by Mallory Kane
How could such a little thing cause so much of a stir? The whole room was alive with its presence. Mindy was glowing like a real angel. Her face was filled with a love and serenity he’d never seen before. He almost had to turn away from her beauty and happiness.
The nurse glanced from Deke to Mindy. She cleared her throat. “Well, why don’t I come back in about a half hour? I can help you get started nursing him.” She backed out of the room, turning off the glaring overhead light as she left.
Mindy smiled at her little Sprout. She’d held him for a few minutes in the delivery room, but there had been doctors and nurses all around, rattling instruments, cleaning and talking, and obviously impatient to clear the room and bring in the next delivery.
Now it was just him and her—and Deke. She touched the little nose, the impossibly soft cheek. She held a finger for him to wrap his tiny fist around.
“Deke, look at his little fingernails.” She kissed his fingers and rubbed her nose on his brand-new little arm. “He’s so soft. So perfect.”
She looked up at her ex-husband, and her heart twisted painfully in her chest. He’d been pale before, but now he looked positively ashen. If this were a sitcom, the audience would be laughing, she thought. But it wasn’t a sitcom. This was real life, and Deke Cunningham had finally met his match.
“Come look at him,” she coaxed, sending him a smile.
But he seemed to be frozen in place. His throat moved as he swallowed. His eyes looked huge and terrified.
Just moments before, Mindy had been worried about how he would react to their baby. But now that he was standing here in front of her, enveloped in paralyzing fear that not even the threat of death—not even the threat of her death—had raised in him, she was furious.
“Is this it, then?” she whispered fiercely, trying not to disturb the baby. “With everything that you’ve faced, the great, brave Deke Cunningham is going to be taken down by a six-pound newborn?”
She pressed her cheek against the top of her son’s head for an instant, reassuring him.
Deke didn’t move. He just stared at her.
“You’re a coward. If you don’t know by now what a wonderful father you’d make, then maybe you don’t deserve him. Look at him. How could a bad person produce such a beautiful baby?”
“My father—” he started, but she cut him off.
“You know what? I know your dad hurt you, physically and emotionally. But my guess is he did the best he could. He just wasn’t as strong as you. Maybe you got your strength from your mother. Or maybe something broke inside him.” She took a shaky breath to try and calm her racing heart.
“I’m not excusing him, but maybe he couldn’t handle life alone after your mother left. I don’t know. What I do know is you are not your father. You are a hero, and the bravest man I’ve ever known. But if you can’t face fatherhood, then I guess you’re not as brave as I thought you were.”
Had she gone too far? Too late now. She lifted her chin and met Deke’s gaze. He either believed in himself or he didn’t. the next few seconds might decide the rest of their lives.
He swallowed again and glanced down at the baby cradled in her arms, then looked back up to meet her gaze. “What—what do I do?”
“Come over here and sit down.” Her scalp burned with relief, and her hands shook. But she wasn’t about to show him how worried she’d been that he’d turn and bolt. She sat up a little straighter.
Deke looked like he was taking the last two steps to the gallows. But he finally sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Here,” she said. “Take him in your left arm. Tuck his head right in the bend of your elbow.”
Deke took the baby in the crook of his arm. His head was bowed and his hair covered his face. All she could tell was that he was looking at their son.
“He’s little,” he whispered.
“Thank goodness,” Mindy said.
She heard him chuckle. Then he bent his head and pressed a kiss to his son’s temple.
“You’re almost as beautiful as your mother,” he whispered. “I love you, Sprout.”
Mindy’s heart melted. He’d told his son he loved him, and the hitch in his voice let Mindy know that he’d never meant anything so much in his life.
He was going to be okay.
She watched him staring at his son. She could make it without Deke now. Now that she knew there was one person who’d broken through the wall around his heart. Knowing how much he loved their son was enough—almost.
LESS THAN TWELVE HOURS LATER, Deke sat in a borrowed conference room at the hospital, facing Mike Taylor, the new Secret Service agent in charge of the security detail assigned to Castle Ranch. He’d arrived just after Aimee Vick’s baby was kidnapped.
He’d tried his damnedest to get discharged, but the nurses had told him he couldn’t leave for another twenty-four hours.
In the chair next to Deke, looking as if she’d seen a ghost, sat Irina. On her left was Brock O’Neill. His carefully stiff demeanor, combined with the Bluetooth device in his ear, made him look more like a Secret Service agent than the casually dressed Taylor. On the other hand, the black patch over one eye made him look like a pirate.
But it was Taylor who had just dropped the bombshell. He’d just told Deke in his soft, careful voice that someone had tried to kill Irina.
“Tried?” Deke echoed. He reached out and touched Irina’s arm. “Are you okay?” he asked her while at the same time looking over her shoulder at Brock O’Neill.
She nodded, but he could feel the fine tremors that shook her body.
Brock’s black gaze flickered. He had something to say, and he wanted to say it to Deke alone.
“What happened—and when?”
“I’m okay,” she said quietly. “As soon as I heard that they’d found you and Mindy, I wanted to come and see you—”
“Thirty-five minutes ago,” Taylor said. “Bastard was bold enough. It happened in the parking lot of the hospital.”
Deke sat up, cradling his bandaged arm. “Here? I didn’t hear anything.”
“You wouldn’t. Nobody did. It was a sniper, from who knows how far away. I’ve got men out searching for his nest, but—” Taylor shook his head.
Deke understood perfectly. He knew the range of the weapons he’d shot, and it was expansive. “Can you estimate the trajectory? The height? I can help—”
“Deke,” Irina said, laying a hand on his left arm. “That’s not all.”
Her voice was tight. He met her gaze and saw tears.
“What? Who was shot?”
She shook her head. “Brock tried to talk me out of coming, but Rafe told me he’d come with me. So Brock told Rafe and Aaron both to bring me.”
Deke met Brock’s gaze again and knew he’d been right to trust the ex-navy SEAL. Brock knew what Deke knew. Either Aaron or Rafe was Novus’s mole.
“What happened?” He directed that question at Mike.
“Rafiq Jackson was shot. The shooter got off three rounds, then disappeared. Got Jackson in the meaty part of his thigh. Missed the artery. Damn lucky.”
Damn good shot, Deke thought. “What about Aaron?” he asked.
“Narrow miss. The bullet grazed the skin right behind his temple. Both Gold and Jackson handled things well. The third round ricocheted off the top of Mrs. Castle’s car. Your specialists both stated that a fifth of a second sooner and she’d have been hit between the eyes.” Mike sent Irina a quick apologetic glance. “Sorry, Mrs. Castle.”
She shook her head.
“Where’s Rafe? And Aaron?”
“Jackson was rushed right up to surgery. Gold is in the emergency room. I’m about to go down there and debrief him.”
Deke looked at Irina. “Would you like to go see Mindy and the baby for a few minutes?”
Irina’s eyes darkened and she started to say something. But within a split second, she changed her mind and decided to do what Deke asked.
“I’ll talk to you later,” s
he said pointedly.
Deke nodded, suppressing a small smile. She was as gutsy as she’d always been.
He waited until she was out of the room.
“What the hell?” he asked Brock. “Which one?”
Taylor stayed quiet, but he was all ears.
Brock shook his head a fraction of an inch in each direction. “They’re both spooked. Jackson was sure his femoral artery had been sliced. Gold knows he was about two millimeters from being toast.”
“I know there are some sharpshooters out there, but you think those two shots were on target?”
Brock snorted.
Deke sent the Secret Service agent a sidelong glance.
“What?” Taylor demanded.
“This man could have nicked Jackson’s femoral and given Gold a pierced ear,” Brock said.
Taylor’s mouth turned up slightly. “I heard you were good, Cunningham. I get the message. How do you want to handle it?”
“How many men can you put on my specialists while they’re here at the hospital?” Deke asked.
Mike opened his mouth, but he waved his hand. “Figure it out, and figure out how many more you can place on the ranch. Novus is getting desperate and careless. He’s failed twice—first Matt and now me. This sniper attack is showing us that he’s willing to go to any lengths to get Irina.” Deke paused. He didn’t want to say anything more out loud. There was no telling who might be listening.
“Get Irina back to the ranch, and put every man you’ve got available on security. I’ll be out to talk to you later today.”
Taylor shifted uncomfortably. “I say we take Mrs. Castle to Washington, where we can ensure her safety.”
Brock folded his arms across his chest.
Deke shook his head. “We’ll lose Novus if we do that. She’s got to be here.”
“You’re using her as bait?”
Deke couldn’t explain the real reason he needed to keep Irina close. So he nodded. “Find where the sniper’s nest was. As soon as I get out of here I want to see it. I might be able to tell you who it was.”
He turned to Brock. “Will you wait here until Rafe’s out of surgery?”
Brock nodded and left the room.
Taylor watched him until the door closed behind him, then he turned to Deke. “I’d sure like to know why you’re able to command this much manpower from this high up in the government.”
Deke didn’t acknowledge his question. “Don’t let Irina out of your sight, please. And I mean your sight, until she’s safely back at the ranch. I’ll be out of here this afternoon. I’ll want to talk to you after dark.”
Taylor gave Deke a brief nod and left the room.
Deke looked around the room. On a side table in the far corner of the large room was a telephone. For an instant, Deke considered using it. But it would be too dangerous.
He left the conference room and stepped over to a receptionist’s desk. “Are there still pay phones anywhere around here?”
The young woman looked up and smiled. “Yes, sir,” she said. “In the elevator lobby.” She nodded toward her right.
The telephone kiosks were hardly private, but that was okay. All he was going to do was listen. He entered a memorized phone card number, then entered the number he wanted to call.
After six rings, he heard a click.
One message.
Deke’s heart rate sped up. He entered a six-digit PIN. After a few more clicks, he heard the message.
He pushed his breath out in a huge whooshing sigh. Then he entered the code for Repeat and listened again.
Then pressed Delete and hung up.
For a second, he closed his eyes and leaned against the tiny metal frame around the phone. Then he wiped a hand down his face and punched the elevator call button.
Irina was coming out of Mindy’s room when he got there. She had tears in her eyes.
“You are so blessed,” she said, her voice a mixture of joy and tears. “Don’t you dare mess this up.”
He pulled back, not wanting to look her in the eye, but knowing she’d be suspicious if he didn’t. “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled.
But it didn’t fool her for a second. Her brows drew down in a frown. “What’s the matter? Is Rafe all right?”
“He’s fine.” Dear God, he wanted to tell her what he’d just found out. But he couldn’t. No way. Even with everything that had happened, the worst still wasn’t over.
In fact, the real battle hadn’t even started, although it was about to.
Irina held his gaze for a beat, then nodded. “Good. Now get in there with your wife and son.”
As Irina walked away, he rapped lightly on the open door, then stepped inside.
And stopped dead in his tracks.
Mindy was holding their son—nursing him.
“I’ll—I can come back later,” he stammered, awed and intimidated by the sight before him.
Mindy looked up and smiled. “Our little boy was very hungry.”
He swallowed hard.
She laughed softly. “He’s almost done. Want to hold him?”
Deke meant to shake his head no, but somehow it bobbed up and down instead.
“Come sit here.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know—”
“Don’t worry. He’s less fragile than he looks. I’m going to put one hand under his head and one under his body. You take him the same way.”
Deke did, amazed at how tiny and perfect he was. “Six pounds?” he whispered, staring at the tiny, scrunched-up face.
“And three ounces. He looks like you.”
“How can you tell?”
“Oh, I can tell.”
When Deke looked at her, his heart swelled so much he was sure it would burst out of his chest. “You are so beautiful.”
“Liar.” She touched her hair and smiled sheepishly.
“No,” he said solemnly. “I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, although you may have a rival here.” He nodded toward the precious baby he held. “But I don’t think you’ve ever been as beautiful to me as you are right now. Min, I’ve broken too many promises. And God knows I don’t deserve another chance, but—”
Mindy’s eyes grew wide, but she didn’t say anything.
“I want to be your husband. His father. Can we at least talk about it?”
For a long time she didn’t say anything.
That’s it then, he thought, bracing himself. He held Sprout closer to his chest.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she whispered breathlessly.
Fear and dread certainty hit him like a blow. “There’s not?”
She shook her head. “You are my husband. You are his father. You are my hero.”
While Deke was still processing what she’d said, she lay her palm against his stubbled cheek and raised her head to kiss him.
He kissed her back, holding their brand-new son between them.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4136-1
THE SHARPSHOOTER’S SECRET SON
Copyright © 2009 by Rickey Ricks Mallory
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