by Meryl Sawyer
Matt put down his fork. "Tell McCord to put an ad in Soldier of Fortune. That would be right up his alley."
Kelly took her time eating her salad, not knowing what to say. She recalled Matt's comment about Logan being another "lost soul" in need of rescue. It was apparent Matt did not like Logan hanging around.
"Matt," she said, deliberately changing the subject, "how can I thank you for giving me this chance?"
He gazed at her, his expression becoming even more serious. "You know you've always been special to me, don't you?"
"You're special to me, too," she replied, but she knew her feelings weren't as strong as his. The subject made her uneasy. She didn't want Matt to embarrass himself and regret it later. He was her friend and she wanted to keep it that way.
"I would never do anything to hurt you … if I could avoid it."
His voice had a disturbing undertone to it. The night he'd come to her apartment to tell her Daniel had been killed, Matt had the same tone to his voice, as if he was being forced to do something at gunpoint.
"What is it, Matt? What's wrong?"
He pulled something out of his pocket, and she saw it was a photograph that was worn around the edges. Hesitating for a second, he handed it to her.
It was a snapshot of a child. Big blue eyes. Wavy hair the color of rich chocolate. A distinctive cleft in his small chin.
"It's a picture of Daniel when he was a child," she cried. "Where did you get it?"
"That's not Daniel Taylor."
She tilted the photograph toward the dim candlelight and saw the date that showed when the picture had been taken. It was less than a year old. Baffled, she studied the child's face. "It looks exactly like him. Who is it?"
He studied her face for a moment, then said, "His son."
It can't be. Her lips formed the words but no sound came out. She stared at the candle on the table, overcome by a gamut of perplexing emotions. The little boy couldn't be more than three, four at the most, which indicated he'd been born while she had been married to Daniel.
She was hardly aware of the waiter removing the salad dishes, then serving the main course. Osso bucco was one of her favorite dishes. Prepared by a chef at a four-star resort like Enchantment, it was undoubtedly first rate, but the scent of the meat brought a rush of bile to her throat.
Rising, fighting back tears, she rushed away from the table. She streaked through the open French doors onto the patio. Enchantment was set on 70 acres of Red Rock country in Boynton Canyon. Nearby was Boynton Vortex, famous for its healing powers.
Kelly inhaled deeply, taking a gulp of piñon-scented air into her lungs and holding it. The positive energy from a vortex was supposed to calm your mind and heal your spirit.
"It's not working," she said to herself.
Tears trembled on her lashes as she let out her breath, and the cold vise of reality cinched her, cutting off her breath. Daniel had fathered a child, a love child. Her sense of betrayal was so overwhelming that it stopped the tears.
Theirs had been the perfect marriage, she'd told herself. They had juggled two careers—on two continents—and still had a wonderful relationship. But how happy could Daniel have been to engage in an affair that resulted in a child?
"The truth hurts," she whispered.
What she felt went beyond pain beyond tears. She'd loved Daniel and trusted him. She'd believed with all her heart that he loved her just as much as she loved him.
She had been living a lie.
Kelly gazed out at the moon-washed escarpments that were a deep rust color by day, but at night they were dark, mysterious silhouettes. Lonely. A fickle breeze riffled down from a mountain ridge, bringing with it the mournful sound of a night bird singing of lost love. Usually the natural beauty of the land soothed her.
Not tonight.
She staggered off the patio and dodged a saguaro cactus. She clutched her chest with both arms as grief tore through her, gouging deep inside over … and over … and over. She charged headlong toward the wilderness area surrounding the resort.
"Kelly! Kelly! Wait!"
She raced faster as if she could outrun her grief and leave it behind her. The wind billowed through her hair, whipping a strand across her eyes. She stumbled over one of the countless rocks that made the landscape unique. Suddenly she was on her knees, palms scraping across the dirt. She picked up a fistful of loose pebbles and flung them at a nearby boulder.
How could Daniel do this to her? How could he?
Matt dashed up to her, puffing like a race horse, and gently helped her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms, and she rested her head against his shoulder. He hugged her tight, whispering her name.
Tears poured from her eyes. They gushed out along with a keening cry of utter misery. The sob reverberated through her chest, ripping at her, but doing nothing to lessen the grief.
"Go ahead and cry," Matt whispered, stroking the back of her head. "Let it out."
She wanted to stop, but she couldn't. Tears flowed in a torrent, and with them, came gut-wrenching sobs that made her ribs ache. Matt anchored her to his chest, whispering words she couldn't hear because she was crying so loudly.
She had no idea how long she'd stood there, sheltered by his arms, until her chest shuddered, and she had to gulp for breath.
Matt dabbed at her eyes with his handkerchief. "Darling, it's all right."
His words sobered her in a way nothing else could have. She took the handkerchief from him, air filling her lungs in ragged gasps. Matt cared about her, she thought. He truly cared.
He'd always been at her side, ready to help. Seeing her profound grief for another man had to hurt him almost as much as Daniel's betrayal devastated her. Why couldn't she have fallen head over heels for Matthew Jensen?
Matt had warned her about Daniel. Don't marry him, Matt had told her, claiming Daniel would only hurt her. At the time she thought he was merely jealous, but now she wondered if he'd detected something in Daniel that she had not.
Life is not fair. Suddenly, her grandfather's sage comment took on real meaning. No, life was not fair, but you had to deal with it.
She stepped out of his arms and blew her nose. The snorting sound could have flushed out the white-tail deer that hide in the thickets of alligator juniper. But she was beyond being embarrassed.
This was her best friend, Matt. He'd seen her at her worst. First, when he'd brought her the news of Daniel's death, and now, when he'd told her about Daniel's love child.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "It's just that I had no idea."
His arm around her waist, he guided her over to a slab of red rock. They sat down, and Kelly tried to stop shaking. Her breathing became more even, but the internal pain remained.
"What did I do wrong?" she asked.
He took her hand, gently squeezing it. "Nothing. You're a wonderful person. Loving. Giving. Intelligent." He kissed her forehead. "Beautiful."
"Matt, please, tell me the truth."
"The truth? No one knows what goes on in someone else's head." Bitterness underscored his words. "Daniel Taylor was damaged. Being bounced from foster home to foster home must have done something to him. He craved the spotlight and always wanted to be the center of attention."
"You're right. He was always the life of the party. He was fun to be with. He never seemed to be down. He was so happy that I never suspected—"
"When he was promoted to the South American Bureau and went to Venezuela, Daniel entered another world. He was lonely."
"I should have gone with him, but he said it was only temporary and I shouldn't give up my career for him. We saw each other as often as we could. It seemed to work."
At the time she questioned her decision to remain in New York. Now she knew she should have quit and started a family.
"Tell me about the boy. What is his name?"
"He's Rafael Zamora. At the orphanage the nuns call him Rafi."
"Orphanage? Where's his mother? Didn't she want him?" Kelly alre
ady hated the woman who was responsible for Daniel betraying her. How could she give up her child?
"Carmen Zamora was a secretary in Daniel's office." Matt paused to squeeze her hand again. "She was on the plane with him when it crashed. Her mother had Rafi, but she died. There was no one to take the child, so he was sent to an orphanage."
She remembered the photograph. The adorable little boy had Daniel's blue eyes and thick dark hair. He'd been staring at the camera with the same captivating intensity Daniel had, an endearingly familiar expression. This should have been her child—their child.
"How did you find out about the boy?"
He hesitated, then answered, "Daniel told me."
For a moment her mind refused to register his words. Finally, she managed to respond. "Daniel discussed his affair with you? Why?"
Matt shrugged. "He knew how much I cared about you. I guess he thought I could help you."
"That doesn't make any sense. If you came to me and said Daniel was having an affair I would have been terribly hurt. How could that possibly help?"
When he didn't respond, strange and upsetting thoughts raced through her mind. Slowly she realized what he was trying to tell her. "Daniel was leaving me for that woman, wasn't he?"
"Yes, Kelly … he intended to file for a divorce."
"Why didn't you tell me before? Why wait two years?" She struggled to temper the shrill note in her voice. Matt was a good friend, and she could see this wasn't easy for him.
"I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't tell you because I believed Rafi's grandmother was going to raise him. Someone in Daniel's office down there called to tell me Rafi's an orphan now. I thought you would want to know." He pulled the photograph out of his pocket and handed it to her.
Even in the moonlight she could see how special the child was. So innocent, and yet she couldn't help resenting him, the living proof of Daniel's betrayal. A disturbing memory crept in from the past, and she recalled being a young child who had lost both parents. She'd accepted the news bravely because she didn't comprehend what this loss would mean until later.
All she knew was that she was alone. And she was terribly frightened. She'd been staying with friends of her parents when the news came. She hid under the bed, so no one bad could find her.
Then Pop arrived. There was no reason to be afraid, he assured her. She wasn't alone in the world because she had him and he loved her with all his heart.
Who would love Daniel's son?
"Of course, I want to know about Rafi." Hot tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away. "I won't lie to you and say this hasn't crushed me. In a way, it's worse than hearing Daniel had been killed in a plane crash—much worse. But I can't blame the child, and I certainly can't allow him to spend his life in an orphanage. I'm going to get him."
"I wish it were that simple." Matt looked away for a moment, and the lonely howl of a coyote pierced the night air. "A single woman cannot adopt a child in Venezuela. Rafi is in an orphanage that requires a Catholic family adopt him."
"I'm Catholic," Kelly responded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Matt scooted nearer, closing the small space between them. "Kelly, I know this is a terrible shock to you. We've been close for almost fifteen years. It can't come as any surprise how I feel about you."
Kelly looked down, not wanting to hear this. She knew Matt still cared for her. They had been destined to marry—then Daniel Taylor came along.
Her thoughts reeling, she couldn't concentrate on what Matt was saying. All she could think about was a young child—alone—in an orphanage. That could have been her, except Pop had been there ready to take her into his heart. Could she do that for Daniel's love child?
Would she resent the boy and blame him for an affair that wasn't his fault? Of course, not. She identified with the pain the child must be experiencing. All she wanted was a way to bring him here, so she could see that he received what every child deserved—love.
"Kelly, we've always been so close. I'm positive if you married me, you would come to love me the way you loved Daniel. We could adopt Rafi."
Matt's words didn't come as a total surprise; Kelly had known he hadn't stopped caring about her just because Daniel had blazed into her life. Kelly almost said, yes, but stopped herself in time.
How self-centered could she be? Matthew Jensen had been her friend since the first day she'd set a foot on the Yale campus. He'd championed her even to this point when her career had been in the gutter.
Didn't Matt deserve someone who truly loved him?
Kelly chose her words carefully. "I have no idea how I am going to handle this situation. But I can't take advantage of you simply because I want Daniel's son. That wouldn't be fair to you. You must marry someone who truly loves you."
* * *
Chapter 11
« ^ »
Logan booted up his computer and saw his e-mail icon flashing. It could only be Raptor. About time. He'd been waiting for over a week to hear from his commander.
We have a new field assignment for you. In six months we'll relocate you in Africa. Until then you are on leave. Have some fun for a change.
Raptor
"Fun? Aw, crap," Logan stared at the message on the screen. It had been two weeks since the Exposé article had been published. He'd known the Cobras couldn't send him back to South America even though he was an expert in the area and spoke Spanish fluently.
"Why Africa?"
Terrorism was common in North Africa, especially in Egypt, but he knew Raptor well enough to realize that he would have specified North Africa if that was where he was being reassigned. He'd be out in bum-fuck, rotting away in some country most Americans couldn't spell or find on a map, a country that changed its name with every coup.
"Don't jump to conclusions," he muttered as he shut off the machine.
He walked over to the open French doors and stood on the small patio. The lights in the main house were out. Pop was asleep earlier than usual. No doubt he was exhausted after their hike in Lockett Meadow high up in the San Francisco peaks. Pop insisted that they go there to see the aspens turn.
A small lake had reflected the craggy peaks with ribbons of blazing aspens flowing into the ridges between the rocks. It was nature at its best, but the lake reminded Logan of the pond behind the camp where he'd grown up.
"Forget it." He kept the past locked out of his thoughts—most of the time.
He looked toward the other casita to get his mind back on track. Kelly's lights were still on, and if the last week was typical, they'd be on most of the night. What was she doing? He'd expected her to continue to pry the details of his past out of him, the way she had just after the barbecue, but she hadn't.
After Matthew Jensen left town, Kelly had been strangely subdued. She always had dinner with them, but she didn't say very much. Pop probably knew what was wrong, but he hadn't told Logan.
It was just about the only thing about Kelly that Pop hadn't mentioned. Logan and Pop spent their days on the hiking trails around Sedona because it was the only place reporters weren't looking for him. Pop's health kept them off the steepest trails, but he enjoyed getting out.
Pop was someone special. He took great pride in two things. Nature and Kelly. He knew the name of every plant and animal they came across. With amazing detail he recalled Kelly's accomplishments from her first piano recital to her graduation from Yale.
Despite his willingness to share those stories, Pop never mentioned Kelly's wedding or anything about Daniel Taylor. Logan had asked and found out the wedding had been here in the Catholic church. The reception had been held at the Poco Diablo resort.
"Kelly was the most beautiful bride in the world," Pop had assured him. Not that Logan had any doubts. Other women were prettier, but there was something special about Kelly. He could just imagine her coming down the aisle, eyes bright, face glowing with love.
"Marriage. What a crock!" he said out loud. He'd never attended a wedding. Hell, he'd never bee
n in a church except the time when he and Brodie had hidden in some musty chapel in Colombia, one step ahead of hit men from a drug cartel.
He needed to hightail it out of here. He was becoming way too fond of Pop. And he was spending too much time thinking about Kelly. He hadn't been laid in three weeks, an all time record. That must be why Kelly was on his mind so much.
Leave tomorrow. But where would he go? Six months was a long time to "have fun" if every reporter on the planet was after you.
When were they going to give up?
A noise from the underbrush nearby distracted him. Probably just a javelina. Pop said they hunted at night. For the hell of it, he went inside and took his binoculars out of his pack. They were a military prototype, and like the miniature computer, not available to the public.
The binoculars fit in the palm of his hand, yet they were extraordinarily powerful and had a night-vision adapter. He checked the underbrush. Sure enough. It was a javelina.
For kicks he scanned the area and spotted a mountain lion on a ledge a quarter of a mile away. No, not a mountain lion, he decided, observing the creature more closely, noting the tufts of fur that made its ears pointed. A bobcat.
He swung around and accidentally picked up Kelly. He flicked off the night vision and looked at her for just a minute. Her expression made something tighten in his chest. She wasn't crying, but it might have been better if she were.
What was wrong?
He told himself to look away and not invade her privacy. There was something in her hand. His curiosity got the better of him. He took a closer look and discovered Kelly was staring at a photograph of a young boy.
Pop had never mentioned a child, he thought as he forced himself to put down the binoculars. Kelly and Pop had no immediate family—just each other. So who was the little boy?
Why do you care?
The little voice in his brain kept him on course. He didn't give a damn. It was time to get the hell out of Dodge.
* * *
"I told you that we should have killed him."
How often was she going to remind him? Since Logan McCord's little stunt at the barbecue, she'd harped on this endlessly. Tonight they were in his room, stretched out across his bed, their clothes tossed on the floor.