by Terri Reed
After shutting the barn door, Tyler retraced his steps to the back of the farmhouse and entered the back door. He threw the bolt into place.
“What did you see?” Heather’s whispered question brought him up short. He spun around and could just barely make out her form. She stood in the archway of the kitchen, the frying pan clutched in her hands.
Achingly familiar with the damage the utensil could inflict, he kept his distance. “Someone was in the barn. They ran away when they realized I was there.”
“I can’t believe how paranoid I’m being,” she said, laying the frying pan on the counter. “It was probably one of the farm employees checking on the barn animals. He’s probably calling the police on you as we speak.”
Following Heather into the living room, Tyler said, “Maybe.” But he wasn’t so sure. If it had been an employee who had every right to be there, why hadn’t he confronted Tyler? “But you did receive a threatening phone call, right? Your paranoia is appropriate.”
She blew out a breath. “You’re right.” She turned on a table lamp before picking up several books and arranging them in the bookcase.
“You can go on to bed and get some sleep,” he told her. “I’ll take care of this while I stand watch.”
She made a face. “I won’t get any sleep, so I might as well tackle this now.”
He didn’t blame her. She’d had a scary night, and there was a stranger in her house. He grabbed some books and handed them to her so she could place them on the shelf.
“Do you have a wife? Kids?”
The question punched him in the gut, stirring up an old dream that he knew would never happen for him. “No. I’m not husband material, let alone father material.”
“Why would you say that?”
Aware of her curious glances, he kept his attention on the book in his hands. “I don’t lead the kind of life that lends itself to settling down in one place for very long.”
“Surely you must have a home somewhere.”
He had an apartment where he stored his few belongings, but he wouldn’t call the place homey. Not anything close to what she meant. “Los Angeles.”
“Parents? Siblings?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Do you always grill your guests like this?”
She matched his arched eyebrow with one of her own. “You aren’t a guest. You came uninvited into my house, my life. I think I can ask you all the questions I want.”
Liking her spunk, he said, “Touché.” He handed her a book. “In answer to your question, no. I’m alone in the world, and I like it that way.”
He wouldn’t mention that deep inside, in places he’d rather ignore, the acute emptiness of his life pressed in on him like a boulder that wouldn’t budge.
Placing the last book onto the shelf, he cleared his throat and wished he could clear away his thoughts as easily. He sat in the wingback chair by the front door and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some rest.”
He closed his eyes, hopefully putting an end to her curiosity. Not that he was about to sleep, not when the danger plaguing the farm could strike at any moment. On any undercover assignment or stakeout, one learned how to rest while still staying alert.
For a moment she was silent. Then he thought he heard a little huff of exasperation as she moved to the couch. A moment later the light winked out. He smiled in the dark.
* * *
Rest, my eye! Heather shifted on the leather couch. She was certain the man sitting across the darkened room had no intention of sleeping. He’d just wanted to stop her questions, which only made her more curious about him. What made a man like Tyler go into law enforcement? Why the drug enforcement agency? Why was he alone in the world?
If not for Colin, she’d be alone in the world, too.
The familiar ache of loneliness camped out in her chest. She missed her husband. Missed having someone she could count on to always have her back, to hold her when the world became too much.
In the years since his death, she’d had to learn to be strong on her own. For Colin. For herself.
Had Tyler lost someone, too? Was that the hurt she sensed in him?
The trill of her cell phone startled her. She flinched and quickly dug it out of the pocket of her sweatpants.
“Put it on speaker.” Tyler’s voice came to her in the dark.
Remembering the last call, she really wanted to ignore it, but burying her head in the sand wasn’t smart. She needed to face this head-on. She pressed the answer button and then the speaker icon. “Hello.”
“I told you once,” said a muffled male voice. “You need to leave the farm. Do it now! It’s not safe for you here.” The caller hung up after the last word.
Alarm wormed its way through her, making her tremble.
Tyler moved to sit beside her. “Turn on the light.”
With shaky hands, she groped for the switch. She turned the table lamp on and was grateful when the light dispelled the gloom.
Tyler was on his phone. “Hey, I need a call traced now.” He held out his hand for her phone. She set it in his palm. He quickly rattled off her phone number to whomever was on the other side of his phone conversation. “The caller ID comes up blocked. I need to know where the call originated and if the phone can be tracked.” He cupped a hand over the phone’s microphone. “This will take a few minutes.”
Heather drew her knees to her chest as they waited. The tick of her mother’s grandfather clock sitting on the mantel seemed extraordinarily loud.
She knew the moment they had an answer by the troubled look on Tyler’s face. Her blood ran cold in her veins. As soon as he hung up, she asked, “What happened? Were they able to trace the call?”
“They were able to triangulate the approximate location.” He laid her phone on the couch. “The call originated from somewhere here on the farm.”
Her stomach sank. Betrayal swamped her. She’d stepped into a surreal world where she had no idea what was what. Not only had her brother not trusted her enough to tell her what was going on, but someone on the farm wanted her gone.
“Once the guys and I have secured our covers, you and Colin should leave.”
She let out a mirthless laugh. “We have nowhere else to go.”
“Your in-laws?”
“I told you—they’re in an assisted-living facility in Florida.”
“A friend? Seth’s fiancée?”
Her shoulders sagged. “My life revolves around the farm and Colin now. There’s no one who I’d feel comfortable asking to stay with, especially with Thanksgiving coming up. As for Olivia, I’d rather keep her out of this. She’s grieving. She doesn’t need to know about Seth’s troubles.”
“Maybe she already knows?”
Heather shook her head. “Liv is as uptight as they come. No way would she have let Seth get away with what he was doing.” She shrugged. “Besides, when I talked to her at Seth’s funeral, she said she was going to visit her folks in California for the holiday.”
Tyler laid his hand on her arm. “Don’t worry, Heather. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or your son.”
As much as she wanted to believe him, she knew that life could turn on a dime. A life, any life, could be snuffed out as quickly and as silently as a candle’s flame.
* * *
The next morning dawned with a cloudless blue sky bathing the living room in soft light. Heather rubbed her stiff neck and glanced at the time on her phone. Early still. The farm employees wouldn’t start their day for another couple of hours. Good. She needed some time to figure out how she was going to explain why she’d formed a partnership. She’d just buried her brother.
The thought brought the ache of loss to the forefront of her mind, diminishing the physical pain of st
iff muscles from falling asleep sitting upright on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her. With a little start, she realized Tyler had spread the blanket that had hung on the back of the couch over her while she slept.
She was touched by Tyler’s thoughtfulness, and her gaze landed on the man sleeping in the chair across the room. After the second menacing phone call, he’d double-checked that all the windows and doors were locked. He’d taken her rolling pin and placed it into the channel of the windowsill in Seth’s room, saying the window would be too easy to jimmy open.
Now his eyes were closed, his legs spread out in front of him and his arms hugged a pillow to his chest like a favored toy. For some reason the sight stirred something inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a long time and refused to feel now. Not for this man. Not for any man. She’d had her one true love.
In the light of day, Tyler was even more of a presence than he’d been last night. His day’s growth of beard darkened his jaw, emphasizing the contours of his face. Dark circles rimmed his eyes beneath the splay of long lashes resting against his cheeks.
Despite her anger at Agent Tyler Griffin, she appreciated that he accepted the responsibility for her brother’s murder. He didn’t make excuses, but he’d pushed her brother to risk his life, a means to an end. He’d put his mission before her brother’s safety.
Ken had been like that. Quick to assume responsibility. Always putting the military before his family. She hated the little whisper of bitterness that floated at the edges of her mind. She’d admired Ken’s dedication at first but came to resent it in time.
It had been five years since he’d left on that final mission, promising to return soon. And not a moment went by when she didn’t hope there’d been some mistake and he’d come home to her and Colin.
Ken had been the love of her life. She doubted she’d ever find anyone she could love like that again. The thought filled her with a stinging emptiness.
One of Tyler’s eyes popped open. Caught staring, she felt a heated flush creep up her neck. She took that as her cue to stand and divert her attention, which was hard to do considering every fiber of her being was aware of the man stirring in the chair. Plus the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was interested in him in any way.
The sooner they found Seth’s journal, the quicker Tyler would be gone from her life and she could grieve in peace without worrying about drug lords and murderers.
Tyler sat up and tucked his sidearm back into its holster. He met her gaze. “G’morning.”
“Morning,” she replied and stretched out the kinks from the awkward position she’d maintained through the night. She went to the front window and pulled the curtains back all the way. The view of the acres of trees stretching out in all directions usually brought her a nostalgic sense of pride. This morning however, she felt only anxious.
Someone living on the farm had probably killed her brother.
And threatened her.
Who?
She clenched her fists at her sides. A sense of betrayal wrapped around her, making her pulse pound.
The quick footsteps of her son racing down the stairs forced back the tide of anger. She rounded the couch and caught him in her arms.
Lifting him high, she said, “Whoa, slow down, little man.”
He stared at her with frightened eyes. “You weren’t in your room.”
She hugged him to her chest, sensing his unspoken fear that she, too, would go away. “I’m right here, buddy.”
Colin pulled back and leaned to peer around her shoulder. “Good morning, Mr. Tyler. Are you having breakfast with us?” Colin asked.
Heather’s heart hiccupped. Her son was so accepting, so trusting. She prayed he never lost that ability.
“Not today, buddy. But thank you for asking me.”
Heather met Tyler’s gaze. He clearly wanted to talk to her. She ruffled Colin’s hair. “How about pancakes?”
Colin let out a whoop. “Pancakes!”
The second she set him on his feet, he was off at a mad dash to the dining room. The sound of a chair being dragged across the hardwood floor to the kitchen counter filled the house. A cupboard banged open. She tensed, hoping the glass bowl she imagined Colin reaching for didn’t slip from his hands and break on the counter.
Tyler came to stand beside her. Her senses flared as waves of heat coming off him warmed her chilled limbs.
“I take it pancakes are a special treat?”
Tyler’s low voice washed over her, making her pulse spike. Uncomfortable with her reaction to him, she stepped away. “Yes. Pancakes are a special treat.”
One corner of Tyler’s mouth curved upward, making him look boyish and roguish at the same time. “I’d love a rain check.”
Words stuck in her throat. She nodded.
“I’m going to retrieve my truck,” he said, keeping his voice low so Colin wouldn’t hear him, which she appreciated. “I left it out on the shoulder of Johnstone Lane. I’ll return with my colleagues Blake and Nathanial.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” she replied. “We’ll be okay.” She hoped.
“Let me program my number into your phone,” he said. “Just in case. The guys aren’t staying far away. We’ll be back within the hour.”
As she watched him punching his numbers into her phone, she had the strangest urge to plead with him not to go. She lifted her chin in determination. She would not let fear rule her life.
* * *
Tyler hesitated, suddenly loath to leave Heather and Colin, even for as long as it would take him to get his truck, go to the motel to retrieve his travel bag and the guys and then drive back here. He had a sneaking suspicion that the reason he didn’t want to leave was much more complex than he wanted to admit.
This whole assignment had become extremely unpredictable. Heather and her son were distractions he couldn’t afford, yet he had to stick close. To protect them.
Yeah, that was right. Wanting to stick close to the stunning widow had nothing to do with the fact he found Heather appealing.
He couldn’t forget his primary objective was to bring down the drug ring and discover the identity of the mastermind. Not yearn for the dark-haired beauty.
Stalling, he found the restroom and freshened up as much as he could. But he wished he had his to-go bag handy. The stubble on his face itched. He stepped into the living room and made a decision.
Making sure his sidearm was concealed beneath his shirt, he entered the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. Colin stood on a chair pushed up to the counter. Heather was pouring milk into the measuring cup Colin held over a large bowl. The domestic scene looked like something one would see in a greeting card. Tenderness flooded his system.
“That’s enough, Mommy,” Colin exclaimed, then dumped the milk into the bowl.
Heather set the milk carton aside and handed him an egg. “You remember how to crack this?”
“Yes, I can do it myself,” Colin insisted, snatching the egg from her hand.
Heather met Tyler’s gaze over Colin’s head. “Honey, I’ll be right back. Try not to let any of the shells get into the mix.”
Heather moved to stand in front of Tyler. She’d tied her dark hair back with a ribbon. White flour dusted her cheek. She looked so pretty and so fragile. The oversize sweats she wore hid her feminine form, but her beauty went deeper than her skin. It was in the gentle way she related to her son, in the way she’d taken care of Tyler’s injury. An injury she’d inflicted out of fear and the need to protect her child.
Beneath that soft female exterior was a strong and brave woman.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, everything’s good.” He was quick to assure her. “I was thinking I’d have the guys pick up my truck and head on over here. If you’re okay with that plan.”
<
br /> The relieved smile she flashed hit him square in the chest.
“Of course it’s okay. That would be great. We’ll make plenty of pancakes.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Heather’s dining room was filled with three large men and one small boy who stared at the newcomers with awe as they ate pancake after pancake. She’d made a triple batch of pancake batter, fried up three pounds of bacon and made a gallon of orange juice. Though it had been years, she remembered what it was like to cook for hungry men. Ken had brought home his army buddies often to their small duplex on the Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Tacoma, Washington.
Heather didn’t blame Colin for being mesmerized. She’d forgotten what it was like to be around men like these. Hard men. Men who not only faced danger but sought it out.
She’d thought Tyler intimidating on his own. Flanked by his fellow team members, she pitied anyone who would take on this trio.
US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent Blake Fallon’s hard features could cut diamonds out of stone. Though she doubted the stoic man realized how his penetrating dark gaze softened when he answered Colin’s many questions in the subtle accent of the Southern states.
The other man, Canadian Customs Border Patrol agent Nathanial Longhorn, was charm personified. His comments made Colin giggle in a way usually reserved for silly cartoons. But there was a lethal grace to the man that made Heather suspect he was the type of guy one wouldn’t want to cross.
“That was delicious.” Tyler tilted his chair back on two legs and smiled at her across the table.
His praise brought heat to her cheeks.
“Thank you, Mrs. Randall,” Blake said. His deep voice rumbled from his chest. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a decent meal.”
“Hey, now,” Nathanial said. “My cooking’s not that bad.”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “Says you.”
“You make a mean hot dog,” Tyler quipped.
Heather couldn’t help but laugh at the ribbing between the men.
“I will admit these pancakes were out of this world,” Nathanial stated, then eyed Heather. “There was a touch of vanilla and something else...”