A Warrior’s Mission

by Rita Herron

  Night ordered a bottle of wine and they dined on steak and bison. Holly had lost weight the past few months, but now their son was safe, her appetite had returned.

  “That was delicious.” She took a sip of the Merlot and pushed back her empty plate. “I don’t know when I’ve been so hungry.”

  “It’s been a long few days,” he said, thinking back. Now that he’d found Holly and Schyler and Grace had been caught, he regretted returning to civilization. But tomorrow he had to follow up with Colleen and see if Grace had identified the other shooter.

  “A long few months,” Holly clarified. She gazed at their son and ruffled his dark hair. “But this fellow is worth every minute.”

  “Mama. Mama,” Schyler babbled, swatting at the tray.

  Holly’s eyes teared. “Do you have any idea how much I missed you, little fellow?”

  Night’s throat closed at the emotion in her voice. He only wished she shared that same love for him and his way of life. But Holly came from money, from fine things. Once her father put the pressure on her again, would she do as Charity had done—choose a man from her own world to spend her time with instead of one with the blood of a Cheyenne?

  HEAT ENVELOPED Holly as they polished off the wine and walked back to the suitThough she was bone tired, she felt very much alive and fortunate to have this reprieve from reality before she was forced to return home.

  She didn’t intend to waste a minute.

  Night carried Schyler to the crib they’d had placed in the sitting area of the suite, and tucked the blanket over him. The poor little guy had fallen asleep in his arms on their way back to the room. Their adventure had obviously worn him out as well. But at least now he was free from that maniac doctor. And Mary.

  She shivered at the memory of the nurse’s voice proclaiming Sky as her son.

  “Are you cold? You’re not getting sick again, are you?” Night’s worried look moved her. He pressed a hand to her forehead to check for fever. “We can turn up the heat.”

  “No. I was just thinking about Mary and Dr. Grace.”

  A low sigh escaped him. “Try to put them out of your mind. You and Schyler are safe.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you want to call your parents?”

  She surprised him by shaking her head. “You said Colleen would let them know that Schyler and I are all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll see them tomorrow.”

  He started to lower his hand, but she caught it in hers. “Night…thank you for coming after me and Schyler.”

  His dark eyes turned black with emotions she couldn’t read. For a brief second, he’d let that mask slip, he’d almost let her in. “I don’t want your thanks,” he finally said in a thick voice.

  Her breath hitched. “What do you want?”

  He stared at her for so long, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then a look of such naked longing filled his eyes that her throat closed. They didn’t need words, she decided, seconds later, as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

  They simply needed to be together.

  THEIR LOVEMAKING was intense this time, slow and deliberate and far more sensual than any experience Night had ever shared with a woman. He ordered himself to guard his heart, but as Holly lay naked in his arms, opening herself up to him with wild abandon, it seemed an impossible feat to manage.

  She was going to break his heart, far worse than Charity Carmichael had ever done. Because this woman had woven a spell over him with her laughing green eyes, her sassy smile and the passionate way she offered herself to him.

  She had also given him a son. A precious gift that meant more to him than life itself.

  He closed his eyes as she rode him, imagining the two of them back at the Royal Flush, imagining his son growing up amongst the horse and cowboys, imagining Holly taking his name as he walked down the aisle.

  And when she cried out his name in sweet oblivion, he knew that he had lost the battle over guarding his heart.

  Walking away from her this time would be damn near impossible.

  THE NEXT MORNING, the air felt tense between them as they dressed in silence. Even Schyler seemed to sense the uncertainty between them, and had cried during breakfast.

  At the airport, Night checked them in, they went through security, then settled into first class. Thankfully, Schyler took a bottle and fell asleep. Holly wound her hands in a knot. Night had said nothing about the future, nothing about loving her, or wanting them to be a family.

  Her parents planned to meet them at the airport. The press would be there, too.

  Then everything would change.

  HE STOOD in the shadows of the airport, amidst the milieu of strangers and press and Joshua Langworthy’s constituents, watching with contempt-filled eyes as the Centennial family walked through the lobby to their private gate, waving and smiling with delight at the outpouring of support and love from their fellow Coloradans. Hundreds had turned out to witness the return of the Langworthy baby and his mother, all having forgotten that the child was the illegitimate heir to the throne of the legendary family. His birth should be considered scandalous. And the man who had stolen the baby was none other than Celia Langworthy’s first husband, a crazy SOB who was playing around with germ warfare, a menace to the safety of the American public.

  The Langworthys always came out shining like glittering diamonds in the rain while he got nothing.

  He itched to exact his revenge in a public way, but getting caught would impede his future plans. He was no fool to justice or the fact that security was at its premium today. Langworthy had secret security teams scattered throughout the airport. They surrounded his home.

  He would have to wait.

  He knew how to get to Langworthy now. And he knew exactly where to find Holly Langworthy when the time came.

  And nothing would stop him. The next time Holly Langworthy’s picture appeared in the newspaper, it would be in the obituaries.

  Then Joshua Langworthy wouldn’t be smiling for the cameras.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As soon as Holly and Schyler entered the airport, they were swept up in a maelstrom of activity. Her father’s private security team surrounded them while he dragged her into his arms.

  “Thank God you’re alive.”

  “I’m so happy to see you,” her mother whispered through a well of tears.

  Holly hugged them both, fitting Schyler between her parents as they each kissed Schyler. He batted at the air between them, squealing as if he knew he was the guest of honor at the welcome party, and he intended to put on a show. Cameras snapped, flashes blinding her, the shouts of virtual strangers yelling and clapping and crying. Her half sister, Marilyn, held back, looking wary and more contrite Holly had ever seen her. Holly broke the ice by hugging her.

  “I’m so sorry, Holly,” Marilyn choked out.

  “Shh. It’s not your fault.”

  She and Marilyn had had their differences in the past, but her half sister’s own pregnancy, now very apparent, had softened her. They had just begun to form a new bond in the past few months.

  Joshua crowded in and hugged them both to him. “Glad to have you and my nephew home, sis. And to have Marilyn here, too.”

  “Thank you, Governor,” Holly said with a smile.

  She had never seen her family so close, all huddled together amidst the hundreds of spectators, the gleam of the Langworthy pride evident in the way her father waved at the crowd.

  She shied away from the spotlight though, suddenly missing the quiet intimacy of the cave where she and Night had been alone. She searched the group for Night and spotted him standing by the wall, the sea of people between them. He seemed so far away. She wanted to draw him near her, touch him. But she couldn’t move for the smothering people reaching out to try and touch her baby’s hand. Security pushed the crowd away, planting her firmly in the middle of her father’s brigade and herding them toward an exit. She had been suffocated by her father�
�s security all her life. Never allowed to have a normal life. Her life shaped by the family name.

  Would it always be this way?

  Outside, the questions began. One reporter after another shoved microphones forward and fired questions. “Were you scared, Ms. Langworthy?”

  “Did Dr. Grace hurt the baby?”

  “Is it true you were infected with a genetically engineered virus?”

  “Why did Dr. Grace take the baby?”

  “Did he really want to use the baby as an experiment?”

  “How did you get your son away from him and escape alive?”

  “Did the father have anything to do with the kidnapping?”

  Holly’s gaze locked with Night’s. She desperately wanted him to take over, to speak for her and their son. He moved toward her as if to answer the questions, sliding through the crowd as soundlessly as he had the forest.

  But her father raised a regal hand and motioned for quiet. “The rescue mission was a joint effort between the Department of Public Safety and the FBI, along with private detectives working with Langworthy security. As you can imagine, we’re grateful to all the detectives and law enforcement agencies who’ve worked diligently over the last few months to make this day possible and bring this nightmare to a close.” He hugged Holly and planted a kiss on the baby’s head for show. “We’re just so happy to have them home.”

  Schyler babbled, swatting at Night’s hand, and Night slid a hand to his back, moving up next to Holly.

  A blond female reporter zeroed in on the movement and raised her hand. “Are you one of the detectives on the case or is your involvement with Ms. Langworthy pers”

  Night froze and Holly opened her mouth to speak, to announce to the world that Night was Schyler’s father, that he had rescued his son, not put him in harm, but Night gave her an odd look and her own father cut her off.

  “This is Night Walker, a special detective I enlisted to look for my grandson. He was on the team who rescued my daughter and her child.” Her father turned to Night. “Would you make a brief statement about Grace please?”

  Night nodded. “Our sources have proven that Dr. Theodore Grace was working on recombinant DNA experiments and making mixtures of germs that could be used either to protect or wipe out large numbers of people. The U.S. government has him in custody now and will monitor his every movement.”

  “So, he isn’t planning a germ warfare attack?”

  “The situation is under control,” Night said. “The public can rest safely.”

  Langworthy cleared his throat. “On behalf of the Langworthy family, we owe all of these detectives a huge thank-you.” Langworthy pivoted back toward the throng, his comment serving as a dismissal. “Now, my daughter and her son have been through enough of an ordeal for today. My wife and I would like to take them home. Please excuse us.”

  Holly felt her father and his men tug her along, the security guards imprisoning her in their safety net.

  Night fell in behind the crowd, the distance between them widening with every step.

  NIGHT HAD HIS ANSWER.

  Holly had had the perfect opportunity to introduce him as her child’s father and to stand up to Samuel Langworthy but she had opted to remain silent. To allow the press and spectators to believe he was just another hired hand.

  Should he have expected any differently?

  The incident with Charity replayed in his head in vivid clarity. Being used by her had hurt back then, but in retrospect, he realized, her betrayal had been trivial compared to the anguish he felt now. He’d been tempted to commandeer the microphone, to set the record straight himself. Only his love for his son and respect for Holly’s choice had kept him from doing so.

  It was time for him to accept that he would never be more than a temporary lover to Holly. A man it was okay to have sex with in private, but not a man to be seen on her arm in public.

  And he would accept those conditions. Even if it meant only seeing his son when she would allow, or when the courts dictated.

  Everything depended on Holly.

  He hitched a ride with Langworthy’s security team and followed the Langworthy limo to the mansion. A flurry of activity awaited them there, more reporters, more of Joshua’s followers bobbing welcome home signs to the Langworthy grandbaby outside the gates to the mansion. The crowd cheered when Holly and his son rode through the gates. She waved to everyone as they passed, then again from the porch stoop before being ushered inside by the suits.

  “I need to speak with the Langworthys,” he told the driv

  “Will you need a ride back to the airport later?”

  He chewed the inside of his cheek, then gave a curt nod. He had to check on Grace’s research, find out what type of virus or germ Mary had given to Holly. And Colleen still hadn’t found out the name of the shooter, although with Grace in custody, he suspected the man had gone into hiding. “I’ll let you know what time my flight is.”

  The driver agreed, and Night slipped from the car, unnoticed as anyone but another of Langworthy’s staff.

  INSIDE, Marilyn, Josh, the maid Antonia, and Celia all gathered in the living room, gushing over the baby.

  “He’s grown so much,” Celia said. “It’s hard to believe he’s the same infant you brought home from the hospital.”

  “I know,” Holly said. “He’s filled out, and he’s almost crawling now.”

  “He’s beautiful.” Marilyn looked longingly at Schyler as she rested a hand on her pregnant belly.

  “I know you’ve been through hell, Holly.” Josh engulfed her in a brotherly bear hug. “I wish I could have done more.”

  “You’ve all been here for me,” Holly said. “Your love and support was what I needed most, and you gave me that.”

  Everyone hugged and cried again, Schyler entertaining them with baby gibberish as they passed him around. “The cook prepared a lovely lunch for everyone,” Celia said. “I imagine my grandson is tired from traveling.”

  “He’s a trooper, but he’ll probably nap after he eats.” Holly scooped him into her arms, and swirled him around. “Let’s go get some food, sweetie.” Then she wanted to find Night. They needed to talk about the two of them and how they’d make a public announcement that Schyler was his son. He did want that, didn’t he?

  She’d also been contemplating her future, trying to decide if she wanted to be a full-time mother, help with her father’s business, or head the charities her mother worked with. When Night had talked about the reservation where he’d grown up, she’d been moved by the thought of the children there and how they lived. Maybe there was something she could do to improve conditions on the reservations.

  Helping his people might prove her love to Night, and she could honor her son’s heritage at the same time.

  WHEN NIGHT entered Samuel Langworthy’s study, the older man glared at him, letting him know without preamble that he wasn’t a welcome party to the homecoming.

  Even though Night had risked his life to save the Langworthys’ grandson.

  “Samuel, we need to talk.”

  “You think there’s a problem with Grace’s arrest?”

  “No.” He explained about the other shoot their speculations. “But I watched the agents take Grace away myself. I’ve spoken with Colleen. He’s in government custody now. There’s no way he’ll see the light of day without supervision or be able to get to your family again.”

  Holly’s father wiped a hand across his forehead, stress lining his face. He had been sweating.

  “I expect a full written report on his research,” Langworthy said. “And the virus he used to infect my daughter.”

  “The government and ICU are dissecting his research as we speak,” Night explained. “For security reasons, they’ll want to keep a tight lid on his experiments. The last thing we want is a public scare.” Night rubbed a hand over his neck. “But from now on, Grace will be working for his countrymen, not against us.”

  Langworthy nodded wearily, then sat d
own at his desk and poured two scotches. He handed one to Night, then sniffed the other one before he downed the drink in one sip. Night stared at the highball glass, swirling the dark liquid in his hand. He had wasted enough time.

  “I intend to talk to Holly about being a part of my son’s life.”

  Langworthy’s angry gaze shot upward. “Holly is young and impetuous, but she deserves a chance at a real life, Walker. A life you can’t give her.”

  “I think that’s up to Holly to decide.”

  Langworthy poured himself another drink, this time sipping. “She might fancy she’s in love with you, but what will happen once she faces reality? You’re constantly in danger.” He leaned back in his leather chair and indicated his surroundings. “You can’t give her the lifestyle she’s accustomed to, and you can’t promise you won’t die on your next assignment. What kind of way is that for her to live and raise a child?”

  Night grimaced. Langworthy had a point.

  “And you know how damn hard that child will have it growing up. Teased by the whites, not fitting in with the Cheyenne either.” Langworthy produced a magazine filled with pictures depicting life on the reservations. Shots of the poverty, articles about the alcoholism, lack of education…photographs that Night did not need to see in a magazine because he had real memories stamped permanently in his mind.

  “Do you want your son to grow up with this as his legacy?” Langworthy cleared his throat. “You know I’m right, Walker. With the Langworthy name behind him, he won’t have to worry about being accepted.”

  The name beads around Night’s neck tingled.

  He wanted to argue, but the pain of being shunned all his life ran too deep. Barfights. His days of being a bounty hunter. Of not fitting in, of the white man not wanting his hands on their women. Of feeling alone after his parents’ death? Of wanting Holly but knowing it was wrong.