The thing was, he could understand her need to do, the compelling drive to take action, but for him it mirrored his need to protect her, to right a past failure. He hesitated, not wanting to dig up the past but also unable to avoid it. He had to make Chelsea understand his reasons for keeping her safe, his need to bring Brady down. “I never told you how my mom died.”
Chelsea blinked, her posture softening. “No.”
Jake dragged a chair out from the kitchen table and sat in it heavily. In his peripheral vision, he saw Darynda ease out of the room, giving them privacy for their heart-to-heart. “The summer after my junior year of high school our church took a group, including my mom, down to Mexico to build houses. My dad stayed home because he couldn’t leave the ranch unattended that long, and my sister Michelle was away, working a summer camp. I was supposed to go with my mom but backed out.”
Her hands bunched in her lap. “Why?”
Jake’s gut rolled remembering his youthful selfishness. “I had a new girlfriend. I wanted to spend time with her, not build houses in the Mexican heat.”
She reached for his hand. “Jake—”
“The bus they were on, going to the work site their first day, was attacked by a militant gang involved in the drug wars down there,” he said, his tone as flat and empty as the hole the memory left inside him. “They sprayed the bus with machine-gun fire, and six members of our church died. Five were sent to the hospital. My mom was one of the dead.”
“Oh, Jake...” she whispered.
“If I’d gone like I was supposed to—”
“Stop right there.” She squeezed his fingers hard, her tone firm. “Do not blame yourself for what happened.”
“I could have shielded her or protected her somehow.” He clenched his back teeth until his jaw ached.
“Or you could have been killed along with the others!” Chelsea sighed raggedly. “Have you been harboring guilt over this all these years?”
“Shouldn’t I? I was a selfish prick, more concerned with being with my girlfriend than building houses for the needy or protecting my mother in a violent country.” Turbulent emotions gripped his throat and raised his volume. “She went down there to do good. And evil people took her from us!”
“Exactly,” Chelsea said, her eyes bright and her fingers digging into his. “Evil people killed her. Not you. There will always be evil people in the wor—” She stopped abruptly and sat back in her chair. She drew a trembling breath. “Oh, my God. That’s why you do what you do, isn’t it? You’ve built your whole life from that point around fighting the bad guys of the world.”
He said nothing. Stared at the floor. His whole body shook with bottled-up energy and emotion. “I have to, Chels. Evil defeated good that day, but I cannot, I will never, sit on the sidelines and let the bad guys win, ever again.”
Chelsea swiped a tear off her cheek and leaned toward him again. “Never’s a long time, Jake. Isn’t it time you stop beating yourself up? You had no responsibility for or control over what happened to your mom.”
“I let her down.”
Chelsea sighed sadly. “Jake...”
He furrowed his brow. “She taught us to be doers. To be involved in changing the world.”
“Gandhi’s be the change...” Chelsea whispered, “I remember you said it was her mantra.”
“And I sat out the mission trip.” He clenched his teeth, his fists, still furious with his stupid choice. “I failed her on so many levels.”
“She’d be proud of what you’ve done with your life since then. You have to believe that.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then flattened both palms on the table as he leaned toward her. “Chels, I’ve never told anyone about this before. My family knows the history, of course, and probably guessed at what I was feeling, but...” He shook his head. “The point is, I wanted you to understand why I can’t let you put yourself at risk.”
“Thank you—” she pitched her voice to an intimate whisper “—for trusting me enough to share your soul with me like this. It means a lot to me.”
He nodded and met her damp eyes with a quick half smile, believing the matter was settled.
“Now trust me enough to help you catch Brady.”
Jake dropped his chin to his chest with a groan. “Chelsea...”
“I promise not to take unnecessary chances,” she pressed. “I can be your backup or a lookout or something. But...I can’t sit on the sidelines either. Brady took something from me when he attacked me.”
He glanced up at her with a frown.
“I let my fear rule me last time, Jake. I can’t let fear win. It’s every bit as insidious as evil. Maybe more so.”
Jake pulled his hands from hers and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to be insane to even consider taking her and putting her in harm’s way. But he heard himself say, “You can go. On one condition...”
* * *
An hour later, after making an exhaustive and unproductive search for Darynda’s cell phone charger and warming themselves with a cup of hot chocolate, Jake shifted his attention to the next phase of his plan. “Can we borrow a few items from you?”
She nodded. “Of course. Like what?”
“Well, most important would be a gun. A handgun preferably, but I’ll take a rifle or shotgun if that’s all you have.”
Darynda glanced uneasily to her children, then back to Jake. She leaned close to him and pitched her voice to a whisper. “I have a .38 in my bedroom closet. Hank wanted me to have it for home protection while he was gone.”
“Will you get it for me?” He matched her whisper in deference to the young ears she seemed concerned about. “Along with extra ammo, binoculars...” He rattled off a list of items, and Darynda nodded.
“I’ll distract the kids while you gather up that stuff.” Chelsea held her hands out to take the baby from Darynda.
The young mother smiled her thanks and passed over the wide-eyed tot. Chelsea grinned at the baby and rubbed her back when the infant whimpered.
Watching Chelsea with the baby, Jake felt a hitch in his chest. She looked so natural with a child in her arms, so at ease...so happy. She would make a great mother one day. With all the love she had to give, her patience and compassion, how could she not?
“Gabby, why don’t you show Miss Chelsea your dolls?” Darynda said to her older daughter. “I think it’s time for their tea party.”
“Yea!” the little girl chirped as she skipped into the living room. “In here, Chessie!”
After Chelsea disappeared into the next room, Jake followed Darynda down the hall to the master bedroom, where she pulled a locked box out of the closet. “Hank cleaned it before he left, but that was a few months ago. It hasn’t been fired since then.”
She unlocked the storage case, and he examined the weapon. “It’s in great shape. Thanks.” He stashed the gun in the waist of his jeans and put the box of rounds she handed him in his coat pocket. After she’d rounded up what she could of the other items he’d requested, he packed them in the small pink child’s backpack she’d loaned him, and they headed back to the kitchen.
“Keep your door locked, and until you hear otherwise from me or Chelsea, don’t open your door for anyone who can’t show a valid law enforcement badge. Got it?” he said as he tugged the backpack onto one shoulder.
“Of course.” Darynda put a hand on his coat sleeve. “Be careful. Take care of Chelsea.”
He nodded and stepped into the living room, where Chelsea, seated at a tiny table with Sadie, a stuffed penguin, a blonde doll and a Raggedy Ann, pretended to sip from a toy cup.
“Mahvelous tea, dear. Simply mahvelous,” she intoned with a snooty air, and Gabby giggled.
“Mahvelous!” the little girl echoed, striking a pose and flouncing her hair.
Jake cleared his throat. “Madam, if you are finished with your tea, your coach is ready to leave.”
Chelsea turned to Gabby and fluttered her fingers. “I
must be off. Thank you for babysitting Sadie and Nela, Lady Gabrielle. We simply must do this again, dahling.”
After a final round of goodbyes and thank-yous, Jake took his cowboy hat off the table and escorted Chelsea out to the horses.
He gave her a hard look as he helped her into her saddle. “It’s not too late for you to change your mind and stay here.”
She twisted her mouth and raised an eyebrow. “I’m going with you.”
Jake pressed his mouth in a tight line of frustration as he jammed his hat on his head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re stubborn and a little crazy?”
“Two of my best traits, I’d say,” she quipped, and glanced behind him. “Nice backpack, Spy Guy. I like the pink.”
He rolled his eyes and swung up on his horse. Without Mr. Noble’s pets on board, they set a faster pace going to Chelsea’s house. The hum of adrenaline and pre-mission energy flowed through Jake, sharpening his senses. He’d only get one shot at taking Brady by surprise. He had to get everything right the first time.
“Give me the layout of your house.” He reined in his horse so they could ride side by side and talk. “For starters, is there an alarm system with battery backup?”
Chelsea snorted and shot him a wry look. “Alarm system? Crime’s not a problem out here in the boonies. Why, my dad will tell you, in the thirty-five years my folks have lived in that house, they’ve never had a minute’s trouble with burglars or intruders.”
Arching one eyebrow, he sent her an incredulous look. “Irony, anyone?”
She hummed her agreement. “What do you bet, when my dad gets home and hears about Brady, they have an alarm system installed within twenty-four hours? Nothing like closing the barn door after the cow escaped, huh?”
Jake grinned briefly, then focused again on business. “All right. No alarm system actually works to our advantage at this point. No chance I’ll accidentally set it off and alert Brady.” He furrowed his brow as he thought. “Which rooms have windows facing which direction? Where are the rooms in relation to each other? Is there a basement? An attic? How many doors and where? Do the windows open or are they sealed off by storm glass?”
“Wow. Where to start?” She flashed him a grin, then sobered as she ticked off information. “Basement, check. Unfinished. Small ground-level windows with burglar bars, his one concession to security. Attic, check. The access is in the main hall.”
“Brady is most likely in the living room or kitchen this time of day. Which side of the house are they on? We need to approach from the direction he’s least likely to look out a window and see us coming.”
Chelsea scrunched her nose as she thought, then glanced around as if orienting herself directionally. “Living room windows face east. Kitchen window looks west. It gets the afternoon sun. The blindest side would be the north end where the carport is. There’s a small window in the carport door, but it opens into a mudroom next to the kitchen.”
“All right, then.” Jake tugged the brim of his hat down as an icy breeze swirled around them. “We’ll swing wide to the north and approach from the carport side. Is there a landmark you can wait behind, out of sight, until I signal the all clear?”
She shot him a disgruntled look and opened her mouth.
“Don’t even start.” He cut her off. “Our deal was that you wait for me to subdue Brady if he’s there, make sure the coast is clear before you go anywhere near the house.”
“Jake—”
He aimed a finger at her. “I will hog-tie you and cart you back to Darynda’s if you don’t cooperate.”
She cocked her head and arched a haughty eyebrow. “Wow, Jake, how very Fifty Shades of you.”
An image of Chelsea, naked and his willing partner in sexual play, flashed in his mind before he could stop it, and a hum of desire zinged through him. Clearing his throat and shoving the image away, he drilled a hard look on her. “I will. Don’t test me.”
She heaved an irritated sigh. “I was going to say, there are a couple of scrubby trees at the back corner of our property. Ordinarily they wouldn’t hide much, but maybe enough snow clung to the branches or piled up in drifts around them that I’d be hidden. Also, my dad has a toolshed on that side of the house, about one hundred yards from the carport.”
“We’ll go with the trees for now.” He scanned the terrain. “How much farther?”
“Just over this rise.” Chelsea plowed ahead, her horse breathing heavily as it churned through the snow. They reached the top of a small hill that overlooked her parents’ property, and several of their questions were answered. Jake’s truck sat parked near the front door under a blanket of snow, the windows were dark, and a thin column of smoke trailed up from the chimney.
A thread of relief wound through Jake at knowing he would recover his truck. “Looks like Brady is there, and the power is still out.”
Chelsea scowled and shook her head. “It galls me to think of him living in my parents’ home. Touching our things and eating our food. I’m going to have to disinfect the whole house before I’ll get the image of his—” she pulled a disgusted face as she fumbled for a word “—cooties all over the furniture.”
Jake chuckled. “Cooties?”
“It might not be a scientific word, but you know what I mean! He’s defiling our house with his evil ectoplasm, his bad karma, his—”
“Forensic evidence.” He shot her a stern glance. “Don’t wash, vacuum or sweep anything until the police have collected all the evidence they need.”
She gave a dramatic shudder, then glanced at him and nodded. “Fine, his cooties can stay until the police are done.”
“Come on.” He gave his horse a little kick with his heels and rode in a wide arc to the north before heading toward the house. He stopped behind the cluster of scrubby trees, the thick layer of snow adding to the protective cover.
Chelsea rode up beside him and eyed her house with longing. “So close and yet so far...” she muttered wistfully.
“This is your stop until I give you the all clear. Got it?” He waited until she turned to face him, then drilled her with an all-business stare. “You wait here. If I don’t signal you within ten minutes, ride to the next neighbor down the road, then the next, until you find a working phone. Stay there with the doors locked until the police come and you’re certain Brady is in custody. Got it?”
She dented her brow and twitched a quick pout of discontent. “I understand.”
His gaze zeroed in on her full lips. She’d applied a thin layer of lip balm before they headed out from Darynda’s, and her mouth looked especially tempting. Dewy and soft, shimmering and sexy. He swallowed hard, shoving the distraction aside in his mind, and he jerked a nod. “Good.”
“Jake...” Her eyes softened and concern crept over her face. “Be careful. Please. If it looks too dangerous—”
“Hey...” He reached for her, cupping the back of her head with his gloved hand. “Danger is what I do. I eat danger for breakfast and spit out the bones.” Knowing she cared enough about him to fret over his safety touched him. The worry shadowing her eyes burrowed to his core and warmed his soul. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
She didn’t look convinced, but time was wasting. The sooner he captured Brady and turned him over to the cops, the sooner he could get to the hospital in Amarillo and see his dad.
As Jake snapped his reins and started toward the house, the concern clouding Chelsea’s gaze stayed with him. All the impulses and desires he’d been denying and suppressing for the past two days surged up in him and grabbed him by the heart. He yanked back on his reins, stopping his horse and stared at the snowy ground, debating.
With a sigh of inevitability, his pulse thumping with resolve and confidence in his decision, he turned around and rode back to her.
Questions filled her eyes as he guided his horse alongside hers. Pulling off his gloves and nudging his cowboy hat back from his face, he moved in so close that his leg brushed her horse’s flank, his knee bumped hers.
“Jake, what is it?”
“Just this.” He slid the knit cap off her head so he could run his fingers through her thick silky hair. Then burying his hand in the thick tresses, he cradled the back of her head and pulled her close. Leaned in. Captured her lips.
The startled hitch in her breath only fueled his hunger. He graduated quickly from a polite brushing of lips to a passionate tangling of mouths and tongues. With one hand, Chelsea grabbed the front of his coat while her other hand braced on his thigh for balance as they canted toward each other from their saddles.
Jake molded her lips and angled his mouth, filling himself with her sweet essence. The warmth and gentle suction of her kiss was even better than he’d imagined, and he had to hold himself back to avoid bruising her in his fervor.
A soft moan of pleasure vibrated in her throat and sent an answering tremor through his body. His fingers curled against her scalp, and he angled his head to deepen the kiss. She tasted like hot chocolate and warm woman, and he wanted to continue kissing her in the foreseeable future. He wanted to hold her body against his and imprint her memory in his brain for the long lonely nights he spent while on missions. He wanted the right to kiss her every day, but he knew this moment might be all he’d ever get. If he captured Brady and turned him over to the police as planned, he could be on his way to Amarillo in the next couple of hours. Which made the kiss all the more bittersweet.
When he ended the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. As they panted for a breath, a frosty cloud formed between them, swirling and dancing in the cold air before dissipating into the stillness around them.
“What was that?” she whispered after a moment.
He stroked her cold cheek with the back of his fingers and lifted one corner of his mouth. “What do you think it was?”
She pulled back to meet his gaze, touching his jaw with a gloved hand. Her eyes were sad. “It felt like goodbye.”
He shook his head. “No, not goodbye. I just seized the opportunity to do what I’ve wanted to do for most of the last two days.”
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