A Piece of Texas Trilogy

by Peggy Moreland

  Hearing the kitchen door open, she picked up a stack of papers and carried them to the pile marked MIA Reports, 1986–1989, knowing it was Craig coming to help her.

  “In here, Craig,” she called, then added, “And bring me a soda, will you? I’m dying of thirst.”

  She thumbed through the documents, scanning the dates on each, then braced a knee against the stack to support it, while she wedged the papers she held into the proper order.

  “Would you settle for a lemonade?”

  She whirled, and the stack toppled over, papers sliding to cover the floor. Sam stood less than ten feet away, a glass of lemonade in his hand. Decked out in his dress uniform, he looked handsome, regal…intimidating.

  She wanted to tell him she was sorry, that she loved him, but all that came out was a breathy, “Sam.”

  He held up the glass. “Sorry. No soda. Only lemonade.”

  She searched his face for any sign of emotion. That he’d missed her. That he loved her. But his expression remained unreadable, his eyes a cool sky-blue.

  Gulping, she said, “Lemonade’s fine.”

  He crossed to hand her the glass. She took it and had to grip it between both hands, she was shaking so much.

  “When did you—”

  “How are—”

  They both stopped and he opened a hand. “Ladies first.”

  “When did you get back?”

  “Yesterday.” He glanced at his watch. “Or rather, today.” At her confused look, he explained. “The time difference. Vietnam’s a day ahead of us.”

  “Oh.”

  “How are you?”

  She forced a smile. “Fine.” She glanced around the room. “Busy, as you can tell by the mess.”

  He crossed to a chair and picked up a document from the stack piled on it. “What’s all this?”

  “My mother’s obsession.” When he glanced back at her in question, she shrugged and lifted a hand, indicating all the stacks that filled the room. “These are all the documents, reports and newspapers clippings about MIAs that she saved over the years.”

  He tossed the document back onto the stack. “What are you doing with it?”

  “Sorting, cataloging.” She laughed self-consciously. “Being my anal self.”

  He gave her a chiding look at the anal comment. “I meant, why is it here?”

  She drew in a shuddery breath and looked around, thinking of all the discoveries she’d made since opening that first box, how the things she’d found inside had changed her.

  “It was all stored in the attic. When I was looking for the piece of paper for Addy, I decided to bring it down and try to put it in some type of order.”

  “Did you find it?”

  “Yes…or rather, Craig did. We took it to her. Craig and I. She was thrilled to have it, but I don’t think it was much help.”

  “You went to Lampasas?” he asked in surprise.

  Tears surged and she could only nod.

  “But…why? When I asked you to give it to me, you refused. What changed your mind?”

  She dropped her gaze and pushed a finger through the condensation on the glass. “I don’t know. A lot of things, I guess. Mostly I wanted to do it for you.”

  “Ah, Leah.”

  She lifted her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I know you must hate me for all the awful things I said.”

  He crossed to take the glass from her and set it aside, so that he could gather her hands in his. He gave them a squeeze. “Not a chance. I couldn’t hate you if I tried.”

  The tears pushed higher. “You were nothing but kind to me, and the one thing you asked of me, I refused.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

  She tugged a hand free to drag an arm across her eyes. “I don’t know how you can say that after all the mean things I said.”

  “It’s easy to forgive someone you love.”

  She froze, then slowly lowered her arm to look at him. “You love me?”

  Smiling, he nodded. “More than life itself.” He reached into his pocket. “I have something for you.”

  She blinked to clear her eyes and shot them wide when he held up a chain with dog tags dangling at its end. She shifted her gaze to his. “My father’s?”

  He nodded, then opened her hand and let the chain snake down to pool on her palm. “I found it, along with his remains, outside the village where he was killed.” He closed her fingers around the tags. “He’s not missing anymore, Leah. Your father’s finally coming home.”

  “Oh, Sam,” she said tearfully and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  He held her tight and pressed his lips against her hair. “I wanted to give you closure, Leah. Your whole family. I just wish your mother could be here to welcome him home and give him the burial he deserves.”

  She shook her head. “They’re together. I know they are. She loved him so much. That’s why she took her life. She couldn’t stand living without him any longer.”

  He pushed her to arm’s length, his forehead pleated in a frown. “You sound like you’ve forgiven her, like you’re not mad anymore.”

  She sniffed, shook her head. “Losing my dad destroyed her. Searching for him gave her something to live for. Hope, I guess. She did the best she could for Kevin and me. I realize that now. In her place, I don’t know that I could’ve done any better. Sam—” She stopped and caught his hand, drew him to the sofa, needing its stability beneath her before she told him the rest.

  When confronted with the stacks of papers that covered the sofa’s cushions, she hesitated a moment, then raked them onto the floor and plopped down.

  Sam stared at her in disbelief. “Did I see what I thought I just saw?”

  She looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

  “Did Leah Kittrell just make a mess?”

  Pursing her lips, she tugged him down beside her. “Don’t be a smart aleck. We need to talk.”

  “I believe I said those same words before I left for Vietnam.”

  “Yes, you did. But I wasn’t ready to discuss it then. I am now.”

  He settled back. “Okay. Shoot.”

  She bit her lower lip, trying to think how best to tell him what she wanted to say. “We love each other,” she began carefully.

  “I can verify the W in that we.”

  She gave him an exasperated look, then continued. “And when two people love each other, they need to be together.”

  He draped an arm around her shoulders. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  She drew back, finding it hard to concentrate with him so close. “Your job takes you all over the world, and mine is here in Tyler. I have my family. Responsibilities. I have Craig to think about it. He needs me.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “But I want to be with you.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “No,” she said in frustration. “But I can’t be with you and here with my family at the same time. I told you that I hated the military, that I couldn’t live my life in fear of losing you.”

  “And that’s still true?”

  She released a shuddery breath. “Yes. Sort of. But I think I can deal with it better now.”

  “What brought about the change?”

  “Mack.”

  “Mack?” he repeated.

  “Yes. He said something that started me thinking. He said that if I loved you, it wouldn’t matter where you were. I’d feel the loss either way.”

  His smile soft, he swept her hair back from her face. “I always knew that man was a genius.”

  “You’re missing the point,” she said, her frustration returning.

  “And that would be…?”

  “That I love you and want to be with you.”

  He leaned to press his lips to hers. “Not a problem.”

  She nearly wept at the feel of his lips on hers but flattened a hand against his chest and pushed him back, refusing to let him distr
act her until they’d reached an agreement of some kind. “It is a problem,” she insisted. “I can’t be in two places at once.”

  “You don’t have to be.”

  She filled her hands with her hair. “Sam!” she cried in frustration. “How can we fix this if you won’t even admit that we have a problem?”

  “Because we don’t.”

  When she glowered at him, he only smiled.

  “I resigned from the Army.”

  For a moment she could only stare. Then she shook her head. “No. I won’t let you do that. You love the Army, your job. I won’t allow you to sacrifice your happiness for mine.”

  “Don’t you get it? Being here with you, with Craig—that’s what important to me. That’s what makes me happy.” He cupped a hand at her face, holding her gaze to his. “I had a good run, Leah. Sixteen years. But now I want to come home. Start a family. With you, Leah.”

  She searched his face, afraid to believe what he was telling her, grasp what he was offering her. “Sam, are you sure?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  With a squeal of delight, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Oh, Sam. I want that, too.”

  She kissed him, holding nothing back, desperate to show him how much she loved him, how much she needed him, what a wonderful life they would have together.

  Her heart full to near bursting, she drew back to look at him…and frowned as a thought occurred to her. “But what will you do? For a job, I mean.”

  He teased her with a smile. “What? Afraid you’ll have to support us?”

  Pursing her lips, she gave his chest a push. “No. But I know you. You wouldn’t be satisfied sitting around doing nothing.”

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t. I’ve been playing with some ideas.”

  “Like what?”

  He pointed a stern finger at her nose. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to go ballistic on me. What I’m considering is perfectly safe.”

  “I’m not going to go ballistic,” she said impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, just tell me!”

  “I’d like to work with families of POWs and MIAs to help them locate their husbands, sons and brothers.”

  She pressed her hand over her heart, knowing how much those families needed the closure Sam had given her. “Oh, Sam. That’s wonderful.”

  “I’ve got skills to offer. Contacts, too. But I wouldn’t charge for my services. Only what expenses are incurred. I’ve set enough back over the years that my savings will take care of our living expenses. We won’t be rich by any stretch of the imagination, but we won’t starve, either.”

  “Oh, Sam,” she said tearfully. “I don’t care about being rich. All I want is for us to be together. Happy. The rest will take care of itself.”

  He framed her face between his hands. “Marry me, Leah. Nothing would make me happier than having you as my wife, the mother of my children.”

  Laughing through her tears, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

  Peggy Moreland’s A PIECE OF TEXAS series

  will continue. But don’t miss her next release

  MERGER OF FORTUNES, the first book in

  a new continuity, available January 2007

  from Silhouette Desire.

  Set in darkness beyond the ordinary world.

  Passionate tales of life and death.

  With characters’ lives ruled by laws the everyday world can’t begin to imagine.

  Introducing NOCTURNE, a spine-tingling new

  line from Silhouette Books.

  The thrills and chills begin with UNFORGIVEN

  by Lindsay McKenna

  Plucked from the depths of hell, former military sharpshooter Reno Manchahi was hired by the government to kill a thief, but he had a mission of his own. Descended from a family of shape-shifters, Reno vowed to get the revenge he’d thirsted for all these years. But his mission went awry when his target turned out to be a powerful seductress, Magdalena Calen Hernandez, who risked everything to battle a potent evil. Suddenly, Reno had to transform himself into a true hero and fight the enemy that threatened them all. He had to become a Warrior for the Light….

  Turn the page for a sneak preview of

  UNFORGIVEN by Lindsay McKenna.

  On sale September 26, wherever books are sold.

  Chapter 1

  One shot…one kill.

  The sixteen-pound sledgehammer came down with such fierce power that the granite boulder shattered instantly. A spray of glittering mica exploded into the air and sparkled momentarily around the man who wielded the tool as if it were a weapon. Sweat ran in rivulets down Reno Manchahi’s drawn, intense face. Naked from the waist up, the hot July sun beating down on his back, he hefted the sledgehammer skyward once more. Muscles in his thick forearms leaped and biceps bulged. Even his breath was focused on the boulder. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Army General Robert Hampton’s fleshy, arrogant fifty-year-old features on the rock’s surface. Air exploded from between his lips as he brought the avenging hammer down. The boulder pulverized beneath his funneled hatred.

  One shot…one kill…

  Nostrils flaring, he inhaled the dank, humid heat and drew it deep into his massive lungs. Revenge allowed Reno to endure his imprisonment at a U.S. Navy brig near San Diego, California. Drops of sweat were flung in all directions as the crack of his sledgehammer claimed a third stone victim. Mouth taut, Reno moved to the next boulder.

  The other prisoners in the stone yard gave him a wide berth. They always did. They instinctively felt his simmering hatred, the palpable revenge in his cinnamon-colored eyes, was more than skin-deep.

  And they whispered he was different.

  Reno enjoyed being a loner for good reason. He came from a medicine family of shape-shifters. But even this secret power had not protected him—or his family. His wife, Ilona, and his three-year-old daughter, Sarah, were dead. Murdered by Army General Hampton in their former home on USMC base in Camp Pendleton, California. Bitterness thrummed through Reno as he savagely pushed the toe of his scarred leather boot against several smaller pieces of gray granite that were in his way.

  The sun beat down upon Manchahi’s naked shoulders, grown dark red over time, shouting his half-Apache heritage. With his straight black hair grazing his thick shoulders, copper skin and broad face with high cheekbones, everyone knew he was Indian. When he’d first arrived at the brig, some of the prisoners taunted him and called him Geronimo. Something strange happened to Reno during his fight with the name-calling prisoners. Leaning down after he’d won the scuffle, he’d snarled into each of their bloodied faces that if they were going to call him anything, they would call him gan, which was the Apache word for devil.

  His attackers had been shocked by the wounds on their faces, the deep claw marks. Reno recalled doubling his fist as they’d attacked him en masse. In that split second, he’d gone into an altered state of consciousness. In times of danger, he transformed into a jaguar. A deep, growling sound had emitted from his throat as he defended himself in the three-against-one fracas. It all happened so fast that he thought he had imagined it. He’d seen his hands morph into a forearm and paw, claws extended. The slashes left on the three men’s faces after the fight told him he’d begun to shape-shift. A fist made bruises and swelling; not four perfect, deep claw marks. Stunned and anxious, he hid the knowledge of what else he was from these prisoners. Reno’s only defense was to make all the prisoners so damned scared of him and remain a loner.

  Alone. Yeah, he was alone, all right. The steel hammer swept downward with hellish ferocity. As the granite groaned in protest, Reno shut his eyes for just a moment. Sweat dripped off his nose and square chin.

  Straightening, he wiped his furrowed, wet brow and looked into the pale blue sky. What got his attention was the startling cry of a red-tailed hawk as it flew over the brig yard. Squinting, he watched the bird. Reno could make out the rust-colored tail on the hawk. As
a kid growing up on the Apache reservation in Arizona, Reno knew that all animals that appeared before him were messengers.

  Brother, what message do you bring me? Reno knew one had to ask in order to receive. Allowing the sledgehammer to drop to his side, he concentrated on the hawk who wheeled in tightening circles above him.

  Freedom! the hawk cried in return.

  Reno shook his head, his black hair moving against his broad, thickset shoulders. Freedom? No way, Brother. No way. Figuring that he was making up the hawk’s shrill message, Reno turned away. Back to his rocks. Back to picturing Hampton’s smug face.

  Freedom!

  ISBN: 978-1-55254-701-4

  A PIECE OF TEXAS TRILOGY

  Copyright © 2006 by Peggy Bozeman Morse

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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