by Julie Miller
“Toft!” Molly snatched her hand away in a startled giggle when the horse snorted in response to her petting.
“You tickled her.”
“Here. I’ll take a load off your hands.” Kyle swept Molly into his arms.
He put his lips to her cheek and snorted a zerbert against her skin, delighting his daughter. She grabbed Kyle’s face between her chubby fingers and shouted again. “Horsey!”
Laura Foster possessed the cool serenity that reminded Whitney of her mother. But there was no doubt in Whitney’s mind that she adored Molly and had found her perfect match in Kyle. Something about the way they were always holding hands gave them away. “Will you be staying in Montana long?” she asked.
Whitney shrugged her shoulders. “As long as it takes. There’s still some paperwork to wrap up.”
Kyle pulled his gaze away from Molly. “Paperwork nothing. We’re going to get you out in the field again.”
Whitney beamed beneath his praise. “Thanks, Kyle.”
“Oh, Jewel was looking for you in the barn.”
Her smile faded. During her trip to Washington, the inevitable had finally happened. Silver had succumbed to old age and pneumonia. Whitney felt guilty for not being here when Jewel had needed her. The twelve-year-old had lost much more than a horse. She’d lost a prized friend.
“I’d better check it out.”
She breathed deeply and braced herself as she strolled to the barn. She found Jewel cleaning out one of the stalls. Whitney grabbed a pitchfork to lend a hand. “Hey, champ.”
“Hi, Whit.”
She’d try regular conversation first. “Did you talk to Charlie Korbett yet? He came with his sister to the barbecue.” Charlie’s sister, Sabrina, had recently married Court Brody, an old flame and father of her sixteen-month-old son.
“He hasn’t talked to me yet.”
“That could be because he’s outside playing horseshoes, and you’re in here mucking out stalls.”
“I don’t feel like playing.”
“Maybe you could just go watch. I think he’s kickin’ Court’s butt out there.”
Jewel sighed with all the drama of an adolescent. “You know, there’s no one to talk to when you’re not here.”
“I can’t be here twenty-four hours a day, champ. But there are lots of people around here who care about you.”
“I know. But Gramps is sad about Silver, too.”
Whitney moved the wheelbarrow to the next stall. This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to spend her day, but if Jewel needed her… “I don’t just mean Frank and Dale. What about C.J.?”
Jewel wrinkled up her nose. “Frank’s wife?”
Whitney shook her head. Was she ever this age? Okay, so maybe a couple of weeks ago. But she got over it. “You know she cares about you. Look at all the times she’s tried to talk to you, invite you places. She doesn’t want to come between you and Frank’s friendship. She wants to become another friend.”
“Maybe.” Jewel was weakening. “But she doesn’t know anything about horses.”
“I’ll bet she knows about losing something you care about.”
Jewel gave the idea some consideration. “She doesn’t have any parents, does she?”
“No.”
“That’s gotta be tough.”
After a few minutes of working in companionable silence, Whitney thought they should get out into what was left of the sunlight. “C’mon. I told Dale I’d help with dinner, and it’s almost four o’clock.”
“She’s gonna let you cook?”
Whitney stuck out her tongue. “I get to help set the table.”
Jewel took both pitchforks and hung them up. Whitney disposed of the wheelbarrow. She hugged the girl to her side and they walked out of the barn together. She was glad to see that Jewel’s smile matched her own. But then the girl stopped and pulled away.
“You’re not going up to the house?”
“No.” Jewel’s blond pigtails were already flying out behind her. “I’m gonna go beat Charlie. Hey—tell Frank and C.J. to come on out.”
Whitney waved at Court and Charlie. She found Sabrina on the porch swing, rocking the baby to sleep. She tiptoed over. “How’s he doing?”
Sabrina shook back her long brown hair and grinned. “Just like his daddy. Plays hard ’til he drops. Then falls to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.”
Whitney turned at the footsteps running up behind her. Court squeezed her shoulder and pressed a kiss to Whitney’s cheek as he circled her. “I heard that.”
In one fluid movement he slipped onto the porch swing beside his wife and tipped her chin up for his kiss. Then, like the proud papa he was, he scooped his son into his arms and cradled the sleeping boy on his shoulder.
He thumbed back at the horseshoe pit. “I thought I’d give young love a shot. They don’t need an old guy like me hanging around.”
Sabrina grabbed his knee and turned for another kiss. “Don’t sell yourself short, cowboy.”
Whitney silently excused herself from the ongoing debate.
She found Frank and C.J. Connolly in the kitchen. C.J. was brewing a pot of tea, and in her very proper British accent was regaling Frank with the history of this particular leaf. The former military pilot sat on a stool, leaning toward her across the counter, drinking in every word.
Whitney averted her face, squelching the urge to point out to C.J. that Frank was watching her lips. He inched his way closer and closer while C.J. chatted, until he raised up on his elbows and kissed her.
“Yes. Well.” C.J. tucked her straight blond hair behind her ear and gave him a stern look. Tough-guy Frank curled his lips into something like a pout and C.J. laughed. She cupped his cheek and kissed him back.
By the time Whitney cleared her throat to make her presence known, there’d been a great deal of kissing and laughing.
C.J. blushed and Frank sat back on his stool. “Hey, kid. You need something?”
“Jewel’s invited you both out to play horseshoes.”
“Really?” C.J. pressed her fingers to her lips. Her expression was a blend of doubt and hope. Frank reached across the counter and squeezed her hand in support. “You’re sure?”
Whitney shrugged. “I can’t make any guarantees, but I think she’s seeing you in a new light.”
“Frank, let’s go.” C.J. led Frank into the dining room and Whitney followed.
“I thought I had table detail.” She nodded toward the dining-room table which had already been set for fifteen, plus high chairs for the two little ones. She counted the place settings again. There was one for each Montana Confidential member and his family—or her guest. Plus two more. “Are we having company?”
Frank nodded. “Sheridan and Jessie Austin.”
Whitney clapped her hands together. “He called them?”
“He thought since the job was done out here, he’d take a shot at reconciliation.”
“Yes!” This was great news. Seeing his ex-wife and his son would be the best antidote for the weary frowns Daniel had been sporting lately.
Daniel was wearing a path on the rug in his office when Whitney opened the door. Her heart went out to this man who commanded authority. This man who had taken her under his wing and stuck by her even when he hadn’t wanted the job.
“You look fine.” Whitney walked in and straightened the collar of his blue plaid western-cut shirt. “This look suits you.”
“She said she’d be here at four.” He checked his watch. “It’s four-ten.”
“Give her time. Not everybody drives like I do.”
“Thank God for that.” He resumed his pacing. “What am I going to say to her?”
Whitney planted herself in his path. “What do you want to say?”
Daniel raked his fingers through his hair. “That I’m sorry. That I made a mistake. That I’m a different man now than I was when I left her.”
“That all sounds good.”
“How do I know if she even feels
anything for me still?”
Whitney smoothed the lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. “She’s coming all the way from Maryland to see you. She feels something.”
“But where do I start?”
“Tell her you love her. Then take it from there.”
Five minutes later, he bolted out of the house and down the steps to greet Sheridan and Jessie. He hurried around the car and opened the door for a gently pretty woman with shoulder-length, chestnut hair. There were hushed words between them.
And then Daniel wrapped her up in a fierce embrace. The woman stretched up on tiptoe and clung to him. A young boy, about Jewel’s age, climbed out of the car and ran around to join them. Daniel reached out and pulled the boy into their hug.
The whole Confidential team and their families stood on the porch and watched with unabashed curiosity and approval. Whitney’s eyes grew hot and misted over. “That’s Sheridan and Jessie, I take it?”
Frank winked. “That’s them.”
Whitney felt suddenly alone amongst all her friends. “Has anybody seen Vincent?”
“SO, ROMEO. What do you think of the place?”
After everyone had eaten their fill of slow-roasted barbecue, potato salad and corn on the cob, and done enough talking to do any family reunion proud, Daniel asked Whitney and Vincent to go down to the war room with him.
Vincent traced his fingers along the keys of a satellite cartography system, admiring it like a restored vintage Harley. Whitney found out that he’d disappeared down here for the afternoon. He was a man who liked his gadgets, after all. “Quite a setup. I’m impressed with the technology and support.”
“Good.” Daniel propped his hip on the corner of a desk and crossed his arms. “I have a proposition for you.”
“You’re not gettin’ me to move to Montana. The fresh air’s nice, but I’m a city boy.”
Daniel laughed. “Then I’ve got just the thing for you.” Vincent’s gaze sharpened as Daniel grew serious. “The Department of Public Safety needs a man to outfit a Confidential agency in Chicago. With your NSA training and connections to the city, I thought you’d be the perfect candidate. You interested in the job?”
Vincent went still. That utterly quiet kind of still that sucked the energy from the atmosphere and put Whitney on alert.
“Yes.” Daniel stood, ready to shake hands and call it a deal. But Whitney knew better. Vincent hadn’t moved yet. “On one condition.”
Daniel gave an affable shrug. “I think the DPS is willing to be flexible. What is it?”
“That Whitney goes with me. As my wife.”
Whitney sank into the chair behind her. The breath she held whooshed out and left her light-headed.
Vincent came to her and took her hand. She followed as he sat back on a desktop and pulled her into the vee of his legs. His hands settled at her waist in a familiar possessive grasp. He looked her in the eye and said simply, “I love you.”
Whitney was only marginally aware of the elevator door closing behind Daniel. She stared at Vincent’s lips, wondering if they had formed those three words she just heard. She looked into his eyes, dark pools of midnight glass that always told her the truth.
She ran her fingertips along his cheek and jaw, then settled them onto his lips.
“I love you.” He said it again. Twice. Vincent talking. Not a fluke.
She felt the words with her touch. Heard them in the rasp of his voice. Felt them in the depths of her soul.
“I know you love me.”
She threw her arms around him and hugged him with all the strength she possessed. She rubbed her cheek against his five o’clock shadow and flattened her palms against his hair. She absorbed his heat into her skin and his clean, leathery scent into her nose.
She sensed his confusion and leaned back against the brace of his hands. “I figured it out a while back. You confirmed it in D.C. with that whole rose fiasco.” Whitney opened up her heart and let it shine through. “Even though you’re a man of few words, your eyes and actions have told me you love me time and again.”
Those same beautiful eyes caressed her face. He twirled a finger into a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “If you know so much, MacNair, why didn’t you tell me? You like doing that.”
She splayed her fingers across his chest, pressed them flat against the beat of his strong heart. “I just wanted you to realize it for yourself. I wanted you to choose to love me.”
“Oh, I do, MacNair.” His fingers slipped into her hair and pulled her close. “I do.”
He punctuated his promise with a kiss that stole her willing heart.
“You think your family’s going to accept me?” he asked after a while, still tasting her freckles with his lips.
“I think so. Anyway, I’m a big enough girl to make my own decisions. I love you. I want to marry you and move to Chicago. I want to fight by your side against injustice in this world and I want to have your babies.”
“Not at the same time.”
She laughed at the gruff command, knowing he protected so well because he loved her.
“Besides,” she teased, “think of the shopping there!”
She laughed in delight, watching him shake his head. “There’s Water Tower Place. Marshall Field. Neiman Marcus—”
Vincent silenced his woman with a kiss.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Julie Miller for her contribution to the MONTANA CONFIDENTIAL series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6748-4
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*The Taylor Clan
*The Taylor Clan