Soldier's Christmas Secrets

by Laura Scott

  The second photo was even more interesting. It was a close-up photo of an open box of guns. Hawk shifted his gaze from one photo to the next. The box was on the ground near the two men, the American soldier and the unknown rebel.

  He sat back in his chair for a long moment, the implication reeling in his mind. Was it possible he’d witnessed a gun sale between one of the men he’d fought alongside and the enemy?

  And if so, how did Senator Barton fit into the puzzle? He had to assume this was the reason he and his team had been targeted.

  Because they’d seen too much.

  * * *

  Safe in the cabin, Jillian tried to put those moments that they’d been under fire out of her mind. Focusing on Lizzy helped and she silently promised herself that next time, she’d listen to Hawk.

  If she and Hawk hadn’t escaped today, what would have happened to Lizzy? With no surviving relatives, their daughter would no doubt end up in the foster care system.

  She was thankful that God had kept them safe, but she also knew that her insistence on going along with Hawk and Mike could have ended far differently.

  Her stomach unknotted enough that she was able to eat two slices of pizza. Watching Hawk, she noticed that he’d pulled out the photos from the envelope and was studying them carefully. Before she could ask him about them, Mike did.

  “Something interesting?” Mike asked.

  Hawk nodded. “Yeah. I think I know why I’ve been targeted.”

  “Why is that?” Noah asked.

  Hawk slid the photos across the table toward the others. “Take a look, tell me what you see.”

  Jillian leaned over to see for herself, but the glare on the photo made it difficult to see the details.

  “Mommy, I’m done,” Lizzy announced.

  “Okay.” She stood and went over to get a wet napkin to wipe off the tomato sauce and cheese from her daughter’s hands and face, before setting her down. “Don’t forget Belle.”

  “I won’t.” Lizzy scampered over to pick up her doll and began to play in the living room.

  “One of our guys sold guns to an insurgent?” Noah asked, his tone reflecting his horror.

  “That’s what I see,” Hawk agreed, his expression grim. “Who is this guy? Other than being an American soldier?”

  Jillian could barely comprehend what they were saying. “You mean, one of our men sold the enemy guns for money?”

  “That dirtbag” Mike said harshly. “To put American guns in the hands of the insurgents is beyond awful. How many of our men and women died being shot by American guns wielded by the enemy?”

  “Too many,” Matt said quietly. “No wonder Senator Barton has sent armed men after you.”

  “Yeah, except there’s no way to prove Barton was involved,” Hawk said.

  Jillian’s stomach knotted up all over again. Holding onto the photos felt like holding onto a stick of dynamite. The whole thing could blow up in their faces at any time.

  “Maybe we should send it to the newspapers,” Mike suggested. “Going public may be the best way to protect you and your family.”

  Hawk grimaced. “My word and a grainy picture of a guy I can’t identify? That won’t get me very far.” He paused, then added, “Besides, even if I could prove this soldier is linked to Barton, the situation could be taken out of context and turned the other way. Barton could claim the guy was an insurgent informant who returned the box of stolen guns to the US.”

  There was a long moment of silence as they imagined how that scenario would play out.

  “What if we can find other evidence?” Noah suggested. “Something that would link Barton to the guns?”

  “You mean like serial numbers?” Hawk shook his head. “Too many years have passed to track them down.”

  “Are we sure Senator Barton is involved?” She asked. “It’s a serious allegation against a powerful man.”

  There was a long moment before Hawk spoke up. “I believe Senator Barton is involved, because I have a clear memory of seeing him in the Afghan mountains.” He pointed to the photo on the table. “Just like this.”

  “But that guy isn’t Barton,” Noah said, stating the obvious.

  “I know.” Hawk’s expression went hard. “But don’t you see? Whoever this guy in the photo is, he must have friends in high places. They rigged my team’s plane to crash in the mountains.”

  “True,” Mike said, trying to appease Hawk. “So let’s say Barton is involved. Maybe it’s about money and power. Could be Barton has always aspired to be elected into office. What if we tried to trace the money?” Mike gestured toward the computer. “Digging into his campaign funds may reveal something interesting.”

  “Again, this was all five years ago.” Hawk abruptly stood, revealing his frustration. “Anything that far back will be well covered up by now.”

  “We don’t know that until we look,” Mike said.

  Hawk shook his head. “It’s impossible. My family won’t be safe until we can find proof that links Barton to the guns.”

  “Hawk,” Mike began, but it was too late. Hawk strode out of the kitchen, walked through the living room and disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

  Leaving a tense silence in his wake.

  The Callahans looked at each other, then at her. “Don’t worry,” Mike said in an attempt to be helpful. “We’ll figure this out.”

  Jillian tried to summon a smile, but inside she felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Until now, Hawk had been her pillar of strength.

  His lack of faith was like taking a sledgehammer to the foundation of her fragile home.

  “Excuse me,” she managed as she rose to her feet. She followed Hawk’s path through the living room, making sure Lizzy was okay, before she lightly rapped on the bedroom door.

  There was no answer, but that didn’t stop her from opening the door a bit. “Hawk?”

  She could see his dark silhouette standing in front of the window, the moonlight reflecting over the lingering patches of snow. She pushed the door open further and went inside.

  Jillian was torn between offering comfort and demanding he find a way to keep Lizzy safe.

  “I’m sorry.” His hoarse voice was low and rough. “I never should have survived that mountain crash. And I never, ever should have mailed those photos to you.”

  “Hawk, please. It hurts me when you say things like that.” She tentatively approached, resting her hand on his back. His muscles went tense beneath her touch, and she feared he’d pull away from her. “I’m glad you survived the crash. And I’m grateful to have you here with me now.”

  For a long moment he didn’t move, but then he slowly turned to face her.

  She stared up at him, searching his expression in the moonlight. Then she lifted her hand and cupped his scarred cheek. He flinched and tried to move away, but she held firm. “Please don’t lose faith,” she whispered.

  “Jilly...” Her name was little more than a sigh. He slowly placed his hands on her waist and drew her close. She slipped her hand around his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him.

  His mouth on hers was familiar yet different. The chemistry between them had always sizzled, but there was also a newness to the embrace. And when they finally came up for air, she felt more confused than ever, unable to fully mesh the Hawk she was with now to the man she’d once married.

  EIGHT

  Hawk had no idea how it happened. One minute he was beating himself up inside for being so stupid as to bring danger to the two people he loved most in the world, and the next he was kissing Jilly as if he’d never stop.

  “I—um,” he fumbled for what to say, sensing an apology would not be welcome. He may have holes in his memory surrounding the past, but right here, right now, was crystal clear in his mind.

  Jilly had kissed him. She’d put her hand on his scarre
d cheek, refusing to let him pull away, and had kissed him. He found it hard to imagine she wasn’t repulsed by his scarred face.

  He’d held his wife in his arms for the first time in five years, and now that he had, he realized how much he didn’t want to let her go.

  Yet even while he silently rejoiced over their kiss and embrace, he warned himself not to read too much into what had transpired between them. They were on the run and in danger. Emotions were always heightened in times of stress.

  James was gone, and only Hawk remained. He refused to hold Jillian to vows they’d exchanged what seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Even as all these thoughts tumbled through his mind, he couldn’t imagine his life without Jillian and Lizzy.

  His wife and daughter.

  “Hawk, I know you’ve been through a lot, but you can’t give up. I need you to be strong.” She paused and added, “Lizzy and I both need you to stay strong and focused. There has to be something we can do to reveal the truth about what happened five years ago.”

  “I’m not giving up,” he assured her, regretting his moment of weakness. He’d stared at the photos, willing his memory to return, but the gaps had stubbornly remained. He remembered Jilly, the brief moment he’d seen Barton in the mountains, but not the identity of the soldier in the photo. He shook off the depressing thoughts. “I promise I won’t rest until you and Lizzy are safe.”

  “I believe you. And remember, we’re in this together,” she said, reaching for his hand.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that her only job was to keep Lizzy safe, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead he gave her hand a squeeze before letting go and moving back toward the living room.

  “Mommy, look! Belle is on TV!” Lizzy pointed excitedly at the television screen as she clutched her doll to her chest. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Not as pretty as you,” Jilly said with a smile, dropping a kiss on top of their daughter’s head.

  Hawk was secretly pleased his gift had made Lizzy happy. Sure, one doll couldn’t make up for missing the past four years of her life, but it was a start to forging a relationship of some sort with his daughter.

  “I found it on the kids’ channel,” Mike offered. “Figured she’d love seeing it.”

  “Thank you, Mike.” The way Jilly smiled at Mike made Hawk grind his teeth together to keep him from saying something stupid. Mike was hardly a threat; the guy was head over heels in love with his wife. There was no reason for Hawk to act like a jealous fool.

  “Mr. Hawk, will you watch Belle with me?” Lizzy asked, looking up at him with a shy smile.

  Hawk’s heart melted and he knew he’d do anything to keep his daughter happy. “Sure, for a few minutes.”

  He dropped down beside her on the sofa, watching Lizzy more than the cartoon on the television. Her joy made him smile. Lizzy clapped her hands, dragging his attention to the television. He had no idea there was a whole movie about the doll he’d picked up on impulse at the store, but apparently his instinct had been right on.

  It took him a minute to realize the movie Lizzy was watching was Beauty and the Beast. Belle was Beauty, and the interaction between Belle and the Beast reminded him too much of his new relationship with Jilly.

  Only he knew his physical handicap wouldn’t change after a kiss and declaration of love.

  “Hawk, do you have a minute?” Mike called from the kitchen.

  With reluctance, he left his daughter’s side and crossed over to join them.

  “Remember Ryker Tillman?”

  Hawk nodded. He’d met the soldier six months ago, when they’d all worked together with Mike and the rest of the Callahans to uncover the truth about an organization known as the Dark Knights, who were responsible for former Milwaukee Police Chief Max Callahan’s murder. “What about him?”

  “I just spoke to Ryker. He’s busy now, but he agreed to head up here tomorrow to help us identify this guy.” Mike tapped the photo. “Maybe once we know who this guy is, we’ll be able to find the link to Barton.”

  The possibility sparked a glimmer of hope. “That would be great.”

  “Listen, we need to hit the road,” Matt said. “But we’ll return in the morning.”

  Hawk wanted to protest but understood the Callahans and Noah all had wives and kids waiting at home. “Thanks.”

  The men pulled on their jackets and headed outside.

  Hawk walked with them, watching as they split up. Mike headed toward the SUV that Hawk had stolen from the masked men. They’d run the plate but it was only registered to a corporation, not an individual. The corp was called Maxwell, Inc. and didn’t sound familiar. The plan was to abandon it near the lakefront, in the complete opposite direction from where the cabin motels were located.

  Matt and Noah would follow in the vehicle they had arrived in, picking up Mike and taking him home.

  When they were gone, Hawk made a final sweep of the area outside the cabin, familiarizing himself with the terrain, before going back inside.

  In the living room, he could hear Jillian telling Lizzy to get ready for bed now that the movie was over.

  He sat in front of the computer, staring morosely at the picture of Senator Rick Barton on the screen.

  Was Jillian right? What if Barton wasn’t involved? Was Hawk being foolish to trust a five-year-old memory fragment? After everything he’d been through, there was no doubt his mind could easily play tricks on him.

  He pulled up the search function with a renewed sense of steely determination. The memory was real. Jillian had proved real, and so was what he’d seen that day in Afghanistan. He couldn’t believe otherwise.

  Which meant there had to be proof somewhere of Barton being involved in dirty dealings.

  He just had to find it.

  * * *

  Jillian tossed and turned on her twin bed next to Lizzy’s, the memory of Hawk’s kiss making it impossible to sleep.

  When he’d pulled away, she’d thought for sure he was going to apologize for kissing her despite the fact that she was the one who’d kissed him.

  Kissed Hawk, not James. Weird how the two men had become separate in her mind. It wasn’t the scar that grooved his cheek that made him different, but more the man he’d become.

  Maybe because her memories of James were pre-Lizzy, pre-deployment. The reality of Hawk helping her escape the gunmen in her home, in the woods outside his cabin, and again outside the elementary school, was very different.

  Caring for Hawk felt like a betrayal to James. Those years after she’d been told James had died, she’d mourned what they’d lost. The chance to be a family.

  Yet now that Hawk was here, alive and well, she still hadn’t told Lizzy he was her father.

  She must have fallen asleep at some point, because the enticing scent of fresh brewed coffee woke her up the following morning.

  Peering over at the bed on the other side of the wall, she could see Lizzy was still asleep. Moving as silently as possible, Jillian slid out of bed and made her way to the door. She opened it just enough to slip through, then closed it behind her.

  Hawk was in the kitchen, his dark hair damp from a recent washing. She put a hand to her tousled auburn hair and wished she’d taken the time to find the brush she’d purchased for Lizzy.

  “Good morning,” she greeted him as she came into the kitchen. “I hope you didn’t shower with that wounded shoulder.”

  Hawk glanced at her, his blue eyes intense. “Morning. And no, I didn’t. Are you hungry? I was about to make eggs but wasn’t sure how you and Lizzy preferred to have them cooked.”

  She was surprised he didn’t remember she liked her eggs over easy while he always made his own sunny-side up. “Lizzy likes them scrambled.”

  “And you?”

  “Over easy.” She crossed over to the coffeepot and filled
a mug. He pushed the carton of milk toward her and then opened the cupboard to pull down a small container of sugar.

  “Thanks.” She added the milk and sugar to her coffee and then took a seat at the table, putting distance between them.

  The urge to walk into his arms and greet him with a good-morning kiss was strong. She had to remind herself that they weren’t living together like husband and wife but as two people hiding from gunmen.

  “Did you sleep okay last night?” It was an inane question to break the silence.

  “Caught a few hours on the sofa.” He broke two eggs in a bowl and whisked them with milk. “Pored over everything I could find online about Barton but still came up empty-handed.”

  She sipped her coffee, secretly doubting the clarity around Hawk’s memory of seeing Barton in the Afghan mountains. The soldier in the photo was clearly not the senator, and she doubted that someone like Barton would be involved in selling American guns to the enemy.

  “Mommy? I hav’ta go to the bathroom.”

  “Coming.” Jillian put her coffee aside and went over to help her daughter get out of her footie pajamas. She took advantage of the opportunity to shower and to wash Lizzy up, too. When they were finished in the bathroom, Lizzy demanded to wear her Christmas outfit.

  “Are you hungry?” Jillian tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear. “Mr. Hawk is making scrambled eggs for breakfast.”

  “Yum.” Lizzy skipped as they entered the kitchen. “Did you add cheese?”

  Hawk looked crestfallen at the plain eggs. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any cheese.”

  “That’s okay. Lizzy likes scrambled eggs even without cheese,” Jillian quickly interjected.

  “Cheese makes them taste better,” Lizzy pointed out.

  “Next time.” Hawk set the plate of scrambled eggs in front of their daughter and then a second plate with two eggs over easy in front of her.

  Jillian waited until he joined them with his own eggs, also over easy. She put out a hand, inviting him to take it, at the same time reaching for Lizzy’s. “Shall we pray?”