His laughter unleashed Mitch’s fury, which had been held in check too long. To hell with the plans. Mitch sprang, catching Conrad off guard and around the neck in a choke hold. The Sauer spun out of the man’s limp hand. Using Conrad as a shield, Mitch placed himself between Gilly and Beau, who had belatedly managed to yank his weapon from his shoulder holster.
Although Conrad cursed and kicked and fought, Mitch—who’d kept his upper body strong working horses and digging fence-post holes—didn’t give him any room to maneuver. Mitch battled an urge to snap the bastard’s neck for what he’d done to Gillian. It would be so easy and it’d save the state the time and expense of a trial.
Reason swept over him, cooling his hatred. Reason was what separated him from lowlife like Conrad McGrath and the man who ran this dirty organization. The reward would be in watching them caged forever like the rats they were.
Calofonzo’s empire had imploded. Unwittingly, Gillian had wrenched the confession from Conrad that Bob needed to bring down the whole bunch.
During Mitch’s initial visit here, he’d seen Bob’s agents wire the room. Bob already had Daryl’s notebook. Although Mitch had tried to talk Hall into replacing the book with a fake, Bob had refused. Daryl’s safe was empty.
Now Mitch had only one thought—where the hell was the FBI?
Mitch heard Gillian groan behind him as his muscles began to feel the strain of keeping a grip on McGrath. At last—the front door burst open and the first of the agents poured inside.
“Took your damned time,” Mitch grunted, his words drowned by the pop of bullets flying between them and Beau, overlaid by the whup-whup of helicopter rotors.
“You’re a dirty-dealing double-crosser,” Conrad screamed, veins standing out on his forehead.
“He is, isn’t he?” Gillian said, sounding woozy. Mitch realized she’d climbed to her feet and now held McGrath’s Sauer unsteadily in her hand. Mitch thought she was trying to train it on Conrad, but he couldn’t be a hundred-percent positive she wasn’t aiming at his head. Not until she whispered, “Thank God, Mitch,” and gave him a trembling smile.
Bob Hall relieved Mitch of his burden by handcuffing Conrad’s wrists behind his back. Other agents did the same with Beau, who hadn’t given up easily. He and Sal, who’d waited in the car, both needed an ambulance. An agent phoned for one.
Only after McGrath was subdued did Gilly drop the gun. Mitch beckoned her with his own shaky arms. She sank into them, burying her face in the pulsing warmth of his neck. “Mitch, I thought you’d been sucked in by the promise of money. I thought you’d joined Conrad….” Great, gulping sobs shook her slender body.
Mitch pressed reassuring kisses along her tear-damp eyelids, and even softer kisses on her poor injured jaw. “I’m sorry you couldn’t tell how badly I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”
“Lucky for all of us you didn’t,” Bob exclaimed. “Daryl’s book alone won’t stand up in court. I need live witnesses. Otherwise, some of this bunch might’ve slipped through our hands again.”
“But not now?” Gillian asked anxiously. “A man named Calofonzo is the real leader. You’ll get him, too, won’t you?”
Bob Hall’s grin lit up his craggy face. “You bet. With luck we’ll have the motley crew sitting on death row in time for me to dance at your wedding.”
Gillian still clutched Mitch’s waist. She stepped back now and gaped at Hall.
“What? You are gonna marry the guy, aren’t you? Fussing about you being pregnant is all he’s done since Kevin Eloy landed in Brady, Texas, and had an enlightening chat with an old melon farmer.”
Gillian went white and gasped.
“Wait,” Hall said, frowning. “Was the part about the pregnancy a lie?”
Mitch looked so staggered by the possibility, Gilly felt even guiltier. “I—I’m not sure,” she admitted. “My nausea could’ve come from nerves. I—I thought they were going to kill me. The farmer was one of them, Mitch. I knew he wouldn’t pass on a message if I just said I loved you.”
Mitch framed her swollen jaw between palms that still stung from subduing Gilly’s captor. “Do you? Love me?”
Feeling exposed and vulnerable in a room filled with strangers, Gilly’s troubled gaze made a circuit of the agents staring at her. What if Mitch was hoping against hope that she wasn’t pregnant—and that she wouldn’t foolishly admit in front of all these men that she was crazy in love with him?
Her hesitation lasted just long enough for Mitch to feel her rejection. He unwound her arms from around his waist and put distance between them.
Gillian blinked furiously to block threatening tears. So much had happened in the last forty-eight hours. In the last two months, really. Her head ached, her jaw felt stiff and her body begged to sleep for a week.
There was no guarantee that she and Mitch hadn’t been reacting to all the emotions surrounding her circumstances. After all, they’d met in the midst of intrigue. What did either of them know about the other? Did love happen that fast? Or had she simply fallen for him because her life with Daryl had been so devoid of passion? Were her feelings confused by grief for Katie—and for Daryl? Maybe they should back off and take a hard look at their lives. Mustering her courage, she faced Mitch. “New Orleans is my home. Yours is Arizona. Mitch—I…”
His dark regard silenced her. “You’ve decided to stay here?”
“I have a town house. And Daryl’s business affairs must be in shambles.”
“I need her here for the grand jury investigation,” Bob quickly added. “You, too, Mitch. I’ll have to have your testimony.”
Mitch closed off every shred of feeling. He was good at it. He’d done it many times over the years. “You and I both know it’s not necessary for me to be here in person, Bob. I’ll give you a sworn deposition before I leave town. Which will be soon, I hope. If one of your men will see that Gil…er, Mrs. McGrath gets home, I’ll either hitch a ride to the airport with you or grab a cab. I can also have Ethan witness my deposition and overnight it to you all neatly stamped by Desert City P.D.’s notary.”
Gillian didn’t know why it felt as though her world had just split apart, since her life had been in chaos since she’d learned of her pregnancy with Katie. She prayed she could manage to hold on to her control long enough to leave with some pride. Swiftly, she gathered up her battered suitcase, along with the tattered emotions that made her Gillian Noelle McGrath. She hurried out, never once turning her eyes toward Mitch. If she did, she’d embarrass them all.
He watched her go in turmoil, not even attempting to remain dispassionate. He felt as if his living, breathing soul had been ripped out.
A voice broke through the foggy haze. “Don’t tell me you’re just going to walk away from Gillian after everything you went through to find her?” The pugnacious angle of Bob Hall’s square jaw shouted his disbelief.
Mitch gave himself a mental shake. “For the record, Bob. She’s the one doing the walking.”
“Yeah, but—” the older man scratched his chin “—I’m not sure I know what happened here.”
“Come on, Hall. You don’t strike me as the cupid type. What’s not to understand? The lady took a powder. We had an affair. It was good while it lasted. She’s moving on.”
“I’ll tell you what boggles my mind. How a nice guy who knocked himself out trying to save this woman—the same man who acted giddy as a kid over the prospect of becoming a dad—hell, I don’t understand how someone like that can clam up, shut down and say so long, it’s been good to know ya.”
“Will you run me to the airport or shall I call a cab?”
“Sure, I’ll drive you. Why not? But I’m changing my opinion. You aren’t a nice guy, after all.”
AT HOME AGAIN, Mitch holed up alone at his ranch. He concentrated on expanding his herd. For six months, he avoided efforts by his friends to get through to him, and he avoided going into town. He refused Ethan and Regan’s phone calls.
And he acted so surly whenever
Ethan dropped by, that his closest friend stopped coming to see him.
Ethan Knight pieced together what information he could from reading the final FBI report submitted to his chief. It looked to him as if Mitch had left New Orleans a hero. And Gillian, the woman they all assumed he’d been nuts about, had been absolved of any wrongdoing. It should’ve ended happily for everyone involved. But it hadn’t.
“Have you seen Mitch in town at all since he left here that night with Gillian?” Regan demanded of Ethan one night at dinner.
“You know I haven’t. The fool’s turned himself into a recluse. Last time I stopped by his ranch, Mitch looked really ragged. What made you ask now?” Ethan opened a package of baby biscuits and handed one to each of the four toddlers. Three had finally gotten the requisite number of teeth, and were caught up to other kids their age. Only Cara lagged behind, but she improved daily.
“I received a box from Gilly today. The clothes I lent her, plus a new jacket. She said mine got ripped by the men who kidnapped her. She apologized for taking so long, but she’s had a lot on her plate. Her ex-husband’s business was a legal mess.”
“So what’s that got to do with Mitch?”
“Read her note, Ethan. She seems starved for information about him. From the way Flo and Bert talked, I had the impression Gillian dumped Mitch. Now I’m not so sure.”
Ethan scanned the note and frowned. “She asks one simple question here. How’s Mitch?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So from that you gather she’s pining away in New Orleans for my ex-friend. Ex because the dodo’s quit calling, quit shaving and has become a damned hermit.”
“Really? He’s quit shaving? There you go. They’re both pining away. Ethan, it’s up to us to get them together.”
“Oh, no.” Ethan held up his hands. “Aren’t we being tortured enough having three kids potty training and one cutting molars all at the same time?”
“Mmm. Oh, thank you, sweetheart. You just gave me the perfect reason to invite Gillian for a visit. Look at me. I can’t handle potty-training three kiddies on my own. Woe is me,” she drawled dramatically.
Ethan smiled and leaned over to kiss her lips. Angela gurgled something that sounded like “Dadee,” and landed a spoonful of mashed potatoes smack in Ethan’s eye. He wiped the mess away with his napkin. “Don’t wait for letters to go back and forth,” he muttered. “Wire her a ticket tomorrow.”
“I’m ahead of you—I already did. Or rather, Odella took care of those arrangements today. Gilly arrives on Friday at five o’clock. Can you pick her up at the airport on your way home from work?”
Ethan nodded dumbly while Regan flung her arms around him and delivered a smacking kiss on his nose. “I’ll give you a better thank you tonight after we get the kids to bed,” she promised without coyness, making his acceptance over being outmaneuvered a lot easier to accept.
ON FRIDAY, Ethan dashed into the local airport in time to hear a droning voice announce the arrival of Gilly’s plane. He paced anxiously, wondering if Regan had done the wrong thing by inviting Gillian to visit. Maybe it was a dirty trick to play on Mitch.
Two things floored Ethan Knight about the woman who approached him. He would have let her pass without a glance had she not grabbed his arm and said his name. Last time he’d seen her she wasn’t a blonde, nor had she been wearing a maternity smock that failed to conceal a rounded belly.
“I’m sorry to shock you, Ethan, and I see I have.” Gilly’s face flamed. “I expected Regan to meet me. My, er, uh…condition might have been easier to explain to a woman.”
“You don’t owe me any explanation.” Ethan snatched up the overnight case she’d set atop a compact case on wheels. “Is this the extent of your luggage?”
“Yes. I know Regan doesn’t really need my help with the quadruplets. And I’ll be returning her ticket, of course. I don’t need money, Ethan, not after settling Daryl’s estate. What Regan’s invitation did was light a fire under me. I realized I couldn’t put off talking face-to-face with Mitch any longer.” She chewed on her upper lip.
“In fact, I’d count it as a great favor, Ethan, if you’d run me by his ranch and wait while I deliver a message. I shouldn’t be long saying what needs to be said.”
Ethan’s eyes settled on her expanding waistline. “I wouldn’t be too sure.” As they walked out to his SUV, Ethan indulged in a bit of meddling—the very thing he accused Mitch of doing early on in his own relationship with Regan.
Stowing her bags in the back seat with Taz, Ethan casually brought up Mitch’s unhappy childhood. “He’s always lacked a family to lean on, so to speak. Since he got back from New Orleans, he’s cut himself off from all his friends. From everyone. He’s hiding out, Gillian. And he’s hurting,” Ethan said, his tone bordering on accusatory.
Gilly listened. She didn’t say anything.
Ethan chose the shortcut he and Mitch had used the day they caught her in Mitch’s living room. Once again he drove as fast as the limit allowed.
Turning into Valetti’s lane, Ethan slowed before he neared the end and stopped outside the fence. He and Gilly saw Mitch and Trooper leave the barn.
“He looks terrible,” Gilly whispered. Her breath caught, and she quickly skimmed away tears.
“Sure you want me to wait?” Ethan asked softly.
“Yes.” Even as she whispered it, Gillian climbed from the vehicle.
Mitch saw her at once. While Trooper bounded forward to greet their visitor, Mitch hung back. His gaze swept over her a second time. His eyes left her beautiful face and skidded back to her belly. To the smock fluttering in the cold east wind.
His heart rate went up twenty points as joy and hope warred with a terrible fear that she’d come to ask him to sign release papers giving up all rights to his child.
Mitch knew the baby was his. He’d known back in Sedona the day she denied the possibility. He’d known when Eloy phoned in from Brady, Texas. He’d known in New Orleans, the day Gillian claimed her nausea was due to nerves. What he hadn’t known was what in hell to do about it.
They met at the corner of his repaired fence. Trooper yipped at first one, and then the other, butting them playfully with his head.
Gilly patted the dog’s silky ears. “Mitch…” She had a neat laundry list of things she’d prepared to say. Instead, she choked on a sob and said brokenly, “Oh, God, Mitch. I’ve—I’ve—missed you.”
Her admission didn’t sink in right away. The instant it did, Mitch tossed aside the argument he’d begun to compose, demanding a spot in his baby’s life. “Same goes for me. Oh, Gilly… We need to talk.”
“Noreen Malone came to New Orleans,” Gilly blurted. “She helped me finalize Daryl’s business holdings. Patrick is recovering. Slowly but steadily. We weren’t to blame for the second attack on him. He telephoned Conrad, just to chat about Daryl’s funeral and how things were going….”
“I know. He called me. So did Bob Hall. Everyone has, but you.”
“I’m sorry. It’s been hectic. I sold Daryl’s house and furniture, and my town house. I put all my things in storage.”
“Really? What are you going to do?” He didn’t want to sound hopeful.
“Uh…Flo said my old job’s there any time I want it. They hired someone but she’s planning to go back to college and would like to work fewer hours.”
“Wait tables all day in your condition? I don’t think so.”
“Then what?” A world of possibility hung on those two small words.
“Enough talk. It’s time for action, Gilly.” Closing the gap, Mitch gathered her against him and lifted her off her feet, all the while fusing their lips in a kiss that went on so long, Ethan tooted his car horn.
The longer they ignored him, the less sure he was about how to proceed. Digging out his cell phone, he called Regan.
“She’s pregnant? That’s exactly what I thought. For heavens sake, Ethan, leave her bags on Mitch’s porch and come home. You can watch the kids w
hile I round up some people to start planning Mitch and Gilly’s wedding.”
“Aren’t you rushing things? They’re not even engaged.”
“Ah, my love. Soon. Odella and I have the most romantic wedding in mind. All we need is for Mitch and Gilly to give us the go-ahead.”
IT WASN’T UNTIL late the next afternoon that anyone saw or heard from the couple. Phone messages between Mitch’s friends and former co-workers ran hot and heavy.
Shortly after four o’clock, Regan saw them drive up and climb out of Mitch’s Corvette. Not an easy feat for Gillian in her very pregnant state.
Calling to Odella, Regan hurried down the hall and threw open the door. She met them both with tears and outstretched arms. “Those sappy smiles you two are wearing can only be good news.” She kept crying and patting Mitch’s clean-shaven face.
Odella grinned over Regan’s shoulder as she gripped the hands of two toddlers staring shyly at the new arrivals.
“We’re getting married,” Mitch announced, turning to filter his fingers lovingly through Gillian’s longer, silkier hair.
“This is the real me,” Gilly exclaimed as she noticed Odella eying her from head to toe.
“It suits you,” Regan exclaimed, tugging the couple inside. “And your coloring is perfect for a winter wedding.” She and Odella alternately rattled off possibilities for flowers and dress colors. “Ethan’s mom volunteered her home for the reception. They have a covered patio. If the weather holds, people can easily spill over onto it.” She stopped in midsentence on seeing Mitch and Gilly exchange looks of dismay.
“Am I getting ahead of myself?”
“Would you and Ethan mind driving to Sedona to stand up with us?” Gilly asked. “We’d like to include Odella and Roger, as well. Also Bert and Flo. Bob Hall and some of the other agents. Noreen Malone’s promised to bring Patrick. Mitch’s sisters and their families are coming. Not his parents but that’s no big surprise. And my mom and stepfather said they’d fly in. I can’t believe it, but my mother said they’d look at buying a winter home here, what with the prospect of spending time with their grandchild.” Gilly’s fingers sought and found the bear fetish she wore—the necklace Mitch had bought her. The same one Conrad had broken when he threw her across the room. Having it repaired was the first thing she did when she thought she’d lost Mitch forever. Wearing it daily connected them in a way she couldn’t begin to explain.
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