So the Heart Can Dance (A Hidden Beauty Novel Book 2)

by Mary Crawford

  “Hey, I said I was sorry!” Marcus protests.

  I catch his eye and shake my head slightly. He glances at me and whispers, “I didn’t?” I shake my head again. “Oh Geez!” he murmurs “No wonder she’s ticked at me.”

  Marcus clears his throat, “I’m sorry I’ve been talking much more than I’ve been listening today, and I’m sorry I embarrassed you. You called me for help and I haven’t really been there for you today. What do you need from me?”

  Rogue’s eyes fill up with tears as she replies, “That’s all I wanted Marcus. I just needed to know you really heard me, because that little drama we just went through is nothing compared to what I’m about to tell you, so I need to know that you’re going to be a grown-up about this. I need the Marcus that I can count on to be my rock, not the one who can burp the alphabet.”

  Not for the first time in this conversation, I begin to wonder if my presence is intrusive and wrong. I’m feeling very much like a third wheel. I softly clear my throat because they seem to have forgotten that I’m even there. “I have some business I could do in my car, if it would make you feel more comfortable,” I offer.

  Rogue looks panicked. “No, Tristan, please don’t leave. I want you to be here when I explain the situation to Marcus. He’s probably going to have questions I don’t know the answer to,” she says as her eyes plead. She grabs my hand and holds on tightly. “Please stay.”

  “I just didn’t want to intrude on your private conversations,” I explain looking back and forth between Marcus and Rogue.

  “I suspect there’s going to be very little that’s private between us over the next few months. I think we’re probably going to be living out of each other’s pockets. I think after today none of our lives are ever going to be the same. You may both regret the day you ever met me, “Rogue responds frankly.

  I look directly at Marcus, “How do you feel about me being all up in your business?” I ask.

  Marcus shrugs as he replies, “If Rogue is cool with it, I’m down with it too. You seem like a straight shooter to me. I know this goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. If you hurt Rogue in any way, you’ll have to deal with me.”

  “Understood.” I state. “I would never intentionally hurt her, but she’s going to be thrust into the middle of a very emotionally charged situation. Things could get dicey and communication may break down. It’s going to be tough on everyone. We’ll all have to work hard to pull together instead of apart.”

  Marcus looks back and forth between us and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Will you two stop talking in code and just tell me what’s going on?” he demands.

  I lean over and murmur into Rogue’s ear, “Relax, you can do this. I’m right here if you need some help. Remember, Marcus is a friendly audience.”

  Rogue squeezes my hand and takes a shaky breath as she says, “Remember that strange picture of me on BrainsRSexy.com?”

  Marcus nods. “I don’t know why you object to that picture so much. I think you look amazing in it.”

  “Oh I agree. I think both the dress and the makeup are phenomenal. But, it’s not me.”

  Marcus squints at the picture as he comments,” I don’t get it. You go on lots of modeling gigs where you wear other people’s clothes. I’ve never seen you act this way before. What’s the big deal?”

  “No, I don’t mean I don’t like the style. I mean it literally is not me,” Rogue clarifies.

  Marcus picks up the picture and studies it more closely. After a couple of minutes he carefully sets the picture down. I notice his hands are trembling.

  He looks back and forth between Rogue and me. He looks like he’s hoping for an early arrival of April Fools’ Day. He performs a cursory search of the room for cameras as he demands, “Are you guys punkin’ me?”

  Rogue is squeezing my hand so tight my fingers are numb. I’m a little awestruck by this small act of trust.

  We both vigorously shake our heads no.

  Marcus stands up aggressively and grabs the front of my shirt as he growls, “Just what kind of scam are you trying to pull here? I thought you were going to look out for Rogue.”

  Rogue looks a little shell-shocked at his outburst. Yet, I’m really not. I’d be suspicious as hell too. In this day and age, it is remarkably easy to doctor photographs.

  “Marcus Taylor Brolin! Apologize right now!” Rogue demands.

  “Rogue, there’s really no reason for him to apologize. He is just worried about you. He doesn’t know me from Adam. For all he knows, I could be some world-class scammer. I’m not. But, he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know I routinely work on projects with the Department of Homeland Security and the Secret Service. I have the highest level of security clearance that exists outside of the president’s detail. I’m not going to jeopardize that just to mess with all of you.”

  “Well La-Dee-La Mr. Super Secret Agent,” Marcus snarls. “What are you doing with the likes of us?”

  “I’m trying to help solve a mystery,” I respond quietly.

  “Why would you take on a case like Rogue? She’s got no money for you to drain.”

  The corner of my mouth quirks up at the audaciousness of his suggestion. This statement even earns a strangled giggle from Rogue. She sighs as she cautions, “Seriously, Marc. Just stop. You’re burying yourself a really big hole here. Tristan is on our side. Please just try to listen without marking me up like a fire hydrant.”

  Marcus makes a face as he responds, “That’s disgusting Ro.”

  “Yeah? Then I suggest you sit your butt down and hear us out Macho Boy,” she answers with an arched eyebrow.

  Reluctantly, Marcus lets go of my shirt and sits back down in his chair. He takes a long drink of his Red Bull, before setting it back on the table and scooting it away. He picks up the picture and studies it again. “You’re right. Whoever this is, it isn’t Rogue. This person has a scar over her left eyebrow.”

  I’m impressed. I’ve looked at those pictures for almost three weeks and hadn’t noticed that discrepancy.

  “So, who is this mystery woman?” Marcus asks impatiently.

  “We think she’s probably my twin,” Rogue announces with more clarity than I expected.

  Marcus looks at me with skepticism as he probes, “You think or you know? Because as far as I know, Rogue isn’t even adopted. This could all be some elaborate identity theft.”

  I can’t help but smile at the irony of his accusation. It seems as if we’ve now come full circle. “Funny you should say that. Because, that’s exactly the puzzle Ivy asked me to figure out. She was trying to determine whether Rogue was trying to steal her identity,” I explain.

  Marcus’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline and his job drops to the floor. “What?” he exclaims. “That’s insane! Rogue is the most honest person I know. She would never do anything like that.”

  “I don’t believe that Ivy Montclair would either. We think that they were victims of a weird twin telepathic phenomenon which resulted in a computer glitch. This caused their dating profiles to merge online. If it weren’t for that bizarre coincidence, they might not have ever found out about the existence of the other,” I clarify.

  “So, does this Ivy know about Rogue?” Marcus asks.

  “Rogue and I just put those pieces of the puzzle together a few minutes ago, based on additional information she gave me. I haven’t had a chance to tell Ivy. I think it’s something that I should do in person,” I state.

  “I think I should be there in case she wants to meet me,” Rogue suggests as she squeezes my hand.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea,” I caution. “This news might come as a huge shock and she may not be ready to meet with you yet. I don’t want you to be disappointed. I do a fair amount of skip tracing and adoption reunions and the one thing I can predict is they’re always unpredictable. They are often emotionally charged and volatile—especially if she’s not expecting you to be there.”

  Rogue turns in her chair
so she’s completely facing me. She grabs my other hand and looks directly at me as she pleads, “I don’t know how to explain this, but, I have to be there when you tell her. I’ll bring Marcus for emotional support so you can focus on taking care of Ivy. Now that I know that she’s out there, I can’t ignore her existence. I’ve got to see tangible proof of that connection. I know you don’t understand and right now I can’t adequately explain myself. It’s just something I’ve always felt.”

  I’ve got my own reasons for completely understanding where she’s coming from. So, I merely nod and ask her, “Does Saturday work for you?”

  To all to the people who have overcome seemingly insurmountable fear. and accomplished the impossible.

  To all those standing in the wings helping to make those dreams possible.

  Leaving the stifling environment of the rental car, I stand and stretch. Give me a crowded subway any day, at least I don’t have to drive. Still, as I look around at the tall pine trees surrounding me and spot a field of wilting sunflowers, I can’t believe it’s fall and everything isn’t buried in snow and concrete. As I take a deep breath of crisp clean autumn air, I decide Oregon isn’t completely without charm. I’m not sure I’d want to live here, but it’s a nice place to visit.

  I peek into the darkness of the big red barn and yell to my sister, “Heather, I don’t understand why you had to move to the middle of nowhere. I mean, Oregon is nice and all but, you can get perfectly good greenery at a florist that doesn’t have bugs. Do I even want to know what all this dirt is doing to your shoes?” I’m immediately accosted by a spider-web. I love Charlotte’s Web as much as the next girl, but come on…farm life is not really the utopia I was lead to believe as a child. I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that my somewhat over-the-top stylish big sister has chosen this quiet rural life. Last I knew, she pretty much hated the whole animal kingdom—Okay to be fair she didn’t really hate them, she was just so scared of them. She wanted them to live on another planet.

  I take one more step and start to slip on some hay. Pardon the pun, but it’s just about the very last straw I can take. I steady myself and yell deeper into the barn, “This was all Tyler’s idea wasn’t it? Of course it was! He’s a guy. That explains it all right there. All men are imbecilic, moronic downright evil creatures. I don’t know why you had to go and marry yourself one. For God’s sake the man isn’t even here. He just had to go play G.I. Joe over in the desert.”

  “Are you finished?” A deep, gravelly male voice asks, causing me to jump about a mile in the air.

  “Who the hell are you?” I ask as I pull the pepper-spray out of my purse. I just about drop the stupid thing. My hands are shaking with shock and sweaty. No one ever gets the drop on me. I’ve got multiple obscure MMA titles to prove it. Everyone always laughs when they find that out about me because I look like a nondescript vanilla bean. Nothing really stands out about me. I’m tall and skinny and basically brown. I’ve got brown eyes, brown hair and olive toned skin. When I stand next to my sister, people are always asking if I’m adopted because my skin tone isn’t the nice peaches and cream tone like Heather. I look like I could be working in the wine vineyards in Italy like my ancestors.

  I take a defensive stand, aiming the pepper spray at the guy’s eyes.

  “I advise you to stand down,” he says with icy calmness that sends a chill up my spine.

  Well hell. This isn’t how the script is supposed to go. He’s supposed to be cowering in the corner, crying for his mommy.

  “Suppose I don’t?” I ask, displaying an insane amount of bravado. My sensei would have me scrubbing down mats for a month if he could watch this bizarre little exchange.

  “Look, Lady. Please don’t ask me to answer that because you really don’t want to hear my honest answer anymore than I want to tell you. It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning and it’s already been a hellacious day. I’ve had one horse go down with an infected hoof and the other with colic. With all due respect, I don’t think you really want me to touch you. Trust me, if I had to touch you right now, you would be offended in every sense of the word.”

  “Oh, so you’re the stable hand?” I ask dismissively as I look around for my sister. I take a good long look at him. He’s very handsome in a ‘rugged-surviving-the-wilderness-oops did-I misplace-my-razor?’ kind of way. I generally prefer my guys a bit ‘neater’. Still, my eyes are drawn to his impeccably defined shoulders and forearms.

  He just smiles mysteriously and shrugs. “Sometimes.” He’s watching me openly ogle him. Yet, unlike most guys, he doesn’t flex or preen. For some reason his quiet confidence ticks me off.

  I narrow my eyes suspiciously as I demand, “Wait… does my sister even know you’re here?”

  This time, he doesn’t even bother to hide his smirk as he answers, “I imagine so, since I manage to cook breakfast for her three or four times a week.”

  “You’re kidding me! Heather’s always been on the flighty side, but I never figured her for a cheater.”

  “Lady, you seem to have a universally lousy opinion of everybody. If that’s the way you treat somebody you love, I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies. It just so happens your sister is the adorable wife of my commanding officer. I am his tenant at his request because I got sprung early. Do you have issues with me stepping up to take care of Heather while he’s gone? If so, that’s too damn bad. You can take your faulty assumptions and go climb back on a tin whirly bird and go back home for all I care. It’s no skin off my nose.”

  “Pardon me if I don’t believe your macho asshole-ishness. My sister hasn’t said one word about you. It’s not like Heather to miss an opportunity to wax poetically about a cute guy.” I gasp and cover my mouth with my hands as I realize what I’ve just clumsily admitted out loud.

  The stranger just wipes his hands on the back of his jeans and gives me an indulgent look of pity. “Well, considering your sister is one of the happiest newlyweds I’ve ever seen— especially given the fact she never sees her husband— I doubt she much cares about my level of handsomeness. Quite frankly, if she knew she was going to face these accusations by innuendo from you; that in itself, may explain why she hasn’t been forthcoming.”

  “Ooo look at all those big words coming from somebody who shovels horse crap for a living,” I reply sardonically, rolling my eyes.

  Suddenly, I hear a strangled gasp of surprise from behind me. “Madison Paige LaBianca! Did you leave your manners in the baggage carousel or something? Why on God’s green earth would you talk to Trevor that way?”

  “I don’t know the man from Adam!” I argue defensively.

  “Exactly! You have absolutely no reason to treat him like pond scum. You’ve been hanging around Mom and Dad too long. Obviously, I need to reintegrate you into polite society,” Heather responds as she shakes her head in disbelief.

  “You can’t be too careful these days. He might’ve been here to hurt you,” I sputter, not quite willing to give up the point.

  “For the record, I was doing the functional equivalent of cleaning fungus out of Velvet’s toenails when you came bursting in here like there was a shoe sale at Neiman Marcus. How many evil guys with nefarious intentions do you know would take the time to give a horse a pedicure?”

  Crap. The man makes a good point. “It’s hard to know what to think. You’re out here mucking out barns like a high school dropout but you speak like a college professor. Talk about your mixed messages. I don’t even know your name.”

  “All you had to do was ask. I’m Lieutenant Trevor Black, It’s been an interesting experience to meet you to say the very least,” he turns to Heather and comments, “I’m still not used to calling myself Lieutenant. Has Colton gotten used to his new rank?”

  Heather smiles at Trevor as she responds, “It’s still so odd for me to hear him called Colton. I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about his rank very much. So, I’m not sure how it’s affecting him. I just got off the phone with him. He so
unded weird and secretive again like he always does before something big is going to go down. This cloak and dagger stuff is killing me. I don’t suppose you’re in the loop on this one?”

  A pained expression crosses Trevor’s face. “No, they won’t let me talk mission stuff with anyone from the unit since I appealed the decision regarding the separation. But, I would take it as a really good sign that he has the time to call you. It shows they’re not in bug-out mode, ma’am.”

  “That’s kind of the way I read it too. He sounded excited, but not in a doomsday way. You know how he gets. He wasn’t asking me to double check that the life insurance premiums are paid this time. So, maybe it’s good news this round,” Heather replies with a slightly watery grin.

  Trevor gently smiles at her. “I hope so, ma’am. I really do.”

  When I see the compassionate expression on Trevor’s face, I’m even more embarrassed by my snap judgments earlier. When exactly did I turn into such a bitch?

  “Trevor, I’m sorry for the belated introduction, but this lovely creature is my pesky little sister Madison LaBianca. You’ll have to excuse her. She’s from the East Coast. They do things at a different pace there. It’s going to take her a while to get acclimated to farm life in Oregon.”

  I smirk at the accuracy of Heather’s explanation. There is more truth to it than she could ever know. There are about a million and one reasons I can’t be in Boston right now and I can’t tell my sister about any of them. Fortunately, her upcoming wedding gives me the perfect excuse to hide in the middle of nowhere all the way across the country.

  I stick my hand out for Trevor to shake. “It’s nice to meet you Trevor. Look, I’m sorry for being such a putz. I’m not usually such a jerk. Can we chalk it up to jet lag or something?”

  Trevor nods at me but does not take my hand as he replies. “I don’t think you want to touch these hands. They’ve been in some pretty nasty places today and I haven’t had a chance to properly wash up.”