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“She can’t ever know she’s mine, Rose.”
Tara had been hovering in that lovely place of not quite awake when the words came to her again. It had been happening ever since she’d woken up in Paris. Not a dream, but a rusty, old memory pushing at the edges of her subconscious, until finally, it slipped into the light.
The frantic pounding of her heart echoed in every cell as it had when she’d overheard the conversation nearly a lifetime ago—when she shouldn’t have been listening. Was supposed to be in bed. But she’d been curious about the loud voices. Had crept down the hallway and peered through a door that hadn’t been quite closed, and she’d heard things that made no sense to her five-year-old mind.
Now, as she lay alone in the big bed, listening to Jake singing in the shower, much of what she’d never understood about her life, about who she was inside, slid into place like square pegs in square holes, and left her wondering what to do. Another lie—a secret to keep just when she’d thought she was free.
Charlie’s scratching at the door reminded her she had to get up, get on with living—in spite of this new knowledge.
The shower stopped. If she pretended to be sleeping, would he leave her there? Could she steal just a bit more time to adjust? She had to try or she risked blurting it out when she needed to verify what she thought she’d heard. After all, she’d only been five. She rolled onto her stomach, tucked her arms under the pillow, and buried her face in the crook of her elbow. Slowed her breathing.
Jake came to the side of the bed and didn’t make a sound for a minute or two. Then he picked up his phone, opened the door for Charlie, and left.
Seconds later, the big cat was on the bed rubbing at her and making mamma-cat noises in his throat. She gave in and opened her eyes to see Nixie using tiny and determined claws to haul herself up over the edge of the bed. Tara laughed and wrapped an arm around Charlie, then buried her face in his soft gray coat. “Did you hear me panicking?”
When she rolled to her back, he climbed onto her chest and hunkered down to stare into her face. Nixie tried to emulate his position, but without enough room, she kept sliding off Tara’s shoulder. She finally gave up and snuggled in beside Tara’s ear. And that’s how Jake found them.
In a white t-shirt and faded jeans, he stood by the bed looking absolutely delectable. And the icing on the cake? He held a steaming cup of coffee. The scent had Tara shifting the purring felines so she could sit up.
“Mmm, wonderful. Thanks,” she said after her first sip. Charlie arched his back under her stroking hand as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She leaned down to bump foreheads with him. “I’ll feed you as soon as I grab a shower.” She kissed both cats and, coffee cup in hand, headed for the bathroom.
“Hey, what about me?” asked Jake. “I don’t get a kiss?”
“Nope.” Because then he’d end up in the shower with her and what a perfect way to not deal with her latest discovery. She couldn’t take the easy way out. Not anymore. “Morning breath,” she said and closed the door on the three of them. Locked it.
Most of the day was spent in the War Room—as Rachel called it—conducting the tedious task of searching records. Looking for the man with many names, for his patterns, hoping to figure out his next move.
Hours in, they got word that one of their leads had fallen flat. The man who had rented a boat just a few hours before Rocking Point had been torched, was legit. He’d been questioned by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police—who didn’t actually ride horses anymore except for exhibitions—and he’d been released.
“What about Washington State?” asked Tara. “What are the chances he boated up from there?”
“Slim to none without his passport showing up in the system,” Jake replied. “Canada Customs watches all boats crossing the border, and they have agents meet them at docks, or even board while still on the water.”
“He could have done it at night, with no lights,” said Tara.
“Night vision,” explained Dhillon. “There’s a frosty game where you can engage night vision or infra-red, and pick up a bug, the kind with legs, from a mile away.”
“Real life’s different,” Angie told her son.
He got up from the floor where he’d been introducing Nixie to Chance, his greyhound. “Hello? I’ve got a heat detection app on my phone. If it’s in games, it’s possible in real life. Border stuff is top secret and spooky because of drug smugglers and people smugglers and all. Your Brady guy beats animals. No way a stupid fu...”His gaze shot to his mother. “No way a guy like that outsmarts border cops.” He glanced at Chance who had the kitten between his front legs and was licking her face. “Oh man, what a sap.”
“I agree with the kid,” Quinn said. “We’ll keep searching the data for legit border crossings, focusing on age and general description, starting with when we lost him in Kentucky.”
“If I wanted to sneak into a country, I’d do it by air, in a horse crate,” said Tara, and all eyes swung her way. “I’ve never had anyone look down into a crate. Inspectors rarely even climb in the front to flip lips.” When Dhillon frowned, she explained, “Their ID numbers are tattooed inside their upper lip so you turn it up to read the number and compare it to the one on the registration papers. The first two digits are the year of their birth and those are switched to a letter so it’s easy to tell a horse’s age at a glance. Anyhow, like I say, if a person was actually in the stall, underneath the horse, he’d never be noticed. That’s what probably happened in France. Why the van driver kept stalling about switching the stallion to the crate.”
“I’ll look for incoming flights with horses in their cargo,” said Rachel. “Not that it’ll make any difference unless we can catch him on security footage somewhere, which doesn’t seem likely, but it could give us a few places to check out.”
Quinn was frowning as he watched Rachel rub her huge belly. “Are you—”
“Kids’ve got a soccer game going.”
“Why don’t we break for lunch? I’ll go grab the sandwiches. Dhillon?” said Angie. “With me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Either you guys are going to talk about something good that I’m not supposed to hear, or she wants me to wash my hands.” He held one out and Chance licked it. “There. Done.” He grinned. “And I always figure out later what’s going on because I’m too damned smart for my britches. It’s not swearing if I’m just repeating what my gramps says.”
“Dhillon!” Angie’s shout came down the hall and the boy left, his dog at his heels.
“Does he call James, ‘gramps’, to his face?” asked Jake.
“It’s the latest development. I think Dad nearly swallowed his tongue the first time. I know I did,” said Quinn. “It was priceless. I happened to be looking at Mom, and she totally cracked up. Bolted from the room so no one else saw.”
Tara hadn’t met Julia yet, but references to her as the family matriarch didn’t quite fit with the image of a woman laughing uncontrollably at her husband’s expense.
Figuring out the dynamics of this family would be a challenge, as large families weren’t something she’d ever been privy to. She could see they anticipated each other’s reactions. And there were dozens of nuances to try to figure out.
Would she ever understand this group well enough to feel like she belonged? She blinked, stunned to realize she wanted to be part of this family. They’d closed ranks around her rather than pushing her away after the revelation of her lie—the secret she’d carried for so long. They’d accepted that she was with Jake.
His breath against her ear drew her from her thoughts even before his whispered words. “Where are you?”
She blinked a couple of times, then straightened in her chair. “Sorry. Daydreaming.”
“More likely a nightmare with the way you were frowning.”
Proof she needed to shake off the worry. “Thinking about how Brady might choose to hide.”
“Conclusions?”
“He’s cocky. I think he’d want to be in plain sight. And if he doesn’t know he’s being chased, he’s getting ready to establish himself in a new location. So he’d go for a disguise. He’s vain, so wouldn’t use anything like added weight or age. More likely he’ll go blond, with facial hair and wear colored contacts, or maybe glasses. Sunglasses. He’s not likely to fade into the background wherever he is.”
Dhillon rolled a cart filled with food into the room. Angie followed with a stack of bowls for the salad, and a basket holding utensils and napkins.
Rachel and Tara sat at the table and picked at salads while the rest stood around the cart, filling up on sandwiches and cookies, talking baseball.
Tara was concerned about Rachel. “You’re not feeling very well, are you?”
The woman studied her for a minute. “You’re pretty observant for someone who’s more into animals than people.”
Tara froze, fork halfway to her mouth. She was trying to blend in with these people and not come off as completely antisocial. She set the fork back on the plate and took a sip of her soda.
Rachel shook her head and smiled. “That wasn’t meant as a criticism or insult. What I was trying to say is that you’re very intuitive. You know this family is full of people with gifts like extra-sensory perception and whatnot, right?”
“What’s yours?”
She smiled. “I can hear my sister-in-law’s cat’s thoughts. He adopted her—us—so I suppose we belong to him the way you belong to yours.”
“I rescued Charlie, then he rescued me.” Damn.
Rachel hadn’t missed her slip-up. “Rescued you?”
Wishing she could get back to work instead of playing twenty questions, Tara said, “When I was getting over what I’d gone through with Brady, there were some pretty dark days. Charlie was great company then.”
“It was one thing, hearing what that man did, but now, knowing you went through all that at the hands of a man who should have cared for and protected you, sickens me. I don’t understand monsters. I know what it’s like to have a parent who’s different, but I never had a horrendous experience like you did. I feel so bad for what you went through.” Rachel rubbed low on the right side of her stomach. “I know it’s the hormones right now, but the love I feel for this sometimes annoying lump of children is greater than anything I’ve ever experienced. I can’t imagine how a parent can do anything that would cause their child harm of any kind.”
“Rose was an incredible mom.”
“I applaud her, giving birth at fifteen and being able to give her baby the kind of love you had.” Rachel mopped tears as they spilled over. “Sorry, I get weepy all the time lately.” She reached for a napkin and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Are you okay?” The words were there like an echo in the room.
“Yeah, sometimes, I swear the little buggers hook their toes into my ribcage and swing from there. Aw, look. Here comes my hero.”
Quinn held out an oatmeal cookie. “Consuelo made you one without raisins. But you can’t have it unless you go for a walk with me.”
“That’s just mean,” she said.
“You haven’t been out of that chair for hours. Your back’s got to be killing you.”
“I’ve been to the bathroom seven or eight times. I think that counts as exercise.”
“You can either come with me willingly, or I’ll carry you. Your choice.”
“I love when he gets all caveman.” She winked at Tara. “Used to be like this when he wanted to fool around. Now, it’s to check my blood pressure.”
Quinn leaned down and kissed his wife with noisy enthusiasm, and when he came up for air, said, “Maybe I still want to fool around.”
“Good, because if we took my blood pressure now, it would be through the roof.” She held out her hands. “Help a fat lady up, would you?”
Quinn laughed and tugged her to her feet.
“Ouch.” She leaned to one side. “Who gave the devil children spurs? If I find out, they’ll pay dearly. Come on, handsome,” she said to Quinn. “Let’s go neck in the front parlor.”
“We don’t have a front parlor,” he said as they left the room.
Jake was frowning when he set a chocolate cookie on top of the salad in her bowl. “You didn’t eat much.”
“Wasn’t hungry. Rachel isn’t feeling well.”
“I noticed she was uncomfortable.” He sat in the chair now vacant. “Eat your cookie.”
She picked it up and nibbled. “It’s more than that. She told me she was fine, but she wasn’t. You said yesterday that the plan is for her to give birth here with Quinn’s sister, Eve, as her doctor?”
“That’s right.”
“I think you should call Eve right now and tell her to check on Rachel.”