Graeme pushed the nearly full beer can off to the side. His usual drink of choice no longer held any appeal. While he hadn't known about the phone call and had no choice over being deployed that very morning, he still felt guilty and somehow responsible. He fast-forwarded to see if Wyatt had called again, but no pertinent calls followed. He listened to the call multiple times until he finally crawled into bed at four am.
After what seemed like only minutes later, he awoke to his iPhone tapping a staccato beat on the nightstand, as the mantle clock chimed six times. He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes in a futile attempt to lessen the fuzzy film and swung his feet onto the cool hardwood floor. Whoever was calling this early better have a damn good reason.
He swiped across the bottom of the phone to unlock it and croaked, "Speak."
"Oh, I'm sorry I woke you, dear. I should've looked at the time before calling."
"Bridey." Immediately, he regretted his bark and softened his tone at hearing his foster mother's voice. The death of her only natural son and her husband's recent life threatening illness amped his concern several notches. "Is everyone okay? Are you and Andrew all right?"
"We're all fine. Andrew's recovering nicely from the heart attack and all. "
"That's good to hear." The invisible bands constricting his lungs disappeared and the breath he'd held in whooshed out like a bellows. "What's up?"
"Well, truth is, I'm so hungry to see you. I know you promised to come to home for the Labor Day Barbecue." She paused as if weighing carefully what she'd say next. "I was wondering if you could come home sooner."
"I'd planned to be there a few days before the party. When did you have in mind?"
"Can you be here this afternoon?"
A smile tugged at Graeme's lips. He met Bridey over fifteen years ago when she and Andrew Benning became his foster parents, and he'd never recognized patience as one of her ready virtues. "I don't know if I can leave that soon, I –"
"That's all right, dear, I understand." She grew quiet then, disappointment clearly taking the wind from her sails.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and around to the back of his neck squeezing tightly to loosen the taut muscles. "I want to be there, Bridey, but I just dragged my sorry butt home last night from a long assignment." The silence on the other end plus the message he'd listened to last night solidified his decision. He stretched his back, raked his fingers through shaggy, bed-head hair and cleared his throat. "Tell you what, I have some time coming to me so, after I've strung together a couple of loose ends, I'll do my best to leave in the morning."
"Perfect," she stated. "Elliott's already here, and Mike and Law will get home as soon as they can."
"What're you up to?" He realized, not unpleasantly, he'd been conned. Through the years, she'd used multiple ploys and devices to wrangle her rowdy group of boys, and it hit him how homesick he was to see her and his foster siblings.
"Why nothing, I just want my family all under one roof for a change."
"Do I need to drive myself to the ranch?"
"Oh, pish, I wouldn't hear of it. Someone will pick you up."
"I'll call you, then, when I know the flight and time."
"I'm so excited, I can hardly wait to hug you. Vidalia is already planning all your favorite foods."
"Well, if nothing else, your hugs and Vidalia's cooking are worth the trip."
"We'll see you soon, Graeme. Oh, and dear?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Maggie's coming home."
Graeme stared at the phone after Bridey hung up. Where had Maggie been? Why hadn't she told him she was leaving the home she'd shared with Wyatt? Granted he hadn't been around since the funeral. There hadn't even been time to visit. Joe had flown him in and pulled him out as soon as the first shovel of dirt had touched the lid of the casket. Unfortunately in his type of work, families and personal relationships became casualties that sometimes proved fatal.
Bridey had dropped that small bombshell for a reason and he had an idea he'd need every investigative tool in his arsenal to figure it out.
* * *
Half an hour later, he entered the offices of INTERCEPT, a unit formed after 9/11 to ensure the success of government and law enforcement agencies across the nation, as well as some of the more questionable parts of the world. He caught the director, Joe Webster, on his way out the door headed for parts unknown.
"I'm glad you're still here."
"You almost missed me." Joe shoved a stack of manila folders into a leather briefcase and closed the lid. "You know I can't send you out until you've taken the mandatory time off to decompress. You haven't been back in the states a full twenty-four."
"That's why I wanted to talk to you before you left. I need to go home for a while."
"Family all right?"
"Bridey says so, but her call this morning asking me to come home today seemed off. I don't know what she's up to."
"Take as long as you need. You've sure as hell earned it." Joe retrieved another file from the metal cabinet and thrust it toward Graeme. "I wanted to discuss this with you after I got back. Take it with you for a little light reading on the plane."
The file came close to an inch thick. "Light reading, huh? What's it about?"
"It came by messenger from Senator Hartford this morning." Moving to the office door, Joe flipped the light off and followed Graeme out into the hallway. "Since the info concerns your family, look it over and we'll talk about it when I get back. "
When Graeme entered the elevator to go to the lobby of the office building, Joe waved and opened the door to the stairwell. "I have to go upstairs before I leave. See you in a couple of weeks at the barbecue."
"Yeah, and bring your appetite."
The next stop on his list involved backing out of a fund raising dinner he was to attend the following weekend with Amanda. Early in their relationship, Amanda had fancied Graeme running for a congressional seat. She also had designs on becoming the wife of that new congressman. He'd finally convinced her he wasn't interested in a career in politics or a serious relationship. Their current arrangement was that of close friends with occasional benefits.
When he called her to see if she had time for a late lunch, he reached a prerecorded voicemail. "Hi, you've reached Amanda Hartford and I'll be unavailable until Monday, the nineteenth. Leave a message and I'll return your call." He hated to leave without first seeing or at the very least talking with her to explain his abrupt change of plans. But she knew he could be sent out of town at a moment's notice due to the nature of his job.
After leaving a brief message for her, he scheduled a seat on the first available flight out of Reagan National Airport to Dallas-Fort Worth. Normally calm, he barely contained his excitement for returning home to Ben McTiernan Ranch to reconnect with family, the land, and Maggie.
* * *
Maggie Taylor Benning tightened her grip around the chubby fisted four-year-old jumping jack beside her and checked her watch for the forty-seventh time.
This was a bad idea.
No. This was insane.
Last week when her mother, Nancy, and step-father, Ed, proposed the idea of meeting her at the airport to pick up her son, Andy, on their way to Disney World for the second leg of their honeymoon trip, Maggie had readily agreed.
Logically, she needed the time to move back in to her home without worrying where Andy was or what mischief he might get into. He was in constant motion, even in his sleep. Nancy said he just had places to get to and wasn't wasting any time.
A few days ago, though, she started thinking about putting her little boy on a plane. The more she thought about her son's safety being dependent on pilots and flight attendants she didn't know and maintenance performed by strangers, the more her anxiety manifested itself. She attributed her fears to her husband's crash of the plane he piloted for Southern Star Airlines last year, but those fears only added to the frequency and intensity of the panic attacks she experienced.
It all came down to trust, and Wyatt had destroyed hers.
After the crash and Wyatt's funeral, she made a decision to avoid anything related to flying. Hers was a plan doomed to fail. Unfortunately, her son's large blue eyes weren't the only things that likened him to Wyatt Benning. Andy loved anything associated with aviation. If it flew, he was hooked.
Maggie readjusted her hold around his sweaty fingers when he tried to wiggle free. He strained against her grip the way a puppy would tug on a leash. She noticed the status of her mother's flight had updated and they would arrive soon. Thank goodness, for she didn't know how much longer she could restrain him. He practically vibrated with excitement.
Within the next few minutes, a plane taxied up to the gate next to the one where Nancy and Ed would arrive. When the door opened to the waiting area and passengers began to file in, Andy ripped his hand from hers and raced past the ticket desk at the gate shouting, "It's Nanny and Pops! They're here!"
Maggie realized he was gone in a micro-second, but it was enough time for him to disappear from view swimming upstream in the midst of the adult bodies coming toward him.
Suddenly, breathing in enough air proved impossible and her fingers started to tingle. The roar in her ears competed with dizziness and nausea. When Maggie located her sandy-haired, jeans-clad son, he was at the window overlooking the tarmac where he'd stopped beside a row of blue vinyl covered chairs. His nose and the palms of his hands were plastered to the tinted glass, while the heels of his sneakers lifted high off the dark gray carpet.
In spite of her rebellious stomach, Maggie maneuvered through the maze of people and plopped into a seat beside him. Sitting with her back to the window, she wrapped an arm around his middle to keep him from escaping again then pitched forward with her head between her knees. She covered her nose and mouth with her free hand and forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply. Even though her fingers still tingled, the roar had subsided, leaving her to believe she'd be back to normal shortly.
Well, as normal as anyone could be who'd been through what she had in the last few months. Sometimes she marveled at her stamina. She supposed it was true that what didn't kill you made you stronger, but she'd have preferred not learning that first hand.
As the queasiness passed, Maggie realized Andy shook her shoulder. He cupped his hand around her ear and spoke in an Andy whisper, a tone three decibels shy of a shout. "Mommy, I'm ready to go get on the plane."
She winced, smiled, and answered him in a softer voice hoping he would follow her lead, "Not yet, honey, we have to wait for Nanny's plane to land. She and Pops will come through that door over there in a few minutes and you'll go with them to fly on another plane to Disney World."
Jumping up and down he placed a strangle-hold around her neck. "Wow! I'm gonna get to fly with Nanny and Pops? Awesome!"
"Yes, baby, but be still, you're worse than a bag of jumping beans." Maggie hugged him in return and pulled him onto her lap.
While Andy fidgeted and fiddled with something he'd stuck into his pocket, she glanced over to her left at the last of the passengers from that latest arrival. She saw the one person she was least prepared to deal with standing across the concourse. Graeme McAlister said something to a small, older woman, then helped her onto a courtesy cart.
Her stomach plummeted like it did when she rode the Texas Giant at Six Flags. She couldn't get up and leave without him seeing her, plus the plane carrying her mother and step-dad taxied to its gate at that precise moment.
The nausea returned, her chest tightened to the point she thought she might faint if she couldn't get air to her lungs. Crazy since she was breathing in and out like she'd run up a flight of stairs. Andy became her focus, her lifeline. He needed her. She had to calm down. Pulling him back to her side, she dipped her head again, breathed through her nose into her hand to hold the anxiety at bay.
"No, mommy, let me go. I don't want to g…" Andy started to complain then stopped short.
"Hey, pardner."
"Hi."
"Is everything ok?
"No." Andy patted Maggie on the top of her head. "My mommy's sick."
"Can I help?" Graeme parked his carry-on luggage beside her. Kneeling in front of her on one knee, he rested his arm on the other knee and leaned closer. "Ma'am, is there anything I can do?"
Please, just go away. She couldn't deal with Graeme McAlister right now. He'd abandoned her years ago when she'd needed him. And after Wyatt's death, he'd abandoned her yet again.
Maggie knew she had to pull herself together. Andy shouldn't see her acting so weird and if she was as pale as she felt, well… Slowly, everything came back into focus.
"Ma'am, can I get you some water?"
The deep baritone snugged around her like a warm blanket, but in spite of the comfort it delivered, Maggie shivered. What she needed was fresh air and any place that wasn't here. She peered through parted fingers at the man who was so familiar and yet had become a stranger in recent years.
The tour from polished black cowboy boots to faded blue jeans and white cotton tee shirt was a long one. Or would've been had he been standing. She looked up into that handsome face with its high cheek bones and square jaw that kept a perpetual five 'o clock shadow. When she met his concerned gaze, something tilted inside her, as recognition sparked in his eyes.
"Maggie?"
"Hi, I'm Andy. It's nice to meet ya."
"Hello, Andy, I'm your Uncle Graeme." Smiling, he shook the child's outstretched hand.
Maggie looked at him questioningly. She didn't know what she expected but he both surprised and pleased her by his introduction. Suddenly, Andy took off running.
"Nanny! Pops!" In a second, he was jumping into his grandparents arms, hugging, kissing, and talking all at the same time.
"Excuse me, Graeme." Maggie got up to meet her parents with Andy's bag and backpack. "I have to go."
"Yeah, me too. I'm supposed to meet Junebug out front." Graeme stood, handed her a plastic dinosaur that fell out on the floor. "I hope we can get together while I'm here."
"Well, I hope so, although I have a lot to do while Andy's gone."
Taking a few steps toward where her family waited for her to join them, she stopped and turned back to face him. She didn't know if she wanted to renew their friendship even though they were family – sort of. Fortunately, he came across differently from what she'd expected if they ever saw each other again. There was something in his eyes she couldn't read. Something that made her heart betray her.
"I'll make it a point to come by the main house soon." She smiled wondering if that might be easier said than done.
"Good, I'd like that."
She smiled and said, "Well, I really do have to go." Turning, she walked away refusing to even think his coming home would be the answer to her prayer for help and hope.
Chapter 2
Graeme watched Maggie disappear down the concourse with her son and parents to get them to their connecting flight. Ten years ago he'd made up his mind to put her out of his thoughts. Maggie had married his brother, Wyatt, and that was the end of it.
He changed his whole life plan. Instead of marrying her as he'd hoped, he re-enlisted, then later joined a clandestine group who operated in and outside the United States to enforce American ideals.
He accepted that life.
In his mind, he remembered her exactly as she'd looked the summer before her senior year in high school. But the pretty girl he knew from ten years ago was nothing like the beautiful woman he saw today. He honestly hadn't recognized Maggie until she lifted her head and that copper-penny colored mane fell away from her face. Riotous curls had replaced pigtails. A lithe girlish figure was now womanly with lush curves.
He told himself it was best Maggie left when she did. Seeing her for the first time after all these years took away any intelligent thought process he possessed. Besides, they needed a better place than the crowded airport to talk. After he settled in at the ranch, he would call her to arr
ange a time and place for them to meet. When they were alone, they could hash through all the questions he'd seen in her green eyes. Then, by damn, he had a few questions of his own.
By the time Graeme picked up his luggage at the baggage claim, he saw Junius T. White, or Junebug as he was known at the ranch, coming in through the automatic doors. Junebug had been the foreman at Ben McTiernan Ranch since before Graeme or even Elliott had shown up. He'd been the one to teach the boys to ride, rope and bust broncs, and even taught them to drive Andrew's old jeep in a pasture out in the north forty.
Graeme noted how much more stooped and fragile the older man looked and wondered if he'd slowed down in recent years. When they shook hands, he realized looks were deceiving and winced slightly at the unexpected iron-like grip.
Before Graeme could protest, Junebug hefted the large bag and headed toward the door to the outside, adding tersely, "Come on, boy. It's fifty miles to my easy chair and we're burnin' daylight."
Put in his place and feeling fifteen again, Graeme picked up his carry-on bag and followed the man outside to the car.
Coming home was the best decision he'd made in a long time.
* * *
Maggie pulled her 1961 Chevy pickup truck to a stop in front of the home she currently shared with her college roommate, Dinah Horne. She pushed the gear shift into first gear, pulled the parking break, turned off the ignition and waited while the engine bumped and lurched before grinding to a stop. One of these days, this rusty old bucket was going to turn in its notice. It had belonged to her dad before he passed away and had been a loyal friend through the years. Lately, though, the old girl had been a touch rebellious. So much so she and Andy had taken to calling her Dudley.
She gathered her things to take into the house, including Andy's booster seat, empty snack bags and water bottle. When she moved the booster, the bag holding his toy sea fish fell to the floor. Instantly she felt bad that he'd forgotten to take them. But she knew her mother would buy him a new toy as soon as they landed in Florida. When they talked later, she'd tell him his sea fish would be waiting for him when he came home.
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