by Bonnie Vanak
“May we come inside?” her manager asked.
As Lacey stepped aside, the women and Collette filed into the kitchen. All the women carried in dishes, from big bowls of rice and beans to coconut cream pie. Jarrett’s stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d forgotten to eat lunch.
As they set the items down, Collette placed the casserole on the table and removed the oven mitts.
Her expression was filled with sympathy. “I am so sorry, Lacey, for what happened today with Fleur. I told the women you could use a friend, and dinner, and everyone pitched in at the kitchen to make you something.”
There was enough food to feed all of his SEAL team. Lacey hugged her.
“It is the least we can do,” Collette added. She gestured to Marie, the nervous woman who had been flustered when Jarrett approached. “Marie even made her famous rice and beans dish.”
“Miss Lacey, if not for you, I would be on the street right now,” said Marie.
Lacey blinked hard as Marie took her hands. Jarrett stared down at the woman’s hands, weathered from hard work, dark as coffee, the fingers long and elegant.
“You saved me, Miss Lacey. You saved me from the worst person in the world—myself. Because you taught me that I’m worth something and I shouldn’t return to my man because all he had to give me was more pain,” Marie told her.
Each woman came up and kissed her on both cheeks and then nodded at Jarrett. Collette hugged her again before she left. At the door the woman turned with an apologetic look for Jarrett.
“I’m sorry I was curt with you, Mr. Jarrett. It’s been very tense at the factory. With the unrest on the streets, and with what has happened here, the women are scared they will lose their jobs and their homes. They have no place else to go, and having a stranger around, especially a man, asking questions and being around their workplace, is intimidating.”
“I understand.” But he didn’t offer any friendly overtures or welcoming gestures. Jarrett didn’t trust easily. Especially after what happened today.
He nodded goodbye to the women. As Lacey closed the door and leaned against it, he saw the fatigue rimming her pretty blue eyes mix with something stronger.
Steely determination.
She wasn’t going to leave, he realized.
“Lace, you should start to pack for Aimee’s place,” he told her.
“No.” She looked around the room. “This is my home now, and my charity, and these women are under my care. Maybe they had a choice before things started falling apart with the government, but they don’t now. Two other charities who could have helped them, would have given them money and a place to live, have pulled out.”
Stretching out her hands, she stared at them. “I look at women like Marie who need Marlee’s Mangoes. What will happen if I leave here and the place closes down?”
Jarrett said nothing, only continued to gaze at her.
“I can’t abandon them with the country disintegrating like this. Collette will leave and the place will fall apart. These women believe in me, and they trust me. Who will take care of them if I leave? If I leave...”
Her voice broke. “I’ll be a failure, just like before.”
He gentled his voice. “There’s a difference between failing and knowing when to resort to plan B, Lace. You can return later.”
“By then it will be too late. But I can’t send my little girl away.”
“You must.” Jarrett winced as he leaned forward to cup her cheek, needing to touch her, knowing this was going to crush her. “Because someone doesn’t want to scare you out of here anymore, Lace. Someone wants to dispose of Fleur and they believe she is the only reason you’re still here and not returning to the States.”
Lacey shook her head. “I need to check on Fleur. She was asleep a little while ago, but I’m sure she’s awake now.”
He locked the front door, gave Lacey a few minutes then went into her daughter’s bedroom. Fleur sat on her bed, dressed in clean pajamas. Staring at the wall, she rocked back and forth, her arms around her stomach as Lacey sat beside her.
Her mouth wobbled as he joined her on Fleur’s narrow bed. “She won’t talk. She won’t stop doing this, Jarrett. And I don’t know how to help her.”
Fleur hadn’t been physically wounded, but the violence had shattered her emotionally. Jarrett’s throat tightened. He rested a hand on her thin shoulder. “Hey, daisycakes,” he said, using her mother’s nickname, “can you look at me a minute?”
Saying nothing, she lifted her head. Jarrett gritted his teeth. In her large, dark eyes was the same blankness, devoid of all emotion, he’d witnessed in other children while overseas. Victims of violence who had seen far too much in their young years, they had retreated far inside themselves for protection.
And so had Fleur.
It would take a lot to pull her out of her safe space. And the first step was making her feel secure. Not here. Fleur squeezed her eyes shut, as if shutting away the world.
He spoke in a soothing, low tone in French. “Fleur, I’m sorry about the bad men who tried to hurt you today. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep this from happening again. But it may mean you have to leave your mom so you can be safe.”
No response.
“Fleur, sweetheart, I don’t want to send you away,” Lacey said softly. “You’re my special angel, my daisycakes. It’s you and me, kiddo, against the world.”
No response, just the shut eyes and the rocking.
Lacey put her arms around her daughter, but Fleur did not respond. Then Lacey slowly got up, tucked her into bed and pulled up the covers. Fleur stared at the ceiling.
She went out of the room as Jarrett followed. Her gaze was dull with pain as she closed the door.
“Call Ace. Find out how soon he can get here to take Fleur.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t do anything for my little girl anymore. I can’t protect her, Jarrett.”
He pulled her into his arms. For a minute she remained there as he stroked her hair, trying to comfort her. But then she jerked away and her expression became as wounded and blank as her daughter’s.
As she fled toward her room, Jarrett felt the old guilt and grief surface. He’d left her after they’d lost their baby, that tiny little life that had been growing inside her. He’d failed to be there when she needed him most.
And now he’d failed her again and she was losing her daughter because he couldn’t keep Fleur safe.
CHAPTER 14
Lacey had thought her heart would break the day she lost her baby years ago. She remembered it so well, the panic clogging her throat as she kept bleeding out, the desperate prayers as the ambulance rushed her to the hospital...
And the pain lacing her heart far worse than the physical pain.
She thought nothing could ever equal the emotional trauma of her miscarriage and subsequent divorce.
How wrong she was.
When Ace and his sister pulled into the compound in a sleek black Montero two hours later, her heart squeezed tight. With every ounce of her strength, she summoned an encouraging smile for Fleur as she walked her outside. Fleur clutched her stuffed rabbit as if it was a life preserver.
A cool breeze rustled through the coconut palms and the bright pink bougainvillea. The jasmine bush she’d planted last year was blooming, sending a delicate fragrance floating on the wind. It was a lovely day, but it should be raining.
Because she was abandoning her little girl, whom she’d promised to never leave.
Lacey hugged Aimee and shook Ace’s hand. Ace took Fleur’s suitcase from Jarrett and put it in the trunk. The two men stood quietly talking as Lacey struggled to rein in her composure. Fleur must not see how shattered she was, for this was difficult enough for both of them.
Squatting down, she looked at her daughter, the fear swimming amid the blankness in her eyes, the tension in her thin body. So thin, despite the protein she’d fed Fleur over the past year. Lacey gently gripped her arms.
“Just for a lit
tle while, sweetheart. You’re going away with Mr. Ace and Miss Aimee so you can be safe. No more bad men on motorcycles shooting. There’s the pool you can play in, and lots of toys...”
Fleur looked down, refusing to meet her gaze. “But you won’t be there.”
Her voice cracked. “I know. I have to stay here and help the women because they don’t have anyone else to help them. Things are getting bad and we don’t know what will happen. And I need you to be in a place where you’ll be safe. Be good and do everything Mr. Ace and Miss Aimee tell you. And play nice with Holly and Heather, okay?”
Fleur nodded but would not look at her.
Aimee squatted down with her. “Hey, Fleur, you’re going to have a real good time with us. Holly and Heather are looking forward to playing with you. And they’re very eager to see Mr. Bunny and hear how well you can read in French.”
Lacey hugged Fleur fiercely, but she remained stiff. Sweat trickled down Lacey’s spine as her daughter pulled away. Pulled away from her, as if she didn’t want Lacey in her life anymore because she knew, even at five years old, that adults could hurt her.
Jarrett went to Fleur and bent down to her eye level. “If you get scared in the night, or you need to talk to someone other than Mr. Bunny, tell Miss Aimee and she’ll call me and your mom. At any time.”
Fleur gave a little nod and then climbed into the backseat. Lacey could not move, could not breathe. She felt as if someone had compressed all the air out of her lungs. If she moved, she would start sobbing and never stop. Hold it together, just a little longer.
Ace glanced at her then nodded at Jarrett. “I’ll call you later.”
And then he and Aimee were in the big Montero, pulling away, Fleur staring out the window, her palms flat against the glass.
Soon as the SUV cleared the gate, Lacey staggered over to the front stoop, sat and buried her face into her hands.
Jarrett sat next to her, holding her tight against his chest as she sobbed. She cried for everything that had been building inside her for the past few weeks, for her little girl’s stricken pain, for the women who had no other options but to remain at Marlee’s Mangoes and for her own shattered marriage with Jarrett.
For Fleur’s mom, who had never wanted to leave her daughter, either, but who lost her life at the hands of a brutal killer.
Saying nothing, he held her, stroking her hair, letting her cry it out. Finally, she raised her head and gave him a lopsided smile.
“Your shirt’s all wet and your bandage probably is, too.”
“Screw the bandage.” He framed her face with large, gentle hands. “You’re going to get through this, Lace. She’s safe with them and I’m here with you. I’m not leaving, understand? I’m sticking around.”
They went inside as she found a tissue to blow her nose and wipe her tears. Jarrett found two bottles of water and then muttered, “Screw it.”
He went into the dining room and the liquor cabinet and then returned to the kitchen with her bottle of dark rum. After pouring two shots, he handed her a glass.
She gulped it down, relishing the slow burn. Drinking wouldn’t numb her pain, but it helped her to fight off the deep chill settling into her bones.
Jarrett tossed back his shot and looked at the kitchen. “Where’s Rose?”
“I gave her the night off. I didn’t want her around for Fleur’s departure and with the coup d’état, she’s worried about her family. I had planned to cook before Collette and the others brought all that food.”
Arching a dark brow, he considered. “Damn, had I known that I would have lined up the fire extinguishers and bought another bottle of rum to wash down the taste of your cooking.”
Lacey hiccupped. “I’m not that bad.”
“True. I’ve had worse. Bugs and worms in the jungle on an op. Actually, the mealworms were much tastier than your cooking.”
She smiled, for this was a familiar tease and she recognized what he was trying to do, distract her from the pain of Fleur’s departure. “If you don’t want to eat all the food the women brought over, you can cook, Lt. Adler.”
“Trying to make me earn my room and board, woman?” He winked as she pulled Collette’s chicken casserole from the refrigerator.
Soon they had dinner on the table, the casserole heated and sitting on a metal trivet. Jarrett had found a bottle of fine French wine and poured two glasses for them both. Fierce and protective, Jarrett had a tough outer shell and yet within that steely core lay a vulnerability she had only glimpsed in their marriage.
Maybe if he had shown her that side of himself when they were still married, she would have stuck it out. But Lacey knew she was different now from the naive girl who had sought out a divorce. The world wasn’t as black-and-white as she’d envisioned, and people were much more complex.
Like Jarrett. One had to coax out the layers and peel them back, like an onion, to find the true treasure within. And back then she had been too wounded to even try.
Jarrett glanced at her plate and her untouched food. “Eat, Lacey. You need your strength.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re still upset about Fleur.”
“I wasn’t thinking about her,” she admitted. “I was thinking about us. What we had when we were married. And how you had it all, and I didn’t.”
His gaze shuttered. “What do you mean?”
The rum had made her melancholy. “What we almost had. A family. A child to give me purpose. Your life had purpose. You were Navy, a SEAL, fighting for your country, to keep us all safe. You were so damn dedicated. And I had no purpose.”
The guarded look dropped as he folded his muscled arms across his chest. “Why didn’t you ever talk to me, Lace? Tell me how you felt.”
“I never said anything because I knew the nature of your work, Jarrett, and how you had to focus on the job. I never wanted you to deploy and worry about me. I never complained, never wanted to let you know because you had enough on your shoulders. But I had nothing to occupy my time.”
“The job with your dad. What about that? Wasn’t that occupying your time?”
“It was online. I seldom interacted with anyone. And the other SEAL wives, they had children and activities that kept them busy.” Her mouth turned down. Maybe it was time he learned the truth she’d hidden.
“They didn’t include me in their circles, anyway. Oh, they were friendly enough and supportive, but when it came to social activities, stuff like lunch with the ‘girls,’ they didn’t include me. Maybe because they were wary of the big senator’s daughter, the senator who wasn’t one to readily fund the military. My life when you were gone was empty. I wanted a baby to fill it. A baby who looked like you, had your grin and that little dimple in your cheek when you smile. A little person to hold and hug and be a reminder of you...”
Her voice cracked. “In case you came home in a coffin. Every time you left, I was terrified you’d never return.”
Jarrett looked stricken. “You never said anything.”
She sniffed, nearly laughing at the reason why. “My dad was the one who warned me to not be a clinging, whiny Navy wife.”
“Your father? The almighty Senator Stewart, who hated my guts because I stole away his little girl?”
“He didn’t hate you.” Lacey sighed, wishing she could turn back the clock. So many regrets. “He was damn angry that we eloped without saying anything, and he thought I was far too young. But after the deed was done, he told me I had to buck up and be a good Navy wife and you were a warrior fighting for our country, and you needed to have a clear mind and not think about problems at home when you deployed.”
“Damn,” he said softly.
“This is why my NGO is so important. It gives me purpose, a feeling I’m making a real contribution to making the world a better place, just as you are. All I have is Marlee’s Mangoes to give women a new life, so I could give myself a new life.”
“You never seemed like the kind of woman who indulged in self-pity.” He
reached across the table and took her hand, his fingers stroking against her skin. “You were strong and self-sufficient. Like you are now. And you have a kind heart.”
The words loaned her strength she didn’t feel. Lacey picked up her fork and began eating. Maybe she’d made some bad decisions in life, but she’d done so for the right reasons.
When they finished dinner and washed the dishes, Jarrett turned. He bent his head down and his kiss was soft and tender, not the passion-drugged kiss of the other night. It was almost as sweet as the first time he’d ever kissed her, when he’d taken her to the elegant steak house and then kissed her in his truck. Tentative, as if he feared hurting her. Respectful, and yet layered with simmering passion.
Then he took her hand and led her upstairs to his room. His lovemaking chased away all the bad thoughts and nightmarish images, and replaced the pain with sheer pleasure.
CHAPTER 15
At 2300, Jarrett put Operation Sneak ’N’ Peek into action.
Sam and Gene had returned to the compound. The capital was tense, with military vehicles forming roadblocks on the main road. They had made it out only because Sam had greased a few palms with the cash Lacey had given him for the security cameras.
Dressed in black long-sleeved shirts and trousers, dark greasepaint over their faces, he and Sam planned their visit to Paul Lawrence’s house. And if Lawrence happened to be home, well, the man would wake up to a nice little session of Q&A, answers provided courtesy of Jarrett’s Sig Sauer. Gene would remain behind with the now-sleeping Lacey and guard the house.
Spreading out on the dining room table the map of St. Marc that showed the location of Paul Lawrence’s house, he circled the target with a red pen. Several photos Lacey had taken of a cocktail party at Lawrence’s house were also strewn over the table.
“We’ll park a distance away and go through the woods to the perimeter. Lacey told me Lawrence did have cameras around the property that’ll have to be disabled. No dogs. Razor wire fence.”