by DiAnn Mills
“I appreciate your concern for me. I’m okay. Maybe a little neurotic now and then.”
He raised a brow. “Excuse me if I don’t believe that. You have my number. I sure hate what happened to Walt, and I intend to find out who did it. My next stop is Ty Dalton.” With those words he left her in the persona of a woman who didn’t know what was going on.
Paige watched him pull away slowly as though absorbed in everything they’d discussed. When he ran out of questions, would he put more together and do a search on her? Paige Rogers was as phony as the measurements on a Barbie doll. She’d better let Palmer know.
* * *
Paige had arranged for Savannah to arrive at the library for her internship at four o’clock on Monday afternoon. As soon as Miles finished football practice, the two planned to drive to Pradmore for dinner and to visit Walt. It wasn’t a date, just two hungry people who didn’t want to cook.
Who was she trying to fool?
She stood on her front porch and watched the quarter horses grazing near the fence across the road and enjoyed the late afternoon sun. The horses formed a picturesque scene against a backdrop of brilliant yellows and oranges. She made her way across the road to get as close as possible to the pastoral setting. As soon as she had patted her share of horses, Miles drove up in his truck and joined her.
“This is my idea of perfection,” she whispered, as though the sound of her own voice would break the beauty of the regal animals and the amber afternoon. “My idea of heaven is right here.”
“This can be your life.” Miles wrapped his arm around her waist, and she didn’t protest. She welcomed it. Sometime in the last few days, she’d chosen to stop fighting her emotions for him. If it was wrong to bask in his love and to return those feelings, then she’d deal with it later. The desire to tell him about Nathan nearly overwhelmed her, but that must wait.
“So what’s your real name?”
She hesitated. “Mikaela Olsson.”
“You don’t look Swedish. I’d expect a blonde, blue eyes, and white skin.”
“Hair color, brown contacts, and spray-on tan.”
“Do you have a picture of yourself as a blue-eyed blonde?” Miles asked.
Paige swung a sideways look at him. “What do you think?”
“Never hurts to ask. I can’t imagine you any more beautiful than you already are, but—”
“When would I make this transformation? Then again, once Keary is exposed, I could wear purple hair and orange eyes. The citizens of Split Creek will never forgive me anyway.”
“They have skeletons in their closets too.”
“Government ones?”
“Maybe. Where do your folks live?”
Miles was prying, but it didn’t anger her. “Wisconsin. A dairy farm. They’re still there, but I don’t know if Dad is still in the milking business.”
“When was the last time you saw them?”
“Are you psychoanalyzing me?”
“That was a career path that lasted one weekend while I was in college. Ended when the keg was empty.”
“You’re great with kids. But you’d be treading treacherous waters with me. I’m brutal with shrinks.” She cast an admiring glance at the dipping sun. “Eight and a half years ago.”
“Was it a good visit?”
She paused and remembered their disappointment when she had refused to accompany them to a Thanksgiving Eve church service. “I had my moments. Never had the opportunity to apologize before I was killed in a plane crash.”
“When you first told me about that, I thought it was cold, harsh. Then I understood you’d deceived them out of love. Your life must be tough.”
She leaned into him, not wanting to think about how long it would last. “Dr. Freud, there’s nothing I can do. Even when Keary is behind bars, I doubt if my parents will take me back with open arms. Would you?” The truth about her son bannered across her mind.
“Can’t analyze love.” His words may have been spoken about Paige’s relationship with her parents, but she understood the intensity of his feelings. She had no answers either. “What causes a man to betray his country?”
She could tell him this part. “I’d worked with Keary on other missions. During one of them, his wife and two children were killed in a car accident. He never got over it. Things like that change people forever. Numbs them from caring. Miles, I’ve been involved in places you’ve never heard of. Done things that cause me to question my faith.”
“And I doubt if we can solve the dilemma about world peace tonight. So let’s get some dinner and check in on Walt.” He planted another kiss on her cheek.
She had to seal these moments in her hard drive for when reality blue-screened her emotions.
Miles backed his truck out of the driveway and onto the road. “Are you ready for a big Harley ride?”
“I’d rather bridle a turkey.”
“I’m sure you miss the excitement from your operative days.”
“I don’t do fast and dangerous, remember?”
He gave her a disapproving look, one that said he knew better.
“I do cook and help out football coaches who have a party to give on Sunday afternoon.”
“Oh yeah. Nearly forgot about that. But the Harley ride is a big occasion.”
“How big?”
“My opportunity to get the iron butt award.”
“The what?” Paige stared at him incredulously. What would he come up with next?
“If a rider can accumulate a thousand miles on his bike in twenty-four hours, then he gets the iron butt award.”
“Woo-hoo! Is it an iron-on patch?”
“Very funny.”
“That will have to be a solo flight,” she said.
“It would be nice to have you to talk to.”
I’ll treasure this for as long as I can. “Try your Bluetooth.”
“Oh, Miss Rogers, you do make a man’s heart weaken.”
“You can sweet-talk all you want, darlin’, but I’m not climbing onto the back of a Harley for a thousand miles.”
“How about an hour?”
“Forget it.”
“Did you train at the Farm in Virginia?”
She laughed, the first time in a long time. “Miles, you’ve been watching way too much TV. I can direct you to a book that has good, sound information. It’s in the library.”
She wondered if he thought her role in the CIA was all danger and excitement. The reality was she spent a lot of time waiting while other ops moved into position for the assignment. And nothing happened until those who were under surveillance revealed more and more about themselves and allowed the operatives to act.
He turned onto the interstate. “I’ve heard that if the average American knew what was really going on in our country, they wouldn’t leave their homes.” His serious tone inched her closer to reality.
“Possibly.” True, so very true.
“Are you planning to stay in the CIA?”
He’d nailed her there—the perpetual prayer request. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s a real . . . spiritual struggle. A real conflict of interests.”
“What do you really want?”
She leaned against the headrest. “If the cobwebs of my past were woven into something that made sense, I might be able to answer your question.”
“Fair enough.”
A buck leaped across the road, and Miles swerved to miss it. “That deer may have escaped a hunter’s shot, but he’ll end up as roadkill if he doesn’t mend his ways.”
Roadkill Paige understood. She understood past pain might never vanish, but Miles seemed to have been able to forgive himself just as God had forgiven him. It seemed like she was holding on to a ragged rope in the pit of a deep, dry well, too tired to crawl out.
“Where are you?” Miles asked. “Bad memories?”
“Nightmares. But let’s not talk about it. I’m in the mood for Italian food and ice cream.”
“Why am I not surprised?
Vanilla?”
“Is there any other? I hear the Dairy Whip in Pradmore has a fall special with lots of Reese’s Pieces sprinkles.” She reached over and touched his hand. “Just remember to keep all the tidbits of my life to yourself or—”
“I already know.”
Chapter 42
“From the look on your face, you must have heard about the latest polls,” Sheila says. “Governor Daniel Keary has become a reality.”
I smile at her. She has the poise and the looks for a public-pleasing first lady. Once we’re in office, I’ll get her to work on the ten pounds she needs to lose and encourage her to do something about the crow’s-feet around her eyes.
I stand from my office chair and kiss her. “I’m so blessed to have you—for more reasons than you know.” I take a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“When you walked into the office, I had momentarily forgotten the horrible news.”
Her face registers alarm. “What, honey?”
“One of the vice presidents from WorldMarc was killed in Angola.”
She gasps. “Who? What happened?”
“Joel Zuriel. Plane crash. He’d been checking on oil wells.”
“Please send our condolences. I’ll arrange flowers or a charity contribution.” Sheila touches my face. “Did he have a wife and family?”
I hold her tightly. “No, he was single. Life is so fleeting, Sheila, and we have so little time to do what matters most.”
Chapter 43
Miles realized how much he wanted Paige in his life for as long as he could draw breath. But the likelihood of that happening shadowed reality. No matter the outcome of the problem with Keary, Paige had most likely designed a plan for her life, and it most likely didn’t include Miles. But he could think about it. No harm done there.
He should be strategizing Friday night’s game. The opposing team this week had a defensive line that would give the Bobcats’ offense a rough night. Poor Chris. He’d played quarterback at practice this week with the persistence of a . . . well, a cornered bobcat. Miles believed Chris’s back was hurting him, but he’d denied it.
Walt would be dismissed from the hospital tomorrow, but the doctor had already said he couldn’t attend the game. Maybe the next one. If he were able then, the Chickasaw Wonder would be seated on the bench with the other players, wearing bandages instead of his uniform. He didn’t need The Red Badge of Courage; Walt had lived it.
This had been Miles’s best coaching and teaching year since he’d started at Split Creek. Not only was his team moving closer to the state trophy, but his students were excelling scholastically. Ty Dalton had phoned him on Monday to say that he fully intended to “execute” his original plan to have Miles removed as the next season’s coach. Dalton had also filed a complaint as to the inappropriateness of Miles tutoring some of the football players to keep up their grades. What a joke. Dalton was under suspicion for arson and shooting Walt. That man needed to suit up for a reality check—and not with his girlfriend.
His mind returned to Paige and the issues with Daniel Keary. Miles tried to imagine the life of a CIA operative. Did she go through the motions of living—getting ready for work, stopping for a Starbucks before heading into the office, enjoying holidays, and worshiping on Sunday? Or was Paige’s life in a constant flux, ever alert and waiting for instructions for the next assignment? The more he thought about it, the more he realized her life had to be both. Could Miles live with Paige’s double role? Could he kiss her good-bye in the morning with the knowledge she might be killed when she stepped out of their house? Did she want children? And could he raise their children alone if she didn’t survive a mission?
* * *
Paige leaned against the side of her car and watched the nurse push Walt’s wheelchair out of the hospital and toward his dad’s truck. She swallowed the emotion threatening to surface. Adults and teens from Split Creek High School lined both sides of the walkway, clapping and cheering. The two pastors who had counseled the kids at the hospital and the Greywolfs’ priest stood among the well-wishers. Walt was beaming—and alive.
“We almost lost him last Saturday,” Miles said, standing beside Paige. “Now look at him. Laughing, talking . . .”
She’d been thinking the same thing. “But the shooter is still out there.”
“George says the investigation hasn’t turned up a thing.” Miles breathed in deeply. “I’m more than a little concerned about the other players.”
Paige waved at Mrs. Greywolf. “George is a dogged cop. Won’t rest until the shooter’s found.”
“What about you? How are you doing?” Miles’s softened tone revealed his feelings for her. Where would they be when this was finished?
“I’m a survivor, and I’ve committed myself to the end.”
Miles offered a half smile. He stood with his arms folded across his chest. What emotions was he attempting to conceal? Anger about the unresolved crime? His fear about loving her?
“You’re a good man, Miles,” Paige said. “This town is lucky to have you teaching and mentoring its youth.”
“God makes me look good. I’m useless without Him.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Are you reading me again?”
“Can’t help it.” Paige started to say because she loved him, but that would only make things worse. “I know how to make a man talk.”
“Oh?” His eyes widened.
She realized the connotation and attempted to cover her tracks. “From a professional point of view.”
“You’re digging a deeper hole.”
“From my experience in the spy world?”
“I see. What do you think is bothering me?” he asked.
“Me.”
“Bull’s-eye.” Miles turned to her. “When this is over, will you leave?”
“I have to.”
“There is no ‘have-to’ in the equation.” Miles’s frustration rose in his voice. “I want the opportunity for a relationship between us to work.” He glanced at the crowd cheering on Walt and then back to her. “I want a family.”
Paige caught her breath and turned toward the small crowd surrounding Walt. “Your home is here, and when this thing explodes, no one will want me to stay in Split Creek.”
“You underestimate the people here. Unless you plan to take on your former role and work overseas. Would you pray about us?”
Paige forced down a lump in her throat. “I have, Miles. I’ve prayed about us since I realized how important you are to me.”
“Someday I’d like to hear the words.”
“Not until this is over . . . and maybe not then.”
“Please, because loving you is driving me crazy.”
Paige pressed her lips together. She’d revealed more to this man than to any other person in her entire life. “To me, love and marriage are holy, and that requires trust. What I do is not built on those values. Have you any idea what I did to make sure you weren’t one of Keary’s men?”
When his face blanched, she captured his gaze and refused to let it go. “I didn’t think so. I lie to people, deceive them for the purpose of sucking out information. There are times I secure a witness’s confidence, do my best to keep them guarded and safe, and then they still get killed. Is that what you want from a wife? It all comes down to a choice—us or my job. Because I refuse to make a lifelong commitment to someone when I won’t be able to tell him what I’m doing when he’s not around.”
Before Miles had a chance to speak, Voleta walked their way, waving and smiling. “How come you two aren’t with the rest of us?”
“We prefer to be fans on the sidelines.” Paige gave her a hug.
“Isn’t it wonderful the way people have turned out for Walt and his family?” Voleta asked. “Makes me love this town even more.”
Voleta reached out seemingly to shake Miles’s hand, but instead, she hugged him. He stiffened. Her jeans were a little snug—more like poured onto her�
��and so was her knit top. Use your head, Voleta.
“Good to see you.” Miles patted Voleta’s back.
Voleta smiled. “I need to head back to the salon for a late appointment. Eleanor was a real sweetheart to let me be here this afternoon.”
“Tell her I said hello,” Paige said. “And you’re going to call me later about what we discussed this morning?”
“Sure thing.” Voleta made her way back to the crowd and stopped to visit with the priest.
“Voleta and I are organizing women to prepare meals for Walt’s family. We’ve contacted their priest, and we’re working with others from their church,” Paige said.
“I’m sure the Greywolfs will appreciate that.”
“It was Voleta’s idea. She’ll make it yet.”
“It’s a great way to keep the community connected with what’s happened.” His response held no emotion, but should it? She’d dropped a bomb on his heart.
“But she needs to learn a little discretion about how she dresses.” Paige shook her head. “One step at a time.”
“Ready?”
When Paige nodded, he opened the truck door, and she climbed inside.
“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous today?” Miles gathered her hand into his.
Good. He’d veered away from the “us” topic. “Uh, twice. Once when you picked me up and again when we first stepped out of the truck at the hospital.”
“When you expose Keary, it’ll be over, and we’ll have a chance at life together. Doesn’t matter if you choose to stay here in Split Creek or you decide to stay with the CIA; I’m not letting you go.”
Paige wished she could feel so self-assured. “Even after what I just said?”
“I’ve already had my own conversation with God.”
Chapter 44
Miles knew his players were scared to play the sixth game of the season without Walt. The Bobcats were headed for the play-offs, but their star quarterback was out for the season. Instead of their usual joking and laughing, they acted as if they were about to attend a funeral. They almost had.