Shadows and Spice

by Grady, D. R.

  Greg decided not to start something he didn’t know how to finish.

  Janine climbed into the car beside O’Riley, wishing she could take Greg’s wet, unfinished canvas with her now. But the painting needed additional work, since it was little more than an outline of intent now. She had never been so moved by art before. Was the cause of this emotional knot in her stomach the result of the painting or the painter?

  She didn’t know, and didn’t feel like asking. Greg Gilmore had to rediscover life. He had to make certain Michael Lamont stayed buried. Maybe he had to exorcise a few ghosts. Janine knew she did.

  Her family was the most important aspect of her life right now. They helped to heal the scars Kuwait had wrought as well as her time spent in Africa helping to care for an unsettled people.

  There might even still be some tender spots from her childhood. She didn’t know for certain, but she did know that she felt limber and lithe after years of aches and pains. Janine liked that she could function again after what had seemed like a crippling illness.

  The pain and regrets of her past had been soothed and alleviated because the Morrison family loved her. Not that she didn’t horde her precious alone time, because she did, and her family made an effort not to crowd her.

  But what about Greg? Would they do the same for him? She didn’t know. Did he even want them to? Would their love have the same affect on him?

  Greg might not even want or feel like he needed to heal. Maybe he liked himself the way he was. She didn’t have a right to interfere. Besides, he didn’t intend to stay in Hershey longer than it took him to find the answers he needed, and clean up the mess he thought he was responsible for.

  Who knew how long that might take?

  KC’s brother didn’t seem like the type to stick around for long. He had created the drifter persona, and might have gotten caught in his own trap. But the man could paint.

  She loved every brush stroke on that canvas, because each one conveyed the image of someone she loved. She had coveted the artwork as soon as she set eyes on it. Admiral O’Riley had probably wanted the same piece. Janine was sure she’d have to wrestle Greg’s latest work from KC’s desperate grasp.

  She smiled.

  “What’s that smile for?” O’Riley’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  “I was thinking about Greg’s painting.”

  “The one he gave you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about it?” O’Riley sounded genuinely interested, so she answered.

  “I’ll probably have to wrest it from KC.”

  “And my wife.”

  Janine groaned. “I forgot about General Emma.” She thought fast. “Emma’s not allowed to see that painting until it’s on my mantle.”

  “You think that’ll stop her?” O’Riley sent her a knowing look as he turned the corner and slid into her driveway.

  “Probably not. She’s a determined lady. But Greg gave me that painting.”

  “He did. That ought to help your cause.”

  “It’s mine.” Janine couldn’t tell exactly why she was so adamant, but she wasn’t giving it up even for General Emma, beloved aunt that she was.

  “I liked it, too. And I didn’t even recognize all the people on it.”

  “I did.”

  “Good. So, what did you think of our conversation?”

  Janine frowned. “Arms dealers after him makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” O’Riley sighed. She wanted to echo the sentiment. There were so many unknowns. But that was typical.

  “What’s your next step?”

  “I’m going to assign someone the task to gather information for us. I want everything we can find on this group.”

  “That’s the thing, there isn’t much because they’re such a low key, small operation.”

  “They’ve left a trail though. We’ll find them.” She appreciated the confidence in his voice.

  “I know you have some great information hounds on your team. That should help.” She doubted Greg would let this sit, either. Between Greg and O’Riley, they’d figure out what they needed. And she had a few contacts of her own.

  “Yes. And a few of them will likely know exactly where to look.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you managed to bury Lamont so effectively.” He sounded admiring.

  That relaxed her a bit. She didn’t like what she’d done, but didn’t have another choice at the time. “It’s imperative Lamont remain dead.”

  “Yes. If any of his enemies discover he’s still alive...” O’Riley shook his head.

  Janine shuddered. She didn’t want to think about the consequences. “He knows stuff that will get him killed – painfully.” She hated saying it, but had to confirm.

  The knowledge contained within Greg Gilmore’s head would prove very desirable by certain unsavory individuals. For that matter, his very head would prove very satisfactory to some.

  “Between you and him, Janine, you could destroy an entire nation.”

  Chapter 9

  “You already gave this painting away? To who?” KC’s voice rose an octave and Greg suppressed a grin. If she saw his amusement, he’d get punched. And he knew her. She was a former military woman and a mom. The woman had muscles.

  “To Janine.” He was sure he had already told her this three times. But maybe not.

  “Oh, Janine.” The wind died in her sails and the flap settled.

  “Yes. She even has a place for it.”

  KC bit her lip and stared at his still drying, but finished painting. “Well, yes, it would look spectacular over her mantle. She hasn’t been quick to fill that space because she said it had to be right.”

  “Which is this painting, apparently.” He couldn’t resist pointing the fact out to her. And got punched for his efforts, which hurt, as he suspected. “Ow!”

  “You deserved that. I want a painting like this one.” His sister stared him down and Greg considered her request.

  “Maybe.”

  She rounded on him. “What do you mean maybe? That was a demand.” KC crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “You’re so demanding.” He avoided her next thump. “KC, I don’t know if I can paint another picture like this one. It was a onetime shot.” It had taken a while, but Greg realized he enjoyed their playful interactions. Maybe he had started to take life too seriously. He suppressed a snort. Like he could have done anything else.

  KC stared at him suspiciously, but he meant what he said. He had needed the original gathering as incentive to lay the colors on the canvas so the images formed as he saw them. Reproducing this particular painting would be next to impossible.

  Something must have convinced her because he thought some of her belligerence subsided, then Macy crawled over to a rickety table and both of them leaped after her.

  “Whew, that was close.” KC managed to snag her daughter while he caught the end table before it crashed down on his niece’s head.

  KC passed the little girl over while she hurried to answer a bellow from Ryan. A little boy he loved but couldn’t get too close to. It hurt too much. He should be Ryan’s father. If circumstances had been different... the pain threatened to overwhelm him, so he cut it off.

  Instead Greg accepted KC’s daughter and gazed back at the child who solemnly watched him. A lump formed in his throat. She looked so much like KC. His heart melted as he traded stares with her.

  This little girl was a member of his family. A miniature rendition of her mother, a woman he had loved all his life. She didn’t seem to recognize the demons that howled inside him. Nor seem daunted by the dark side of him. Instead she tucked her thumb into her mouth and stared at him through her mother’s bright blue eyes.

  Her mother probably wouldn’t be scared by the demons who tormented him, either. KC loved him. He had no doubts about that. From what he could gather from her smallest offspring, this little tyke didn’t mind following her mother’s example.

  The easy acceptance
in Macy’s eyes helped to ease some of his tension. It was like she recognized him. That made sense, because he was family, but he didn’t always feel that way.

  He couldn’t help but smile at his niece, and she returned a cute little gurgle to him. Greg laughed, and then blinked in bemusement. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed. It sounded nice, if unfamiliar, and felt good.

  Macy played with a button on his shirt. With a concentration he admired, she worked the button until she became familiar with it. A sunbeam caught the gold in her hair and sent a shaft of light into his eyes. The effect was dazzling.

  Another painting took shape in his mind. He watched the sun play with strands of Macy’s curls and more of the picture formed. KC bustled back into the room and he saw her pause.

  He handed Macy over and searched for a fresh canvas. Greg had always appreciated how KC instinctively knew when he had a painting on his mind and she never interrupted. Instead, she took her daughter and watched him.

  Squeezing paint onto his palette, he daubed the first color onto the canvas and heard KC suck in her breath. “I want this painting.” Her voice brooked no argument.

  “It features your daughter, it should be yours,” he said through the haze that clung on his horizon, and wouldn’t allow him to escape the images moving too fast through his brain.

  “Good,” KC muttered as he kept laying color onto the white canvas surface. A little girl had suddenly become a very important person in his life. A little girl whose mommy he loved, whose brother he loved. A child who needed his protection. The desolate winds howled at him from the shadows, from a twisted, wicked place and he shuddered. What if he couldn’t give that protection? A person could fight that dank world only so long. Then their strength gave out.

  Not only did he have this small person to defend, but another small person he’d helped create and loved beyond belief also depended on him. And KC. He swallowed. If anyone came near KC he would tear them apart, limb by limb, with no mercy.

  An image of fierce amber eyes soared into his mind. The woman who owned the eyes followed soon after and Greg knew he wouldn’t have to preserve his family alone. She would stand shoulder to shoulder with him, and inflict the same damage, with the same degree of intensity and warrior qualities.

  That was probably what intrigued him so much about Janine. She was quiet and serene, but underneath that calm exterior a warrior’s heart beat. You could beat her, but you would never defeat her. The spirit with which she viewed life was one he’d like to adopt for Greg Gilmore.

  But he’d lived as Michael Lamont for so many years, he was afraid he didn’t know Greg Gilmore any more. That somewhere along the destructive lines he lived, he lost the man he had once been. The man he wanted to become when the dreams of youth still visited him.

  Could he rebuild his life as Greg Gilmore, or like a shadow, would the underworld entice him too much and he’d slip back into the world he knew? Would he forsake the world he wanted to live in for familiarity? Many an operative hadn’t been able to adjust, and had lost all.

  But he had KC and her family. He had found something here he dearly wanted to become familiar with. Provided he could breathe. Comfortably. Family had never been a priority in his life. Maybe he was too old to change.

  Did he still have the capacity to love? The evil world where he lived stole precious parts of a person. Love, hope, tenderness, and laughter tended to be the first pieces to go. But he loved KC. He loved Ryan, and now Miss Macy had ensnared a part of his heart, too. He even liked, respected, and admired KC’s husband, Max. The right question might be whether that love was strong enough for him to continue the fight?

  Greg brushed more color onto the canvas and saw the amber eyes had made their way to his painting. They watched over Macy, KC, and Ryan and he reconsidered giving this canvas away.

  This is how he viewed Janine. Probably how KC viewed Janine, too. A silent protector who would stop at nothing to keep her family safe. The thought cheered him, because he was tumbled from the same mold. It also comforted him. His own private hell, complete with demons, didn’t howl as lonely as it had yesterday.

  Chapter 10

  Janine hefted Ben’s son, and secured his wriggling wetness against her shirt. Bath water trailed off his slick skin as he squirmed to be let down. This would do him no good since he could barely crawl. But he was definitely his father’s son.

  “Kale, you can’t go anywhere, so why don’t you at least let me dry you?” The little guy ignored her, except for a quick squawk.

  “You can’t reason with him. He wants to be about his business,” Treeny, Ben’s wife assured her as she wrestled with Kale’s twin sister, Kyla.

  “There’s no doubt who fathered this child,” Janine remarked and managed to mostly dry her squirmy nephew.

  “I tell Ben that all the time.”

  Janine laughed with Treeny and copied her motions as they diapered the twins.

  “I’m sure he tells you this is your fault.”

  “He tries, but your mom is quick to assure him that she sees lots more him in these two than me.” Treeny shook out two sets of jammies and handed one set to her.

  “They have your eyes and lips.”

  “That’s what my mom and Rachel say. Both kids have been changing so fast though, it alarms us.”

  “Ah, that would explain the stack of pictures I almost tipped over on the front table.”

  Treeny scoffed. “You, the most elegant, graceful person I know, did not almost tip anything over.”

  “I did.” Janine enjoyed the compliment as she slanted a glance at her sister-in-law. “And General Emma has more years of grace and elegance than me.”

  “That’s who you remind me of. Of course! You could pass as General Emma’s daughter, you know.” Treeny paused in her efforts to insert her daughter into the pajama bottoms.

  “I have noticed some of my own mannerisms in her.” Janine remembered when she first noticed they buttered bread exactly the same way. She had always buttered that way, too. It wasn’t a trait she picked up since the Morrison family had tugged her into their ranks.

  “You also stand like her. You and Ben both move similarly, but the closest female in the family to you is Emma.” Treeny nodded as though she had confirmed something as she kissed Kyla. “How’s your family search going by the way?”

  Janine bit her lip as she tugged Kale’s pajama bottoms up over his diaper. Did she tell of the odd sites she read from time to time? Maybe she should mention them to Lainy, at least to see if Lainy was familiar with them. Because Janine had visited a few sites that left her feeling uneasy. The only reason she was interested in John Morris was because he might share genes with her, except her search had brought up things other than information on her maybe-relative. But the niggling uneasiness at her nape kept her from mentioning anything to Treeny. If she mentioned her reservations to anyone, it’d better be to a computer expert.

  She prevaricated. “Slowly. Probably better than Nick’s search for a nanny.”

  Treeny laughed. “Nick’s never going to find the perfect nanny for those kids. I don’t know why he doesn’t give in gracefully.”

  “He’s stubborn I guess.”

  “Right. Back to General Emma and your similarities.”

  “I’m personally thankful for General Emma. It’s nice to know where my idiosyncrasies stem from. Maybe Nick should ask General Emma for help.”

  “Janine, you don’t have idiosyncrasies.” Treeny sounded like she meant that statement. Her sister-in-law’s confidence warmed her. She could argue that point, but decided to stay on course.

  “We all have them. And after watching General Emma in action, I’d say there’s little doubt I’m a Morrison.”

  Treeny shook her head as she tugged Kyla’s hand through a sleeve. “I’d say you’re all Morrison.” She made it sound like a compliment.

  Janine grinned as she followed suit with Kale’s arm. He continued to protest her dressing him, but she
had helped so often, she could probably do this in her sleep.

  “When do you expect Ben home? Or do you?”

  “When I see him.”

  Janine nodded. Treeny and Ben had dealt with a few problems in their courtship, not the least being Ben’s lack of regular hours. She knew Treeny was still sometimes bothered by the fact that she didn’t know when he’d leave or return. But the pair loved each other to distraction and they worked through their problems.

  A very decent way to live. They didn’t borrow trouble, but worked through difficult situations as they happened. A smart woman could learn from their example. Not that she had a man to pair herself with.

  Greg Gilmore’s lopsided grin twisted in her mind and she paused in tugging Kale’s shirt down. Where had that come from? She was a former member of his team. Not a charter member of his fan club.

  She was sure there would be a long line if he did have a fan club, though. His sun-kissed hair and too knowing blue eyes enticed her as no other man ever had. Why had she fallen for KC’s brother? The man had pain in his past, just as she did. She knew of his pain because she could read it in his eyes.

  His former career dictated that he would have to deal with ghosts for the rest of his life. But the residual she saw in his eyes scared her. Mostly because he might not allow those emotions to be healed and soothed. If not, did that leave them with a future? Because she still couldn’t be certain if he would fit in with her family.

  He could if he wanted to, but he enjoyed his solitude. What if Greg had no desire to mingle with a plentiful family? Even a family that had adopted his sister and her kids.

  And what about Ryan?

  Did Greg care about Ryan? Did it bother him that he had given up the little boy before he was a week old? What had happened to Ryan’s birth mother? Did Greg think about her? Did he still love her?