Sarah's Secrets

by Lisa Childs

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  God, she was smart. And already she knew him too well. “Where’s the deputy?”

  “He got the generator started.”

  “Is he alone with Jeremy now?”

  She shivered, clasping her arms to the shoulders of the heavy sweater she wore over a pair of slim-fitting khakis. He missed the nightgown. “No. Even though I told him everything was fine, I made Jeremy keep the barricade against his bedroom door. And I set the alarm before I came out here.”

  “You should be inside, too, Sarah.”

  “Why? Is it too dangerous?” Her chin tipped up with the challenge.

  He shook his head at her stubborn pride. “Yes. It’s too damned dangerous in Winter Falls.”

  “So you want me to come back to Milwaukee with you? To see a man I’ve never met? It’s still all about him. About your quest. About what you want!”

  He deserved the lash of her temper, accepted it as he slid his fingers over the linen-wrapped handle of the old pocketknife. “He’s dying, Sarah. I need you to do this. For him? Yes. For me? Hell, yes. But most of all, I think for yourself. And for Jeremy.”

  “You’re admitting you’re the cause of these threats?”

  He shrugged, but the knife burned inside his pocket. “I don’t know. But I can keep you safer in Milwaukee than I can here.” He didn’t like how close his words were to a promise.

  “The deputy was here tonight.” So I don’t need you. She had too many manners to say it, but he read the words in the smoky depths of her gray eyes.

  He exhaled a long breath. “Yes, he was…”

  “What are you implying?”

  He shrugged again, sensing the gesture irritated her. He liked irritating her.

  “You don’t trust him?”

  He shook his head, his neck cracking with the action. “No, I don’t. And neither should you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Earlier today…” He glanced up at the lightening sky. “Yesterday. Someone paid that kid to slash my tires.”

  Her smoky eyes widened. “So you think someone paid Deputy Jones? To do what? Distract you?”

  If they had, it had worked too damned well. He cursed himself for losing the kidnapper. He’d been so close.

  “I don’t have all the answers, Sarah. But I know where we can find some.”

  Her eyes glittered in the first light of dawn, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Come home with me, Sarah.”

  THE LEATHER creaked behind her back as Sarah settled into the desk chair. Her hands trembled against the polished mahogany surface. Dare she even consider it?

  She leaned forward, folding her arms onto the desk and dropping her head atop them as exhaustion claimed her. She’d draped her sweater over the back of the chair, so the silk of her blouse whispered against her chin. Soft, not like his touch. Nothing like the rough glide of his fingertips across her skin, around her wrist. And her arms held none of the strength of his. He’d touched her more in a day than her late husband ever had.

  A sigh swelled in her chest, but she held it inside. If she let it out, it would end on a sob. Although not in love with him, she’d loved Robert Hutchins, as she’d loved Jeremy’s father, as she’d loved her parents, her brother…but yet she’d buried them all. Despite her love and her nursing skills, she hadn’t been able to save anyone she’d cared about.

  Someone was threatening her son. Could she save him? She didn’t trust her ability.

  If she traveled with Royce to Milwaukee to see this dying friend of his, could she trust him to protect Jeremy? Even after he realized she was not the woman his friend wanted to see?

  On the beach moments ago, she’d hurt for the anguish in his eyes. For his desperation. He loved this dying man…as she loved her son.

  She stroked the silk sleeve along her cheek. But what if he wanted more than this visit to a dying man’s bedside? Earlier she’d caught the way his gaze had traveled over her nightgown-clad body. She’d heard the hoarseness in his voice.

  Heat pooled in her stomach. But then she remembered his earlier assumptions about her, the same ones most people made. He didn’t respect her.

  The ringing of the phone didn’t startle her this time. Wearily she reached for the receiver, knocking it from the cradle. “Hello?”

  “Sarah?” The sheriff’s gruff voice jerked her from her wild thoughts.

  “Dylan?”

  “Sarah? Everything all right?”

  She closed her eyes as the terror of last night washed over her. Her fear for her son’s safety tightened her chest, stealing her breath. “For the moment. Is Lindsey okay?”

  “Fine, but the doctors are keeping a close eye on her because her blood pressure keeps going up.”

  Another voice rose from the background, Evan adding, “Because she hates anyone telling her what to do.”

  Sarah managed a brief laugh. “Evan’s okay, too?”

  “Yeah, he worked on some contract all night in the waiting room. Sarah, it’s crazy to worry about ransom money. Nothing’s going to happen to Jeremy.”

  “I know.” She uttered the lie with such weariness, he’d have no doubt she didn’t believe it herself. At the moment, she knew nothing for certain. “So you have Jones watching the house.”

  “I didn’t know if you’d let Royce stay. There’s some tension between the two of you. So Jones was the best I could do, but I’d rather be there myself.”

  “You need to stay with Lindsey, Dylan. I understand. But thanks for sending Deputy Jones.”

  He chuckled. “He called me about his scuffle with Royce. I’m glad Royce did stick around. And it’s good to know private practice hasn’t dulled the Tracker’s reflexes.”

  “What about his instincts?” she found herself asking.

  Dylan whistled. “Since I worked with him before, I know more than most. You damned well better listen to his instincts. There’s a reason that they’re legendary.”

  She shivered. “You act like he’s psychic or something.”

  He chuckled. “You better say the ‘or something’ if you bring it up to Royce. The psychic talk makes him mad. The press and his superiors at the FBI have speculated about it. Whatever it is, it works for him. And for those Royce has helped. He’s a good man, Sarah.”

  She considered telling him Royce’s real purpose for coming to Winter Falls but swallowed hard. Would her friends think her selfish for waiting this long to grant a dying man’s request? Sarah had been selfish before and lonely because of it. She didn’t want to be alone again.

  “So you trust him, Dylan? I mean, really trust him?”

  Without hesitation he replied, “With my life.”

  She shivered. “But what about Jeremy’s?” She’d asked her question too late. Dylan must have lost his signal. He was gone.

  “So what’s the verdict?”

  She jumped, the chair screeching back on one wheel. “I thought you were still outside.”

  He wedged a wide shoulder against the jamb of the den’s French doors. “I’m done out there.” He ran a hand over wet, dark-blond tendrils.

  “You took a swim? The water’s freezing.” But sexiness exuded from him with the droplets sliding down his neck from his too-long hair.

  He chuckled. “I’m no masochist. I just jumped out of the shower. Thought I’d take advantage of the generator running. Hope you don’t mind.”

  An image of water sluicing over hard muscles flashed behind her eyes. She bit her lip.

  “It’s all right. Everything’s secure now. If they came by water, they left that way. They’re gone…for now.”

  “Are you trying to reassure me or threaten me?” So much about him threatened her.

  He shoved off from the jamb and strode across the den. He’d changed into a white polo shirt which emphasized his tanned skin. His last assignment, before his friend’s illness had brought him to Milwaukee, had been in a warmer climate than the area around the Great
Lakes. She couldn’t remember the name of the country where he’d rescued the businessman.

  Faded jeans hugged his long legs and lean hips. He skirted around the desk and perched on a corner of the mahogany surface within touching distance. “I’m not threatening you, Sarah. I want to take you to Milwaukee, to Bart. I need to do this!”

  Her heart shimmied. She swallowed hard, then asked the question that had burned in her mind. “You say as much for me and Jeremy as for this man. Why?”

  He raised his arm across the couple of feet separating them. While his rough fingertips traced the line of her jaw, she held her breath.

  “I want to keep you safe, Sarah. You and Jeremy. I can do that in Milwaukee.” Something flickered in those pale-brown eyes.

  “But what if I’m not the person he asked you to find? What then?”

  “You think I’d desert you and Jeremy to continue my search for another Sarah Mars?”

  She nodded, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. “I can tell you care a lot about this man.”

  His skin paled. “Yeah, I do, but I’ve never been able to turn my back on a kid in need.” He didn’t seem proud or pleased by the admission.

  “So that’s all you want…for me to visit this Bart? And you’ll protect my son?” With the power of his legend behind him, she appeared to have the better end of the deal. If that were all there was to it. But she’d learned that people seldom harbored altruistic motives. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  He slid closer, so his thigh brushed the sleeve of her blouse. His heat penetrated through the thin silk. “What do you think I want, Sarah? This?”

  His head dipped toward hers as his fingers tipped her chin up. Firm lips met hers with gentle pressure, gliding over her mouth.

  Her heart jumped, and she gasped. His tongue slipped through her parted lips, stroking the inside curve of them. Butterscotch sweetened the intense flavor of passion. A moan burned in her throat.

  She reached out, in her head, to push him away, in her heart, to pull him closer. Her fingers delved into the wet tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck, and she dove into his kiss.

  The tip of his tongue touched hers. What would he taste? Not the sweetness of candy but the crisp bite of her mint toothpaste. She slid her tongue along the length of his.

  A groan bubbled from his throat to hers, and the gentleness fled from his kiss. His lips pressed, his teeth nipped, his tongue stroked to a frenzy of need. But, shaking slightly, his fingers only stroked along the curve of her jaw.

  A shudder rippled along her spine, and her trembling rattled the chair. Through a haze of passion she struggled for the surface of common sense. Her fingers clenched once in his hair then dropped to her lap, and she pushed back, freeing her lips from his.

  His breath blew hot and fast through his parted lips, the space separating them small enough that she caught the whiff of butterscotch. She slid her tongue over the roof of her mouth and tasted the sweetness again.

  His voice rasped out of his parted lips, and his eyes burned with hot desire. “Is that what you think I want, Sarah?”

  How did he possess so much control when she wanted to melt into his arms? Why hadn’t he touched anything but her face when her body burned for his caresses?

  She didn’t nod but lifted her chin and met his hot stare. If that was what he wanted, he could have taken more. After Jeremy’s father, she’d promised herself to be no man’s fool again. So why had she so easily succumbed? She closed her eyes.

  “Before that kiss, I could have sworn to you that it wasn’t.” His deep voice wrapped around her. “Now I’m making no promises. You’re quite a woman, Sarah Mars.”

  She flinched, not over the name, not over the compliment, but over the bitterness beneath his words. She blinked open to his closed face. Who was this man personally? What in his past, besides his job, had left him so cynical? She sensed there was more, much more to Royce Graham.

  She sighed. The past didn’t matter. The present and future were all she could control. Jeremy’s future her greatest concern, her biggest sacrifice. She shivered. “Okay.”

  “What? That you’re quite a woman?” He jumped up from the desk, a couple of edgy steps bringing him to the patio doors leading to the courtyard.

  “I know what you think of me.”

  He ran a hand through his drying hair. “How can you when I don’t even know?”

  Her lips curved, but no amusement lightened her spirit. “I know what you want to think of me based on the gossip. That’s fine. I’m not concerned about my reputation or your opinion of me.” The lie lay heavy on her heart. “All I care about is Jeremy.”

  He turned back to her, a dark-blond brow lifted into his shaggy hair. “And?”

  “I want to trust you to keep him safe,” she said.

  His gaze dropped from hers, and the closed look overtook his rugged features. “I don’t make promises anymore, Sarah. I can’t.”

  “But you said…”

  “I said I want to keep you and the kid safe. I can’t guarantee I’ll be successful. In life there are no guarantees. You know that, Sarah.” He sighed wearily, shoving a hand through his damp hair. Determination deepened his voice when he vowed, “But I can promise you this much—I’ll die trying.”

  She shivered, surprised he had offered a promise after all. “Thank you for not lying to me. That’s why we’re going with you.” Her heart eased over her decision, a burden lifted.

  His pale-brown gaze met hers. No relief flickered in the sandy depths. No emotion at all. What was he hiding? “You better get packing. I chartered a plane this morning.”

  Panic attacked. “No!”

  “What? You just said—”

  “No! I can’t fly.” Sweat dampened her palms as she fisted her hands. “We’ll take the ferry.”

  “You’re mad because I booked it even though yesterday you refused—”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “But the ferry takes too long. I took it here because fog had all the airports closed. Bart doesn’t have that kind of time left.”

  “I can’t fly. You can keep Jeremy safe on the ferry, right?” She’d fought hard to rid herself of the habit of using haughtiness when cornered. But the panic streaking through her stomach brought desperation with the queasiness.

  His mouth twisted into a grimace of frustration. “Sure, whatever.”

  “Very reassuring.” She pushed her chair forward, hiding her trembling hands beneath the desk. “You better go cancel the charter.”

  For once, he left when she dismissed him. Because he’d gotten what he wanted? Despite a trembling finger sliding across her lips, she didn’t think of the kiss.

  Was she doing the right thing? Maybe for a stranger named Bart McCarthy and another stranger, Royce Graham. But what about for her son?

  Chapter Six

  Impatience gnawed at Royce as he waited in line to give the car ferry attendant the keys to the Avalanche. Four hours to cross the lake and another hour or more before they reached the Milwaukee hospital. That was time Bart didn’t have. Time Royce hated to waste. But he’d wasted more in his search for Sarah. What if he was too late? What if Bart didn’t come out of the coma?

  He couldn’t walk away from them. Not with the boy in danger.

  Bouncing his weight from foot to foot, Jeremy stood near Royce’s side. “This was a good idea, Mr. Graham.”

  The respect in the boy’s voice invoked a wince. “Yeah, I get my vehicle home, but it would have been faster to fly.”

  Royce winced again. The attendant didn’t look much older than Jeremy, probably wasn’t even as tall. Despite Sarah’s apparent belief that he was a man without means, the expensive SUV was his. He’d justified it in all sorts of ways as a necessary business expense, but he’d never had such a soft spot for his laptop. Now he had to trust it to a stranger again. But at least Sarah had agreed to go to Milwaukee.

  “Mom can’t fly.”

  “She’s scared?” He
glanced up to where she leaned over the railing. Despite her dark shades, her stare burned him. She only watched to ensure her son’s safety, to ensure he would keep him safe. He doubted she’d given their kiss another thought.

  Despite the minty taste that lingered in his mouth, the kiss had been stupid. More so because of the desire that smoldered in his gut. He would have never guessed her capable of such passion.

  But when the passion had fled, distrust had replaced it with equal measure. Why was she willing to go home with him? Could she care about a man she’d never met?

  Even without the dark glasses, her eyes had no problem keeping her secrets and concealing her soul. Did she have the mercenary soul of a gold digger? Or a true and generous soul concealed for her protection?

  He shivered despite the warm caress of the spring breeze. Lack of sleep had induced his fanciful thoughts.

  “Mr. Graham…”

  He dropped his gaze from the vision of Sarah at the railing, the wind blowing red tendrils of fine hair across her face and molding her silk clothes to her full breasts and long, lithe legs.

  “Sorry.”

  “Mom can’t fly because of Grandpa and Grandma. They died in a plane crash a long time ago. I remember them a little, sorta. Or maybe it’s just because Mom always talked about how great they were. But now she doesn’t talk about the past anymore.”

  Something in her past tied her to Bart McCarthy and his deathbed. Only Bart would know. He prayed his old man was wrong and that Bart could come out of the coma, with enough incentive…with Sarah. “It’s hard to lose people you love.”

  Jeremy nodded and turned toward the huge ferry that blocked the view of the clear water. Royce followed his gaze. Heat radiated from the black hull of the ship, the size of which was more ocean liner than ferry. But to hold the volume of vehicles and passengers who commuted across the lake and negotiate the sometimes rough waters, it had to be big.

  “Yeah…” Jeremy sighed. “It’s pretty much just me and Mom now.”

  “You’ve got your uncle.”

  When they’d stopped by the hospital earlier, Dylan hadn’t been too pleased with him when Royce had told him whom he had come to Winter Falls to find. He had tested their friendship by not immediately telling Dylan.