “Joshua.”

  Neely pulled Court into a tight embrace. Court forced his body to relax completely, so as not to give away his mounting tension.

  “Are you prepared to die for me, Court?” Neely murmured.

  Court drew back and looked the man squarely in the eyes. “I’m prepared to do whatever you need me to do, Joshua.”

  One of those charismatic, politician-type smiles slid across Neely’s face. “I have complete faith, Brother Brody, that you will, in fact, do just that.”

  Uncertain as to whether Neely’s words carried some hidden meaning, Court moved on, allowing the lieutenant behind him to receive Neely’s blessing. Once Court had descended from the stage, he scanned the expectant faces around him. He had to choose a man from this mob, one whose life might be lost if there was trouble at dawn. The whole exchange could go down without a glitch. But there was no way to be sure. Somehow Court had to get word to Austin that the deal was going down ahead of schedule.

  Clydus Beecham pushed his way through the throng and stood directly in front of Court. “I’m your man,” he announced, his back ramrod straight, his camouflage uniform wrinkled from too many days of wear without a wash.

  Court hesitated. He didn’t want to be the cause of any man walking into a death trap. But he had to choose. Beecham was a die-hard Neely follower. Hell, if Court didn’t pick him someone else probably would.