by Karen Anders
Derrick laughed. They had just recently been down to the pond to fish, something Israr loved. After being in an arid country, Israr was thrilled to be this close to not only the pond, but the ocean. His brother Emad loved to watch the surfers. Austin had promised him lessons and that kid was over the moon.
He and Israr were feeling their way through this new relationship, as it had only been two weeks since they had to flee Afghanistan. They went through the gate that led to the main property and stopped at the barn to put away their fishing poles and tackle. The string of catfish needed cleaning, as well.
Afsana and Raffi had been grateful and generous in allowing Derrick to visit often, not only to see how they were doing, but to start getting to know his son. Both Israr’s parents had been open to the idea, understanding that it was both Israr’s and Derrick’s right to take this step.
Of course, the boy was only nine and his understanding about grown-up situations was limited; the strife of war and unrest had already touched him. But here Derrick was certain he and his family could live out their lives in safety and peace.
He set the fish on the board to fillet them. Rolling up his sleeves, he thoroughly cleaned the area and reached for a knife while Israr stood next to him.
“So, other than goats, how do you feel about going to school here?” He started cutting the catfish, one after the other.
He shrugged. “I went to school in Afghanistan. Not so hard.”
Israr and Emad both spoke very good English. Afsana had taught them herself, making sure her sons were fluent. Maybe it had always been in the back of her mind that she would have to leave someday. He wasn’t sure.
“I don’t want this to be uncomfortable between us, Israr. You can ask me questions and I’ll try my best to answer them.”
“Mother said this is painful for you and I shouldn’t be too intrusive.”
He finished the last of the fish and went to the small sink and washed his hands. Drying them, he turned to Israr. “It is painful for me. How much has your mother told you about the situation?”
“Only that you and she were close but that she loved me and wanted me.”
Derrick leaned back, his heart contracting. “I worked for the government. That’s all I can tell you about that. What I did was secret.”
Israr nodded. “I know.” His dark eyes met Derrick’s. “Did you want me?” The tentativeness in Israr’s voice made Derrick’s heart contract even more.
Derrick took a breath, all the remembered pain from his childhood echoed in Israr’s voice. “Yeah.” Impulsively, he dragged the kid against him and wrapped his arms around him. It felt so good to hold him. “I wanted you. But the circumstances were dangerous.” His arms tightened as he cupped the boy’s head. “Your mom and I, we were in love. I was reckless and should have been more careful. I couldn’t be there when you were born or acknowledge you because of that danger. Do you understand?” He released Israr, but gently held him by his upper arms, crouching slightly so he could look him in the face. His voice uneven, he clenched his jaw. “It’s important that you know I wanted to be part of your life, but I couldn’t.”
For a moment Israr searched Derrick’s eyes, his young face pinched, moisture glistening in his blue depths. Then his face cleared and he said, his voice stronger. “I understand. We can be together now. Know each other.”
“Yes, that is a promise. We’ll be friends since you already have a mom and a dad. I’ll be here as much as you want. It’s up to you.”
“I want that, Derrick. Would it be okay if I call you Mal?”
“That’s friend in Pashto.”
Israr nodded. “Yes, but to me, it means more. ‘Derrick’ seems too formal.”
“Mal it is, then.”
Derrick straightened. “Let’s get these fish into the house.”
With a smile, Israr grabbed the cooler and Derrick slipped his arm across the boy’s shoulders.
* * *
Later, after the celebration dinner, Derrick found Emma standing on the edge of the property looking up at the night sky. “Hey, what are you doing out here?”
“Taking in the scenery and enjoying the night.”
There was a burst of laughter from the house and Emma gave him a soft smile. “They are settling in very well.”
He nodded as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her back to his chest. Burying his face into her hair, he breathed in her unique scent.
“How do you feel about all this? Afsana and I were in love and now I’m helping to support her family with the son we made together, both boys now a part of my life.”
She turned in his arms and cupped his face. “I think that it’s wonderful that you’ve gotten the opportunity to know him. It’s tragic what happened, and it’s going to be a transition for them to get acclimated to the States, but I’m fully with you on this. I want you to be happy, and I know that our love is strong and true. What we have isn’t diminished by what you and she had.”
He kissed her softly, her warm lips responsive. “You are amazing,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “Thank you for understanding how much this means to me.” Derrick looked at Emma and tightened his arms around her. “I’m totally all right with it. He’s close and they’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
She nodded. “I love you, Derrick.”
Now seemed like the right time. He was going to take her to a fancy restaurant to do this but after the crisis with Afsana, he just didn’t see the need to be anything but honest.
He cupped her face and said, “I love you, too. Will you marry me?”
She gasped when she saw the ring box he pulled out of his pocket.
“Derrick...” She threw her arms around his neck, her shoulders shaking.
He cupped her head, his heart rolling over. “Don’t cry, babe. This was supposed to make you happy.”
She released him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I am happy. These are happy tears, you beautiful man.” She kissed him on the mouth, the salt of her joy mingling in with the sweetness of her kiss.
Contentment flowed over him as he slipped the ring on her finger. His life had changed so much in such a short time. He now had everything he’d ever wanted: his son, a job that challenged and fulfilled him with an awesome team, and the woman of his dreams agreeing to be his for the rest of his life.
No more shadows; no more hiding and no more pain. It was pushed out by the bliss filling his chest as much as Emma filled his arms.
* * *
A month later, they were married on Tucked Away Cay with their family and friends all around them.
Afsana sought him out as he was watching Lily and Emma play in the surf with Matty during the reception.
“Thank you for saving us.”
“Of course. I meant it when I said you could depend on me.”
She nodded, looking pensive. “I loved you so much, Derrick. I would have been willing to do anything. But saving so many lives—there was really no choice.”
“I know. You have been such an amazing asset. And I loved you so very much.”
She linked her arm with his. “But now we’re content. Are we not?”
“We are.”
“I can see that you love her as much as I love my Raffi.” She looked at him, her face serious. “Now that there are no constraints, you can get to know your son.”
“I can.” Derrick smiled, feeling as if the last thing he’d been missing in his life had clicked into place. He looked out to where the two boys were laughing, helping their father grill hamburgers and hot dogs.
“He wants to get to know you,” she said softly.
“That means everything. He wants to call me Mal.” Derrick’s heart tightened. To get this chance to nurture this relationship with his son, to get
to know him—he was overcome for a moment.
* * *
Later on that night, after everyone had left the island for the mainland, Emma snuggled up to him. “Are you sure you don’t have a white horse stashed away somewhere?”
“Yeah, I confess, I’ve got it in the same place with all the shiny armor. Now, stop talking, Mrs. Gunn, and kiss me, or this knight will perish from the loneliness.”
“Oh, you’ll never be lonely again,” she whispered and kissed him.
She was right; he’d found the life he’d always wanted, with the warmth of friends and family and the love of his life. He wasn’t alone anymore, no longer a lost boy. He’d discovered himself in Emma’s arms and they would keep each other safe for the rest of their lives.
* * * * *
If you loved this story, don’t miss the other
thrilling romances in Karen Anders’s
TO PROTECT AND SERVE miniseries:
HER ALPHA MARINE
A SEAL TO SAVE HER
HER MASTER DEFENDER
JOINT ENGAGEMENT
DESIGNATED TARGET
AT HIS COMMAND
All available now from
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Gone in the Night
by Anna J. Stewart
Chapter 1
Dr. Allie Hollister rounded the circular drive of the Vandermont home and parked behind two patrol cars. This part of El Dorado Hills might be considered one of the more affluent areas of the Sacramento Valley with its mini mansions, lake views and lush acreage, but at six in the morning, the winding roads and sporadic street lamps did not make for a relaxing drive.
It didn’t help that she was suffering the aftereffects of a champagne-heavy dinner at her foster siblings’ new restaurant last night. No doubt she’d used alcohol to compensate for the fact Eden and Simone, her two best friends, hadn’t been able to come with her. Not even two cups of coffee and a painkiller put a dent in the pounding in her skull.
“Dr. Hollister.” A fifty-something uniformed deputy with wary “I’ve seen everything” eyes and a too-tight lip line strode down the paved walkway and offered his hand once she’d climbed out of her mini-SUV. “I’m Deputy Sutherland. I appreciate you coming out. When Mr. and Mrs. Vandermont weren’t able to immediately get in touch with Hope Kellan’s parents or uncle, they insisted we call you. Not the end to their daughter’s sleepover they were expecting, I’m sure.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Between her suddenly attentive mother and finding herself embroiled in the opening of the cold case concerning her best friend’s murderer twenty years after Chloe’s death, it wasn’t as if Allie slept much these days. Right on cue, her cell phone chimed. Allie glanced at another text message. Obviously she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. Compared with yet another update on her parents’ upcoming anniversary celebration—how many reminders did she need to bring potato salad?—suddenly making the trip up to the foothills didn’t seem so bad. Not that Allie was thrilled one of her most challenging patients—nine-year-old Hope Kellan—had started what Allie had planned as a quiet Sunday at home with a jarring bang. “I’m just sorry Hope’s recent proclivity to running off had to take this turn. Shall we?” She pocketed her phone, hugged her arms around her torso and wished she’d worn more than a thin sweater over her pastel-pink pedal pushers and matching tank. Her mind was all over the place these days; she couldn’t seem to concentrate to save her soul. As someone who prided herself on keeping an eye on every aspect of her life, she was not coping as well as she’d like.
She aimed her gaze at the oversize glass-and-wood front door, quickly determining that her entire house would probably fit in the tiled atrium. She knew of the Vandermonts in passing; Matthew Vandermont was a big-time lobbyist while his wife was one of the top real estate agents in the region. She also knew they’d both come from very humble beginnings, which explained their dedication to providing the numerous scholarships at various private schools, including their daughter’s.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vandermont are with their daughter and her friends in the sitting room. Just there, off to the right,” Deputy Sutherland said. “My men are still trying to get a feel for the property. It’s more extensive than we expected, but we should be able to get an organized search underway soon.”
“How extensive exactly?” Allie stopped just outside the doorway to get her bearings. The home was elegant but with homey touches, family mementos, framed certificates of achievement, and photographs from vacations, events and gatherings that included not only the Vandermonts but their daughter’s friends, as well. Warm, Allie thought. Welcoming.
“There’s at least four acres of wilderness leading down to Folsom Lake,” the deputy explained. “And I do mean down. No fence line to speak of and the property lines are a bit skewed given recent construction projects. No telling what direction the girl might have gone in. I was about to call in reinforcements and have them bring up the search dogs to help.”
“Hope,” Allie said as diplomatically as possible. “The girl’s name is Hope and you’re right. More officers can’t hurt.” Self-doubt crept in around Allie’s practiced interaction with law enforcement. Had she misjudged Hope’s recent excitement about this long-awaited sleepover with her three best friends? Or had Allie been so distracted during their last session that she’d missed warning signs the little girl planned to run away? While Hope had become increasingly withdrawn in the months since her parents’ contentious separation had turned into a vicious custody battle, her spirits had lifted considerably with the arrival of her uncle Max. Other than her three best friends, talking about her hero firefighter uncle was the one thing guaranteed to bring a smile to her freckled face. “I’m sure your team will find her safe and sound,” Allie replied in an encouraging tone. “Hope is a smart girl. If she got lost, she’ll know enough to stay put until someone finds her.”
“At least we aren’t having to deal with harsh weather,” Deputy Sutherland agreed. “I’ll go make the call. You all right with them?”
Allie peered into the sitting room that glimmered in the same glitz and glamour as the outside façade. “I’ll be fine, thanks. Mr. and Mrs. Vandermont.” Allie set her bag on the floor by the door. The sitting room was decked out in hues of gold and white. The lush carpeting, glass coffee table, enormous Frenc
h glass doors leading to a backyard with a pool and that large expanse of land reminded Allie of the house Simone, one of her own best friends, had grown up in. Sophisticated, rich. Isolated. But again, where Simone’s house had all been for show with nary a hint of emotional attachment, here she saw a celebration of family. As detached and remote as Simone’s parents had been, the Vandermonts exuded concern and warmth as Allie approached them. “Thank you for calling me. I can only imagine how worried you must be.”
The last words nearly froze in Allie’s throat as she focused on the three girls sitting between the handsome couple. She’d seen photographs of the girls, of course. Mercy, Portia and the Vandermonts’ daughter, Willa. Hope talked about them incessantly during their sessions, something Allie herself could relate to given her own relationships with her two best friends. But seeing the three of them here, together, without Hope...
She had to remind herself to breathe.
“Hello, girls.” Allie didn’t recognize her own voice as she rounded the table to crouch in front of them. Willa, all thick blond hair and debutante blue eyes, clung to her mother in a way that made Allie question who was comforting whom. Mercy, a strawberry blonde, conveyed a familiar edgy defiance that Allie could see masked a good amount of fear. And then there was Portia. Allie blinked as she took in the girl’s slight frame, pale complexion and a pixie cap of dark, dark hair. Allie touched the edge of her own cropped cut. Unease bubbled inside her. “I’m Dr. Hollister, but you can call me Allie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“We know who you are,” Mercy told her as Mr. Vandermont tightened his hold on a trembling Portia. “Hope talks about you a lot. She likes you.”
“I like her, too.” Allie couldn’t shake her apprehension. Having the three of them look at her as if she held all the answers had her relying on her years of education and training as a psychologist. That was hard enough. But, together, they also reminded her of one of the worst days of her life.