The Call of Bravery

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Yes. She was serious.

  She also didn’t know if she’d be enough for them. They had reverted in many ways, painful to see, since Conall left. Not entirely; she’d been right to encourage him to befriend them, but they were suffering in his absence.

  She thought they would have been suffering more if he’d disappeared entirely. As it was, he emailed both every few days and had called a few times. They knew he still cared. Their voices sounded different when they were talking to him than any other time. If he’d wanted them, she would have let them go.

  The first time he called had been bad. Her home phone didn’t have caller I.D., so she had no warning.

  “Lia,” he’d said, and she would have sworn her heart had stopped.

  It resumed, of course, because life did go on. Time passed whether you were happy or unhappy.

  “Conall,” she had managed to say pleasantly. “Let me get the boys.” She set the phone down before he could say anything and hurried to call Walker and Brendan. Anxiety—or something else—tingled through her the entire time the boys excitedly talked to him. What she should have done was go out of earshot, but it didn’t even occur to her to do that. And somehow she wasn’t surprised when Brendan told her Conall wanted to talk to her now and she had to take the phone back.

  “Is Bren really okay?” Conall asked without preamble.

  “Yes, I think so. He doesn’t like to talk about what happened. The other day Walker asked what it looked like when a person got shot and Brendan got mad.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He wouldn’t tell Walker what it looked like.”

  “I can’t imagine that anything is worse than watching their mother die inch by inch was.”

  “No.”

  “Lia…”

  The way he said her name made her feel light-headed. It was what she thought of as his nighttime voice, low, husky, intimate. Tender.

  She felt a sudden surge of rage that he would use that voice.

  “Oh, gosh,” she exclaimed, “something is boiling over on the stove. But I’m glad you called. The boys loved hearing from you.”

  But I didn’t. Which was self-deceit, of course.

  She dodged his second call entirely, making an excuse to the boys about why she couldn’t come to the phone.

  A week later, he called again and didn’t ask to speak to her.

  Niall and Rowan had her and the boys over for a couple of casual gatherings, which helped. Jane called twice. Even Duncan came by one day, midmorning, driving his black SUV and dressed in a well-cut charcoal-gray suit.

  “I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug so casual it immediately made her suspicious.

  “Were you.”

  He studied her face for a moment, then flashed a grin so like Conall’s it made her heart squeeze. “Conall says you’re not talking to him. He wanted to be sure you were all right.”

  “Exactly why is it he thinks I wouldn’t be?” Then her breath quickened. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the people next door, does it?”

  Duncan smiled at her and said gently, “You know it doesn’t, Lia.”

  Struck mute, she stared at him.

  “You blindsided my brother. He’s having to work through it.”

  She’d blind-sided Conall? “Sure I did.”

  Duncan only smiled again, chatted about some community happenings, and departed. Lia was left wondering what he’d report to Conall. Was she all right?

  Not really, but it would get better. It had to.

  She was occupied filling out reams of questionnaires about why she wanted to adopt and why she thought she could provide the boys a superior home.

  She’d also been browsing for job openings, but didn’t see anything that felt right until Rowan called to let her know the middle school psychologist had resigned unexpectedly.

  “I thought of you,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s anything like you have in mind, but just in case…”

  “It actually sounds interesting. I like kids that age.” Although she hadn’t worked in a school before, her graduate degree and experience working with kids might qualify her.

  “I know you do.” Rowan laughed. “Just think. Brendan is only a year away from middle school.”

  The realization took Lia aback. He seemed so young. But he was turning eleven in August and starting sixth grade this fall. Oh, heavens; almost a teenager.

  She applied right away, liking the idea that her working schedule would be so similar to the boys’. Her days would be a little longer, but they could go to after-school care or simply walk over to the middle school and do their homework there while they waited for her.

  Assuming, that is, they were still with her. Their caseworker said everything she’d submitted looked good, but she heard the reservation in his voice and, when she asked, he admitted there was concern that she was a single woman.

  She was mad enough to respond. “Have you found that perfect couple who are dying to adopt two boys the ages of Walker and Brendan?”

  “You know we haven’t.” He paused. “I wanted you to know it might be a problem, that’s all.”

  She managed to thank him, even though he’d scared her.

  Oh, dear God. What if the boys are taken away from me, too? She felt hollow, thinking about it.

  A month to the day after Conall left, she weighed herself and discovered she’d lost nine pounds. Given that she hadn’t been trying and tended to be skinny, that wasn’t a good thing. She had to stay healthy.

  She watched the boys picking at their dinners that evening and felt a flare of alarm. Were they looking thinner, too? It might be only that they were growing, she tried to reassure herself; boys did that, stretching out without filling in. She remembered Conall talking about how little and skinny he’d been until—what had he said? Sixteen? Seventeen? He certainly wasn’t anymore.

  She would take both boys in for checkups this summer. In the meantime, she’d let them snack more.

  They were so subdued this evening, they didn’t argue when she vetoed another TV show and suggested an early bedtime.

  “You can read in bed,” she told them firmly. When she checked on them half an hour later, they were both asleep. She kissed them both, lightly so as not to awaken them, closed Brendan’s book and set it on the nightstand, and turned out his lamp. When she slipped out of their room, Lia left the door slightly ajar.

  The house was hot tonight. The temperatures had reached the nineties today, truly uncomfortable in the Puget Sound area where the humidity stayed high. She’d opened windows earlier, but there wasn’t enough breeze to stir the air. As she often did at this time of night, she went onto the porch and sat with her back to the newel post, savoring the cooler air.

  A soft low sound came from the darkness, an answering whicker from the other direction. Lia wrapped her arms around her knees and wondered where Conall was right now. Usually, she tried not to wonder, given how high the odds were that he was in danger.

  Maybe, she thought wryly, what she ought to wonder was who he was right now. If he disappeared undercover for weeks or months, would he have to quit phoning the boys? Probably. She prayed they’d understand.

  Sound traveled at night. Was that a car on her gravel road? Of course it wasn’t very late—some people actually enjoyed the nightlife. She stiffened when the car didn’t turn into any of the first driveways. As far as she knew, nobody had moved into the house beyond hers although repairs had been made. Surely nobody would be coming here…

  Headlights pierced the night and she instinctively scooted into the shadows of the porch. Her heart drummed. Who could it possibly be?

  The car—the moonlight was bright enough for her to see that it was a car—parked in front of the barn.

  In Conall’s s
pot.

  She should go inside, lock the door. No, wait and see who it was. Strangely, Lia was dizzy with anticipation although she couldn’t imagine why she thought even for a minute—

  A man got out, slammed the door. He seemed to be looking right at her, which meant she wasn’t as hidden as she’d thought. His deep voice was low, but it carried.

  “Lia?” Conall said.

  * * *

  HE’D FELT SICK with apprehension ever since he’d left his SUV in the parking garage at Miami International Airport this afternoon, having chosen a late flight deliberately. He’d had the probably delusional idea that he could show up after the boys were in bed, talk to Lia, and if she rejected him, no one else even needed to know he’d ever been here. He would go straight back to SeaTac, get a hotel room and fly out first thing in the morning.

  Now he realized he’d expected her to be sitting out on the porch. It had never occurred to him that he might have to knock and wait to see who came to the door. He’d known, somehow, that he could walk across the yard and there she’d be. What he hadn’t anticipated was that a strange car arriving at this time of night would scare her. Of course it would, given the isolation of her house. That was stupid of him. He spoke her name immediately.

  “Conall?” she said disbelievingly.

  “Yeah. It’s me.” Oh, damn, what had made him think this was a good idea? Why hadn’t he called her? Asked whether it was okay if he came?

  Long strides took him across the yard. She was standing by the time he reached the bottom step. As usual, no porch light, but soft light fell through the open front door and the living room window.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “All day, I thought about you sitting out here.” He had to dislodge a lump in his throat. His voice came out hoarse. “Waiting for me.”

  She made a sound, a strange hitch of breath. “I think I was,” she whispered, and he took the steps two at a time.

  Conall didn’t know if he reached for her first, or if she flung herself into his arms. All that mattered was that she was there, her face tipped up to his, her lips already parted for his kiss.

  He took her mouth voraciously. All that tenderness was inside him, but the hunger was stronger. The hunger, and the fear.

  She might still push me away. But she wasn’t, he realized exultantly; she was kissing him, her tongue tangling with his, her arms holding him as tightly as he held her. She gave a small sob when he broke off for air, and to look down at her.

  “God, I missed you,” he said huskily, and kissed her again. He wanted to relearn her body, stroke her from butt to nape, throat to belly, but all he seemed able to do was grip her hips and grind them against his pelvis. He was blind and deaf with need, because—yes!—she still wanted him, too.

  Reason was barely a murmur, almost drowned out by driving lust, but he made himself listen. This wasn’t all he wanted. He had to talk to her, find out whether there was the slightest chance she could imagine committing herself to him despite everything she knew about him.

  Reason might not be loud enough to stop him, but a serious case of nerves had him gradually gentling the embrace, softly kissing her jaw and nuzzling her neck as he loosened his grip on the curve of her buttock, kneaded the small of her back. God, he loved that spot, where the fragile string of vertebrae met the flare of her ass.

  He sucked in a breath. Talk. They had to talk. He might yet be turning around and walking back to his car, driving away, heading for the airport.

  “I should have let you know I was coming.”

  She nuzzled his neck. “Are you in town because of the case? Or to see Duncan?”

  “No.” He brought his hands to her upper arms, squeezed and said, “I’m here to see you.”

  She went very still, like a wild animal caught in the open.

  “You,” he repeated.

  “Walker and Brendan—”

  “No.”

  He couldn’t tell if she said “Oh” or only exhaled.

  “Can we, uh, sit down?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Her head turned toward the Adirondack chairs, but he said, “How about right here? I don’t want to let go of you.”

  This time her “Oh” was distinct.

  They sat. He held her hand; interlaced their fingers so they were palm to palm. He’d never noticed before how sensitive the palm of his hand was.

  The night was awfully quiet. He discovered he was next thing to panicked. Give him a drug raid any day. At least he’d have a weapon in his hand, be wearing a Kevlar vest for protection. With Lia, he had nothing.

  He gulped. “I want what I had here with you.”

  Her lashes fluttered as if she’d blinked a couple times in quick succession. Startled at his eloquence, no doubt, he thought grimly. He could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

  “You know what I am,” Conall said. “I’ve told you more about myself than I’ve ever told anyone.”

  He’d give anything to know what she was thinking. Her eyes were huge and dark, her lips slightly parted as she gazed at him.

  “You said something once. That you thought I had it in me to be a better man.”

  She shook her head and his heart quit beating. But she told him, “I never said that. I wouldn’t have. I said there’s more to you than you believed. That all the business about you being incapable of being a good father or husband was nonsense. Do you know how much those two boys love you?”

  “I love them, too.” It was the first time in his life he’d ever said the word aloud with him as the context. He listened to himself with amazement and thought, That wasn’t so bad. Yeah, okay, then do it. Big breath. “I fell in love with you, Lia.” It sounded raw and awkward to his ears. “And, uh…” His hand tightened unconsciously on hers. “I had to tell you that in person. And find out whether you think you can feel anything for me.”

  God. He’d gotten it all out, but now he was in freefall. Parachute, you can open any time. Any minute. Like now.

  Her mouth was trembling. Lia lifted her free hand to it, pressed her fingertips to her lips. She was making some strange little sounds, like whimpers. And then he saw that her eyes were wet, about to overflow.

  “I’m sorry,” he said on a groan. “I shouldn’t have done it like this. You don’t have to feel bad—”

  “I love you so much. I never thought—” She laughed, but she was crying, too. “Oh, Conall.” She dove at him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

  He held her fiercely, his cheek against her head, his eyes closed tight. They were burning. He didn’t even know what he felt, it was such a tangle. But it was good, so good. And it hurt like hell, too. He’d cried that day he had to say goodbye to her and the boys, and he was about to cry now, too. Why was happiness as agonizing as grief? Conall didn’t know, but he wanted more of this anyway.

  He rocked her, the way she’d rocked Sorrel that day on this same porch, and it seemed to work because the tension gradually eased from her body and his, too. She wiped her cheeks on his shirt, sniffled, laughed again and pulled back a few inches so she could see him.

  “You didn’t know I was crazy in love with you?”

  “I hoped.” He grunted at a memory like a body blow. “Do you have any idea how I felt when you informed me that all you were to me was an extension on kitchen and bathroom privileges?” He gave her a small shake. “You didn’t really think that.”

  She huffed. “You didn’t give the slightest indication you were falling in love with me.”

  “Do you really think every time I go out on a job I spend more time hanging around a woman and her kids than I do working?”

  “Um…no?”

  “You’re right. No.”

  “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” she sa
id softly.

  No one in his life had ever apologized for hurting his feelings. No surprise when he’d done his damnedest to convince everyone he didn’t have any.

  “Not your fault.” That came out gruff. He nudged her braid to one side and kissed her neck. Here came the hard part. “Lia… Do you love me enough to marry me?”

  For a second she didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “I’m sure.”

  She searched his eyes; he waited.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, of course I will. Only…”

  Conall tensed. “Only what?”

  “I’ve applied to adopt Walker and Brendan.”

  He stared. “Well, of course we’ll adopt them.” Then he said sheepishly, “Well, I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions. You’ve chosen to foster and not adopt, and that’s okay if you want to keep taking in kids, but Walker and Brendan… They need us.”

  “I think they do, too.”

  He sighed. “You’ll have to quit taking in kids that are in this country illegally, though, Lia. I enforce the law. I can’t be involved in breaking it.”

  “No, I understand.” She smiled crookedly. “It would be hard to keep making connections wherever you get sent anyway.”

  Conall realized she didn’t know what he’d really been asking of her. She thought he was keeping his job, that he’d be uprooting her and the boys whenever he got transferred to a different field office, that she’d often be left behind coping alone when he disappeared on operations like this one and others far more dangerous. The fact that she’d been willing to do that, to give up her home, her friends, everything she knew for him, left him stunned.

  “Lia, I’m turning in my resignation.”

  “What?”

  “When I said I want what I had here with you, I meant it. This house feels more like home than anyplace I’ve ever been. The yard is great for the boys. What would you do with the horses if we moved? We can get a dog,” he said with sudden enthusiasm. “I wanted a dog when I was the boys’ age.”