SINS OF THE FATHER

by Nina Bruhns

  He cracked an eyelid and was assaulted by a punky grin beaming down at him.

  "About time you two lovebirds woke up. It's almost noon."

  An exaggeration. Even from where he lay he could see the sun had barely broken the horizon.

  "Hello, Toby." Roman briefly mourned the demise of his own breakfast plans—something hot involving RaeAnne and not trout—but managed a smile nonetheless. The kid had no doubt saved his backside hours of unpleasant saddle-pounding by turning up on his own. "You okay?"

  "Sure. Out for a nice Sunday ride?"

  Roman grabbed hold of the edge of the sleeping bag when RaeAnne started to wake with a stretch. "Cut the BS, Tobe. You know very well why we're here."

  An "uh-oh" look crossed the kid's face but was quickly scattered by an eager smile. "You're here to help catch those poachers?"

  "Among other things." Roman was distracted by the feel of RaeAnne's bottom rubbing against his—

  "RaeAnne. Baby, wake up. We've got—" his words choked off as she turned in his arms and planted a sleepy kiss in the vicinity of his mouth, and her hand traced over—"Company."

  Her eyes slowly opened and focused on his lips, then rose to Toby's vermilion face. Her cheeks went nearly the same shade. "Oh, hi, Toby."

  "Hi, Miss Martin, I uh, just remembered something I have to do back at camp. I'll just—"

  "Don't you dare go anywhere," she said as she flailed an arm out and groped the ground sheet for her clothes. "Just turn your back for a minute."

  Roman made sure Toby had obliged before stopping RaeAnne's movements with a hug. He wanted to whisper things in her ear—how much he'd enjoyed sleeping with his arms wrapped around her, how much he still wanted her … how much he loved her. All the things that should be said after the night they'd shared. But for that he needed privacy. So instead he quickly pulled her close, caressing her breast as he gave her a deep, silent kiss.

  "Good morning," he whispered, pouring every feeling he could into those two words before letting her go.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to get lost?" Toby mumbled from his stump by the fire.

  "No," they answered in unison, then smiled at each other as they hurried to get dressed.

  Toby told them he'd spotted their horses while fishing the lake early that morning, and since he'd had good luck, decided to share his catch.

  "Delicious," RaeAnne said appreciatively, driving Roman nuts by deliberately licking her fingers after polishing off her portion.

  "Listen, Toby, we need to talk," he said, forcing his attention to more pressing matters than his still-ravenous hunger for her. "I think you know more than you realize about this poaching stuff. And maybe even about the murder. I'm beginning to think they have to be connected somehow, and I believe you can fill in some of the blanks."

  The boy's face drained of color. "I was afraid of that."

  "You'd better tell us everything, son," Roman suggested, handing the kid a cup of coffee from the pan that had just boiled. "You could be in danger. And RaeAnne, too."

  "I knew it." Toby gave her an apologetic look. "I tried to get you to leave so they wouldn't hurt you."

  "Huh?"

  "Stealing your artifacts."

  RaeAnne gazed at him in amazement. "You mean all that was just a ploy to get rid of me?"

  The youngster lifted a shoulder, pushing a sneaker toe into the dirt. "Sort of." He looked up. "I believe what I said, about not messing with our burials. But… Well, after hearing you talk at the high school that time, I kinda figured you were on our side. I didn't want you to get caught in the middle of something bad."

  "You knew about the body buried at Cleary?" Roman asked, incredulous that the boy would have kept that a secret.

  "No, not exactly," he hedged. "I suspected something had happened … something nasty. The Fish and Wildlife guy—Jason—was missing. I'd talked to him about the poaching and he believed me. That's why he'd gone up into the mountains that day. But I had no idea if he was really dead."

  So now they were back to the poachers killing Danforth instead of Pritchett and his marijuana gang. Roman was beginning to get mental whiplash. He shook his head to clear it.

  "What made you think RaeAnne was in danger?"

  "Someone—the guys who did it—they must have seen me when I spoke to her at the site after her presentation at the high school. I asked some pretty pointed questions, and maybe they thought… Anyway, I got a phone call at home, a few days later. A guy said he'd give me a hundred bucks to chase her off the site, any way I could."

  Now they were getting somewhere. "Who was it?"

  Toby shook his head. "No idea."

  Maybe not. "Why on earth didn't you report all this?"

  "To who? The sheriff?" He snorted. "They're the ones who're doing the poaching. When I found out Miss Martin was dating Sheriff O'Donnaugh—" He halted midsentence, studying his feet.

  "You thought I was part of it," she finished.

  Roman gave her a grateful smile. "She was never involved in any poaching or anything else illegal," he assured Toby. "And don't worry, she's not dating the sheriff anymore."

  A tide of red inched up the boy's throat to his ears. "Cool."

  "So this phone call…?" Roman prompted.

  "It made me think. Why would someone want her gone from a dumb archaeological site? Unless—"

  "Unless there was something buried at Cleary that wasn't supposed to be."

  "Exactly!"

  "Stands to reason whoever was trying to scare off RaeAnne knew what that was. In this case, a dead body."

  Toby got up and started pacing around the camp. "I figured if I did what they said, and could get a glimpse of whoever gave me the money, I'd know exactly who was behind that guy's disappearance and the poaching."

  Roman winced. Dumb idea. "So what happened?"

  Toby made a disgusted sound. "She dug in her heels. No matter what I tried she wouldn't leave. So I didn't get the money. And then you showed up."

  He gave a wry chuckle. "Spoiled your plans, eh?"

  "Scared the snot out of us when you showed up on your dang Harley like some kind of badass outlaw. Thought for sure Miss Martin was a goner."

  RaeAnne rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks for sticking around."

  "We did. Doubled back and sneaked around to check on you. You seemed, uh … fine."

  The kid's grin was vintage smart aleck. Roman stifled a smile and said soberly, "We're old friends."

  "You guys getting married, or what?"

  RaeAnne sprayed a mouthful of coffee over the fire. Roman chose to avoid the question. "What I want to know is, why did they start shooting at us last night, and not before?"

  Toby spun to them, obviously horrified. "For real?"

  "Unfortunately, yes. Therefore, we have to ask, what changed yesterday?"

  "We found Crawford Edisto's remains," RaeAnne offered.

  Roman thought about it, then shook his head. "They couldn't have known that in advance. Plus, it's an historical burial. Where's the motive?"

  "Then it has to be our visit to Tecopa."

  Toby's eyes widened excitedly. "Dang! I knew it!"

  "What?" Roman and RaeAnne chorused.

  "I've always thought there was some connection between Tecopa and the poaching, and you just said you thought so, too."

  Toby went on to explain how he'd noticed after every poaching incident, the sheriff or a deputy would drive up and talk to someone at the lumber camp. "At first I thought they were investigating the poaching. But nothing ever seemed to be solved, and the animal carcass always disappeared right away. That's when I started suspecting both the sheriff's office and Tecopa, and writing things down." He looked up. "Afterward I realized the initials in your father's notes mostly matched men who had worked at the sheriff's office, too, in his day."

  Roman's stomach clenched painfully. His father. He felt RaeAnne's gentle fingers pry his apart and realized he'd clamped his hands around the scalding cook pot handle. She took
the pan from him and refilled his coffee mug with the muddy liquid, as he'd meant to do.

  "Toby, there's something we need to ask you," she said, relieving him of the task. He ordered himself not to betray his roiling emotions to the boy, who didn't need to know what was involved. "About that box of regalia you left on the porch at my cabin," she added.

  Toby suddenly turned his back, stirring the fire with a stick. "What about it?"

  "We need to know where it came from."

  "I can't tell you that."

  "It's important, Toby."

  The kid crouched silently by the fire, pushing burning embers back and forth between the spokes of the grill. "Why?" he finally asked.

  Roman sighed. Why were things always so complicated? Just once he'd like to get a straight answer the first time out. Maybe he was in the wrong damn profession. Dogs wouldn't ask questions when you offered to fix the pain.

  "I was only six when I was told my father had died," he began.

  "I heard about him," Toby interrupted, looking up respectfully. "You were born around here, weren't you?"

  "Big Pine," he confirmed.

  "And your father was a real hero," the boy said wide-eyed with admiration. "He was shot during that AIM protest, back in '73—" admiration turned to doubt as he searched Roman's face "—by the FBI."

  "After he'd killed two agents," Roman gently reproved. "There were no heroes that day. None. Do you understand?"

  "No," Toby answered with the heat of youth.

  "Me, neither," Roman wearily agreed. "And that's why I need to know where that box came from. I think my father may still be alive."

  Toby's head jerked up. "Alive? But how?"

  "His body was never found, and I've had … indications … from the Bureau that his file is still active. I've got to know, Toby. Surely you see that?"

  "I guess." Reluctantly the boy nodded. "Okay. The Chairman. I got it from the Chairman. He asked me to deliver it to you, anonymously. Please don't, say I told. I swore on my honor."

  Roman's brain spun in his skull. The Chairman. What did he have to do with all this?

  Lord almighty. He should have known. The old man had said from the beginning he knew Hector Santangelo back when. And he'd also said outright things weren't always what they seemed. Why had Roman been so dense, thinking the tribal elder was referring to RaeAnne and her artifacts?

  He looked up to see RaeAnne watching him, empathy radiating from her tender expression. He had to look away. He couldn't take her kindness when it concerned this subject. It was too raw. Too furious. Too open a wound.

  And all at once he wondered if this was how she'd felt about him, until he'd come back into her life just a few short days ago. That raw, blistering fury over life-altering injustices that you couldn't control.

  Suddenly he couldn't breathe. Huge injustices, like his betrayal, their baby's death, the eighteen years of abandonment she'd lived through, the plans for love he'd dashed, the new life he may have selfishly created in her womb this week. Painful insight burned like acid in the bloody wreckage of his heart. He grabbed his chest, and the tin mug tumbled from his hands onto the dirt, splashing hot coffee everywhere.

  Jeezus, no wonder she couldn't trust him. It was amazing she could even look at him!

  And this woman had made love to him last night. Had let him touch her and bring her pleasure, and given him more in a few hours than a dozen others had done in half a lifetime.

  "Roman?" her sweet voice wafted through the red mists of his tortured mind. His eyes burned and he choked back a torrent of blackness, reaching for her. Then he was on his knees and so was she, clutching him, holding him so he didn't surrender to the oblivion of his guilt.

  "Roman, please, you're scaring me." He felt her gently shake him. "Tell me what's wrong."

  "I'm sorry," he said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

  He never, ever, wanted to let her go. Yet he must, for how could such an overwhelming fury ever find peace and forgiveness? She would never trust him. Never. He saw that now. Saw it with the whole, huge, gaping hole that had once been his heart, until he'd ripped it from his chest and placed it at her feet.

  All around them, shadows lifted as the sun rose high above the surrounding mountains. The granite of the peaks shone in the bright morning light, sparkling like teeth in a false, pearly smile.

  He looked into RaeAnne's eyes and they looked back at him, concern and alarm blazing in their depths. He felt utterly hopeless. He would lose her. No, he'd never had her back, and he never would. He'd seen to that eighteen years ago.

  "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and knew his life had turned to dust.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  «^»

  "The coffee's burned you," RaeAnne said, easing an ashen Roman back onto the log where he'd been sitting. He was definitely scaring her. But for Toby's sake, she didn't let herself panic. "Stay here and I'll get some cool water."

  "No!" Roman grabbed her wrist, his expression just shy of desperation. "No. It's not necessary. I was just…" She waited anxiously for some clue to his distress. "…surprised."

  "Whew!" Toby hovered above them, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Man, I thought you'd had a stroke or something."

  "Are you all right?" RaeAnne prodded, immediately recognizing that Roman's stalwart regroup was just a show for her and the boy.

  "I'm fine," he promised, a reassuring smile leaping to his face. "No heart attack. The subject of my father … still upsets me. I can't believe I sat right there in the Chairman's office and he didn't say anything to me."

  "Maybe he doesn't know anything," she suggested, brushing a hand over her lover's cheek. She needed to touch him. To make sure he was really okay. No, he didn't feel clammy. Maybe a bit chilled. "Let me get your jacket," she said, determined to bring back the healthy, happy man she'd awoken with this morning, and banish this haunted-eyed ghost.

  "Why don't you put your arms around me instead?"

  He drew her onto his lap and, though surprised, she went without protest, despite Toby's presence. She smiled into her man's worried eyes, wanting so much to ease the pain in them. She'd had no idea he felt quite this strongly about his father. No wonder he was obsessed with putting the specter of his father's accused treachery to rest.

  She wrapped her arms around him and for the first time believed she understood this wonderfully, incredibly complicated man. He said he wanted her trust—and he truly thought that's what was wrong between them. But the truth was, he didn't trust himself. And he wouldn't. Not until he'd come to terms with his father's betrayals.

  It all came down to honor. Roman's whole life had been lived as one long expression of his sense of honor. His father was an extension of that honor—as was she. As a boy he'd always done the right thing; later he'd left her because it was the only thing his honor would allow, he'd joined the FBI to balance the scales after what his father had done. Roman's honor meant everything to him. Everything.

  And that's why she had to let him go, to let him do what he needed to do. And why when she took it, no matter what color the stick turned, she must tell him the pregnancy test was negative.

  A feeling of great peace descended over her. True, she may lose him to his quest. Might watch him walk out of her life and never return. But this time she would be all right. This time she would know why he'd done it. And that would help her to survive the pain.

  * * *

  "If you two are going to start smooching," came Toby's embarrassed voice from behind them, "I'm outta here."

  RaeAnne smiled over her shoulder and eased out from Roman's arms. "Not a chance, bucko."

  Roman seemed to gather himself, and followed her cue. "You should never be too busy to give your woman a hug," he said with a wink as he rose to his feet after her. "Remember that."

  "Yeah, whatever," Toby said, making a face.

  "So, what do we do now?" RaeAnne asked, trying to get her thoughts back to the information they'd pooled, and a logical
course of action. "Shouldn't you report all this to someone?"

  Roman nodded thoughtfully. "Absolutely. But first… Toby, do you know where that stand of old growth is on the Tecopa lease? The one they don't let anyone enter?"

  "Sure. But it's completely fenced off with barbed wire. I've even seen guards patrolling the perimeter. They really don't want people to go in there."

  Roman gave a lopsided grin. "Let's take a look anyway."

  After breaking camp and saddling up, RaeAnne took one last, longing glance back at the lake before they rode off, knowing she'd have to wait for the hot springs for what she had in mind. And Roman, too, judging by the wink he gave her. Ah, hell.

  It was a beautiful day, and if it weren't for her all-too-real fear of being shot out of her saddle, she would have enjoyed the almost three hour ride to Tecopa's old-growth enclosure. As it was, she was constantly reminded of the danger they were in. All around them lay Tecopa's leased timberlands, and the possibility of running into Pritchett's men.

  Early on, they unfolded the map and discussed the best way to avoid the current areas of lumber operations, which Toby pointed out They stuck to the least-traveled trails, kept their voices down, and didn't stop until they'd reached their destination, deep inside Tecopa territory.

  By the time they spotted the barbed-wire fence, RaeAnne's heart was in permanent high-gear. "And why are we doing this, again?" she asked.

  "I'd at least like to know if we're on the right track about the marijuana growing before requesting a search warrant. I still can't figure out how growing weed is connected to the poaching, but I intend to find out. Maybe we'll get lucky and find something to link them. But probable cause would certainly help the warrant, if nothing else."

  Roman had gone into official FBI Agent Mode as soon as they'd mounted their horses this morning, taking charge, issuing orders, keeping a vigilant watch all around. She could tell it bothered him big-time that he was putting two civilians in potential danger. Under the circumstances he had no choice, but that didn't mean he was going to take any unnecessary chances.