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TWICE UPON A TIME
Jennifer Wagner
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Contents:
Prologue
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Epilogue
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Prologue
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"'The Lord is my shepherd…'"
The priest's rich, monotone voice carried to the small crowd through the cacophony of rain pounding against the canvas tent.
An American flag embraced the shiny black coffin. Its red, white and blue colors stood out starkly among the mourners, giving it a clashingly festive look.
"'I shall not want…'"
Rico lay in that box. That long, cold box.
A tremor shook Anna, an effort to keep from throwing open the casket and dragging his lifeless body away to a warm, safe place. Rico shouldn't be dead.
Not big, strong, invincible Rico.
"'Even though I walk through the dark valley…'"
Grief began to burn off the numbness in her body, burn off her last desperate hope. Hope of the media's error, hope that Rico hadn't been shot to death in some godforsaken country. A country the government wouldn't name. Not even now.
"'I fear no evil for you are at my side…'"
"He died for his country." Anna heard his mother, Lina, sob. "At least we can console ourselves with that."
Console ourselves? Anna raged silently. Console ourselves with the knowledge that Rico died fighting a silent war no one could win. Fighting a never-ending drug war controlled by power and greed. A war whose "generals" were only replaced by other, more greedy animals. She should feel comforted by this?
"'Only goodness and kindness shall follow me…'"
Anna felt a wild scream move through her chest, into her throat. She pressed her lips together, shuddering in an attempt to keep her grief caged. Her chest heaved with her erratic breaths, her body fighting to keep up with the violent emotions clawing her heart.
"'All the days of my life…'"
Her last memory of him flashed in her mind, still painfully vivid after three years. Face taut with anger, golden eyes flaming with rage, his soft voice whipped across her sensitive feelings.
"You love me?" he'd whispered. "How well did you love the others, Bella? How well did I teach you?" he'd drawled maliciously.
She never saw him alive again.
"'And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord…'"
Anna's blood raced through her icy veins, the effort to still the quaking, almost snapping bones.
He'd died hating her, never knowing the truth. Maybe she should have tried once more to reach him and convince him of her innocence, convince him there'd been no one but him. But she'd been too full of hurt, too full of righteous virtue and naive pride.
Now it was too late.
"'For years to come.'"
The storm unleashed its full fury, lifting the tent that covered them, sending it tumbling across the cemetery until it snagged itself on one of the hundreds of white tombstones. The priest tripped over his religious prayers, racing the storm. From the trumpet came the mourning cry of "Taps." Men in uniform folded the flag in brisk, emotionless movements, creating a snug, perfect triangle before handing it to Rico's sobbing mother. Anna stared at the heartbroken woman, thinking of all the things Lina hadn't known until today. All of the things that could have changed her life.
The small crowd dispersed, running through giant mud puddles to their cars, leaving Anna and Lina standing rigidly by the casket. Anna hesitantly laid her hand on the cold, smooth surface. Her strength nearly gone, she barely kept from lying across the top. Water ran in rivers down her face, mingling with the endless tears. She didn't want to leave him here alone, but she couldn't watch them lower him into the ground.
"I'll always love you, Rico Carella," Anna forced out of her tear-clogged throat. "I hope you know that."
Her shaking hand caressed the cold, slick casket one final time.
Finally she wrenched away and turned to Lina. Each step away from Rico became body blows that echoed the emptiness of her soul.
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Frigid, sinister eyes watched Anna and the older woman stumble from the casket and climb into a car. An evil slash of teeth revealed victory and a promise.
A promise that it wasn't over.
It had only just begun.
* * *
Chapter 1
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Anna arched and rolled her neck in an unsuccessful attempt to loosen tight muscles. With a sigh she checked her watch, amazed at how quickly the hours passed.
A tired groan escaped, but she grinned at the mountain of finished boards. High-pitched giggles floated up the stairs to her workroom, making her smile. She silently thanked Lina for the umpteenth time since Rico's funeral almost two years before. Without her diligent care of the kids, her work would never be completed on time. The twins were at an age when naps were rare and play was constant.
Heading downstairs, she stopped at the foyer mirror and gathered her thick, untamable hair into a ponytail. Tilting her head, she studied the pink tinges on her cheekbones and nose, a result of playing at the park the day before. With a wry grimace, she figured she looked like a cheerleader instead of a twenty-seven-year-old mother of two.
"Mom!" yelled a miniature tornado. Rebecca rounded the corner, her acute hearing picking up sounds of Anna.
"Hi, honey. What did you do this afternoon?" Hefting her daughter on a hip, she made her way to the bright kitchen, listening to Rebecca recounting her day.
Lina stood at the island in the center of the sunny lakefront room. She stopped cutting vegetables to admire her grandson's drawing of the sailboats skating on the sky-blue water.
"Hello, you two," Anna said.
Lina looked up, smiling widely. Anna studied her, noting the map of lines and wrinkles aging her far beyond her fifty-two years.
Coming from Puerto Rico with Rico's father at nineteen, Lina had been pregnant when he'd died months later. She'd then struggled to raise her twin sons while learning a new language and way of life. Anna always remembered her as smiling yet quiet, with a sadness she couldn't completely hide.
Forgiveness had been easy for Anna to give after seeing Lina's complete devastation at the funeral. Inviting her to move to Idaho with her and the children had been an impulse, but one she'd never regretted. Lina's dark eyes, once shadowed with the torment of losing so much, now glowed with peace, contentment and love.
They were a family.
"What is that glorious smell?" she asked with a cheeky grin, sneaking a carrot off the butcher block and popping it in her mouth.
"What does it smell yike?" her son drawled, rolling his hazel eyes at his mother.
Anna's face froze for an instant as her son imitated the father he'd never known. Her daughter wiggled down her leg as a warm hand covered hers on the butcher block.
"Every day he grows more like Rico," Lina murmured. "It's a painful blessing."
Anna nodded. "I know."
Taking a deep breath, she turned to the refrigerator and found the door handle amidst her children's artwork and alphabet magnets. Bantering with them, she poured their drinks into cups, snapped on lids and carried them to the table.
Dinner was a boisterous affair, the children each vying for adult attention. Vivacious, happy children, Anna thanked God every day for them and the joy they brought her. Now, with Lina, another adult shared in the crazy, unpredictable lives of twins. It was enough, but sometimes she felt pangs, wanting to share the twins' escapades with their—
Shaking her head, she banished thoughts of Rico. Deep down she still found it impossible to believe he was dead. The feeling
that she'd know, she'd feel the severing of the bond between them tormented her. She'd gone to his funeral to convince her mind, at least, that he was gone, but her heart refused to listen. Maybe it never would.
No, she reminded herself, she felt the bond because she hadn't seen him for years. Pain twisted sharply through the holes in her heart. At the end he'd died hating her, thinking she'd betrayed him in the worst way possible.
Any connection she felt was only in her mind.
"Mom! Someone's here!" yelled Rebecca. It seemed as if the twins were determined not to learn volume control. Everything was yelled, screamed or screeched.
"Rebecca, lower your voice. I'm right here."
A big sigh blew inky black curls off her child's forehead.
"I said," she drew out slowly, as if her mother was deaf and needed to lip-read. "Someone's here."
Anna glanced at Lina, both successful now at hiding grins to keep from encouraging the twins in their cute, although borderline fresh, behavior. Not even questioning the hearing of her four-and-a-half-year-old, Anna pushed back her chair and walked to the kitchen door. Looking past her driveway to the bed and breakfast across the street, she was taken aback to see a dark-blue Jeep Cherokee pull into the driveway.
"Lina, did Jim and Emily get back from their daughter's?" Permed salt-and-pepper curls quivered with a negative shake. "No, they won't be home for another month. Why?"
"Someone just pulled into their driveway."
Lina got up to take a look. This prompted the twins to scamper down from their chairs, not wanting to miss a thing.
The four of them stood there, crowded behind the screen door watching as a large man stepped slowly out of the truck. Standing very still, he looked around the front yard before turning in a circle. The sun bounced off his aviator sunglasses, and a shiver trickled down Anna's spine. Even though the shadow of the porch and doorway hid them, she had the eerie feeling his eyes connected with hers.
"That must be Jim's nephew. Emily said he might take care of their house, but she wasn't sure last time I talked with her." Lina frowned. "I think his name is 'Cage.' Or some other silly name."
Cage?
"Mom," her son whispered behind a small hand, obviously able to control his voice volume when it suited him. "He's as big as Off'cer 'Luso."
"Yes, he is." Gosh, we're nosy, she thought with a laugh. She picked this town for its family-type atmosphere, but since nothing different ever happened, a new neighbor became a major event. "Okay, time to finish dinner, guys."
She herded the twins back to the table and settled them. Sitting down and picking up her fork, she listened to them compare the man to one of their cartoon heroes.
"Lina?" The woman still stood by the door, an unnatural stillness surrounding her.
"It's nothing," she replied softly with shadowed eyes. "I thought he looked familiar for a moment."
Anna turned back to her children. Every time Lina saw a tall, dark man, he reminded her of her son. Anna couldn't blame her, she'd felt the twinge herself.
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He wandered around his borrowed home, basking in the kind of silence not found in a busy hospital. Three stories, it towered higher than the one across the street. There were eight bedrooms with little rooms attached, four connected by bathrooms. All decorated in soothing colors and comfortable furniture. No two alike. The downstairs was all windows and space, light and sound bouncing off the hardwood floors.
The scent of leather drew him to the den. Enormous hunter-green leather couches cornered one end of the room, flanking the windows yawning from the floor to the tip of the twelve-foot ceiling. He already knew he'd spend most of his time there. Not only for the view of Lake Coeur d'Alene and mountains beyond, but he could also see the entire front and right side of Annabella's house. Toys littered the porch and made the steps an obstacle course.
Toys belonging to the two small children.
He was going to put himself through daily hell just to make sure his family remained safe. Also, he conceded, he was there for himself.
He needed the sight of them the way the earth needed the sun.
Even though he was assured agents had been in place since the staged funeral, he wasn't taking any chances. They'd lied already by not telling him about his children and Anna months ago. And for all their contacts and information, they didn't know the identity of the mysterious hacker who tried to access his sealed files three days ago. It could have been an accident. But when his mother's and then Annabella's names were run through the banks, there was no doubt someone was interested in a dead man.
Picking up a barbell, he vented his frustration with rapid biceps curls, wishing he could storm across the street, reveal his identity and demand answers. But the less they knew, the safer they'd be. Which was why he'd hide behind his new face and keep the truth hidden until he dealt with the danger.
Fragmented thoughts pummeled him. Before he could come up with an answer for one, another question would hammer away. He put down the weight and strode to the window, ignoring the twinges in his legs. Another question, one that had haunted him for weeks, stopped him dead. Had Anna known she was pregnant the night he ended it? Damn it! Why hadn't he just forgiven her five years ago?
Because it had been easier to walk away.
Self-disgust churned through him. Even before his capture and twenty months of surgeries and rehabilitation, he'd not only reevaluated his life, but relived that night over and over. When anger and pain dulled, he easily remembered the fine trembling of her body, the stunned disbelief that darkened her eyes to deep black as he coldly told her it was over.
He could still hear the desperation in her voice as she pleaded and argued with him, telling him of her love, her dreams – their dreams. And he could hear his own voice, ugly with anger as he insulted her.
God, he'd been stupid. Stupid, macho, taking the easiest way out. The list was endless. But he'd been furious and filled with a pain close to the agony he'd felt at his brother Rafe's death. Betrayed by one of the two people he'd had left. Betrayed by the woman he wanted to spend his life with.
Years cushioning the pain, he could see how young they'd been … especially Annabella. Her childhood had been much worse than his, but somehow she'd kept her innocence. She'd believed in fairy tales and heroes and love. And he'd been hers.
That's why her cheating had destroyed him. He'd come to believe he was everything to her and never questioned her loyalty to him and their relationship. Never suspected she'd been seeing other men.
But his mama never lied.
Figuring he had no reason to stay, he jumped at the opportunity to become part of a special recon unit. His commendations while in the infantry proved he had the discipline and intelligence, and to be included among the best was too strong a pull to turn down. He'd used all of the fire and strength that burned in him for the good of his country. He'd never intended to just drift through life like so many of his peers, never changing or experiencing. He wanted to see the world, make a difference, live out his dreams.
Scoffing at his own naive intentions, Rico leaned against the frame of the open sliding glass door. His arms stretched above him, he curved forward, feeling his muscles stretch with newfound strength. If only emotions were as easy to heal as the body.
Because now he lived in a hell of his own making. If he hadn't reenlisted, if he'd forgiven Annabella. He wouldn't have been in that jungle, wouldn't have been captured and wouldn't have made enemies who threatened his own blood.
He'd still be Rico Carella.
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Anna's pencil flew over the paper. Spiky hair, big, golden eyes and freckles across a little nose completed the gamin face. Two big dimples framed a tiny grin and a wealth of little-boy mischief. The body quickly followed, not as short and plump as before, but stretching up into a sturdy frame.
Next, the girl. Long, corkscrew curls, enormous dark eyes, same freckle pattern and nose, and a grin different only in its feminine curve. Her ch
ildren and yet not. They were actually Ronnie and Roxie, the leading characters in her best-selling syndicated cartoon strip, Double Trouble. What started as a monthly strip in a parent's magazine was now featured in daily newspapers across the country.
Double Trouble began with depictions of Ronnie and Roxie in the womb. Two babies holding conversations and discussing the world they could hear, breathe and taste. Most of the cartoons were funny and appealed to women carrying children: the daily "boxing" matches to see which of mom's organs could be pushed farther out of the way or to see how many times they could make her go to the bathroom. Others dealt with the serious aspects of pregnancy, such as the twins coughing because the womb filled with secondhand smoke.
All in all it was fast becoming one of the most popular cartoons in the country. Double Trouble gave her a chance to share the magical world of twins and motherhood with millions of people, while supporting her family in comfort. She'd been lucky in many ways.
"Anna!" hollered Lina.
Anna's head snapped up. A note of panic threaded the yell. Hurtling down the two flights of stairs from her attic office, the first things she saw were blue and red lights discoing off her living room walls. Outside, Pete, aka Off'cer 'Luso, was getting out of his car.
She flew out to the porch as he opened the back door, reached in and lifted out her children one after the other, setting their feet on the ground. Arms held straight out in front of them, but bent with their hands pointing up, they looked like mummies that had run into a wall.
They were in handcuffs. But obviously Pete couldn't find any small enough so they had to hold their forearms up to keep the cuffs at their elbows.
Calming herself, helped by the amused glint in Pete's eyes and the ridiculous sight her kids presented, she managed to walk slowly down the porch steps.
"Ms. Ramsey, we seem to have a problem on our hands," his deep voice boomed, only the women able to detect its underlying humor. "I had to arrest your children. First, because they disobeyed their grandmother and climbed over the backyard fence."
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