The Sharpshooter's Secret Son

by Mallory Kane

  She shook her head. “Not too bad. It’s a lot warmer over here than on the other side of the creek. Wonder why?”

  “There could be a fire smoldering on the other side of this wall. I don’t smell anything, so I’m not sure.”

  “A fire?”

  “Sometimes the coal in these underground passages catches fire. They can burn slowly for years before anything happens.” He put his hand on the dirt wall behind them. The wall did feel several degrees warmer than the wall on the other side.

  “Years? And what kind of anything?”

  “Yep, years. Like fifty or so in some cases. Eventually the fire will use up all the air in the mine and can burst through the surface.”

  Mindy turned her head to stare at him. “It won’t happen today, will it?”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Not if we’re lucky.”

  “Why couldn’t you have just said ‘Who knows?’ when I asked you why the wall was warm.”

  “Ask me again.”

  She laughed quietly and Deke felt her shoulders move. He lifted his left arm and slid it around her.

  “Why don’t you try to sleep,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye out for predators.”

  Mindy’s shoulders stiffened. “Predators? You mean Frank James? Or are there bears and things around?”

  He tightened his arm around her and bent to whisper in her ear. “You let me worry about bears and things. You just worry about getting some sleep. You’re exhausted, and you’ve got to rest so your baby can rest.”

  “Your baby,” she murmured.

  The two words ripped through him like a bullet.

  His baby.

  He still couldn’t make those two words work together. He didn’t have a baby. He couldn’t.

  Not with his legacy. Not if he was anything at all like his father. If? Hell. There was no if about it. He was like his father.

  His dad had been a mean, abusive drunk. Deke knew that his own battle had taken a different turn. He’d drunk a lot and tried drugs a little. But early on he’d discovered that he was a surly drunk rather than a violent one, like good old Dad. He didn’t lash out physically, but he definitely lashed out verbally, with hurtful, cutting jabs at anybody who happened to be in his way.

  No. Fatherhood was not for him. No innocent child should ever be subjected to what he could dish out when he was under the influence. A very good reason why he never drank anymore. Not even beer.

  “Deke?”

  His thoughts slammed back into the present, and he realized he was squeezing Mindy’s shoulders. He relaxed his hand. “Yeah, sugar?”

  “You don’t have to be afraid of him.”

  The image of his father, eyes black as night and deep lines in his scowling face, rose before his vision for a few seconds before he realized she was referring to the baby.

  “This little Sprout is a lot like you already. And he’s only just getting ready to be born.”

  “Sprout?”

  She laughed. “I call him that. It just came out one day when I was talking to him.” She rubbed her tummy with both hands. “Do you want to feel him move? It seems like he moves almost all the time now. I don’t know when he sleeps.”

  “I, uh—”

  “Come on. Give me your hands.”

  Mindy took his hands and placed them on her rounded tummy, which was much firmer than he’d expected it to be. He’d always figured a pregnant tummy would be sort of springy and mushy. But hers felt like a basketball, round and hard.

  “Is that how it’s supposed to be? All hard like that?”

  Mindy laughed, and her laugh slid through him like old times.

  Then something moved. Deke jerked his hands away.

  “Okay, you big scaredy-cat, it’s just your son.”

  Just?

  She pressed his hands down again and slid them over to her side. “Here. Here’s his foot. Mmh. Feel that? He just kicked me. It’s his favorite pastime.”

  “He kicked,” Deke whispered in awe. “That was his foot.”

  “See? You can tell he’s very healthy. He’s pretty big, too. The doctor thinks he’ll probably weigh at least seven pounds.”

  “Seven pounds.”

  Mindy inclined her head and gently bumped Deke’s chin. “You’re funny. All you’re doing is repeating what I say. Is Sprout here that intimidating?”

  Slowly, he nodded.

  Mindy yawned, so he extracted his hands from hers and put his arm around her again. “Lean against me and sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

  Mindy tucked her head under his chin and settled against him, with her tummy pressed against his side. “Then you have to wake me up to stand guard while you sleep.”

  Deke settled gently back against the warm wall and watched the tunnel in front of them, wondering how long it would take for Frank James to find them.

  Chapter Seven

  He drove the SUV along the fence line, using only the moon’s light to examine the chain links for tears or breaks. Headlights would ruin his night vision. Besides, although everyone knew it was his shift to guard the remote perimeter of Castle Ranch, at least without headlights they couldn’t see exactly where he was or what he was doing.

  Everyone at the ranch was getting cabin fever, so matt parker had suggested that the specialists patrol the perimeter. All of them had jumped at the idea. It wasn’t their nature to sit idle while one of their own was in trouble.

  He drove over a ridge—and there it was. Exactly what he’d been looking for. On a spread the size of Castle Ranch, there had to be sections that were totally hidden. And this one was perfect for his purposes. The top of the ridge had a clear view of the front of the ranch. Its other side was completely hidden from all directions by scrub brush. A sniper could hide out here for hours—days, if necessary.

  His hands shook on the steering wheel. At least, the vengeance he’d longed for all these years was within his reach.

  MINDY SLEPT LIGHTLY. It had been weeks since she’d slept well, thanks to her little Sprout. Now her bed consisted of hard-packed dirt in an underground cave in early April. Which meant the nights were still quite cold. If she didn’t have Deke to lean on and snuggle up against, she’d be half or maybe three-quarters frozen by now.

  But she did have Deke. At some time while she was asleep, he’d managed to maneuver so that her head was on his chest and her tummy rested in the cradle created by his thighs.

  She closed her eyes and relaxed against him. Her right ear was pressed to his chest and his strong, steady heartbeat set a rhythm for hers.

  And her Sprout’s. She could feel the baby. He felt like he was gently rocking himself to the comforting drumbeat of Deke’s heart.

  The spring provided a lilting melody to the bass beat of Deke’s heart, and water dripping somewhere close by added a sweet accompaniment. Above her head the pale light of the moon lent an idyllic glow to the underground cavern.

  Right here, right now, Mindy could believe that she and Deke had escaped the tethers of the real world and traveled to a fantastical alternate universe.

  Mindy took a long breath, and the scent hit her. Her heart skipped a beat and a thrill rolled through her. Leather, soap and heat. Deke.

  Dear heavens, how could she face losing him again?

  Sprout kicked her in the side. She grunted, and Deke stirred.

  Mindy straightened, preparing to move away, but his arm tightened around her shoulders.

  “Where are you going?” he asked sleepily.

  She lifted her head. “I’m sprawled all over you. I figured you might want to change positions.”

  “Um, not right this minute. In fact, you may not want to move, either. You might be embarrassed.”

  “Why? What are you—” She stopped, because she knew what he was talking about. He was erect. The sensations her stretched-out tummy were sending her were different from her normal nonpregnant self, and so until she’d moved, she hadn’t noticed.

  Now that she had, the strangest feelings
roiled through her. Feelings that she hadn’t had for a long time. Okay, maybe she’d had them, but she hadn’t acknowledged them. From the moment she’d accepted the fact that she couldn’t live with Deke and his self-destructive ways, she’d done her best to curtail all of her feelings—bad and good.

  She’d felt as if to admit that she was sexually frustrated was to admit that she was still in love with Deke.

  So now, lying in his arms with his erection rubbing against her tummy, the feelings that had started with warmth and comfort and safety morphed into desire.

  And that was ridiculous. She was over eight months pregnant. She shouldn’t be feeling like this. In fact, according to all the books, she should be working up a good-size dose of resentment and irritation toward him right about now.

  “What are you thinking about?” Deke asked.

  Mindy’s throat seized. Did she dare tell him that she was fantasizing ways they could make love on this dirt floor?

  “Min? Everything okay?” He touched her chin with his fingertips and tilted her head so he could see into her eyes. When he did, his blue eyes widened slightly and his mouth quirked up.

  He knew. Damn him. He always knew. Once, it had fascinated her that he could tell with a glance when she was turned on.

  Now, it embarrassed her and left her feeling vulnerable. She lowered her gaze, but not in time. He made a soft growling sound deep in his throat that rumbled against her ear.

  “Min, I didn’t mean to get you involved in this.” He spoke against her hair, his breaths warming her skin.

  She nodded. “I know.”

  His fingers under her chin pressed harder, urging her head up again. “I’m so afraid I’ll hurt you.”

  She opened her mouth to offer up the standard protest, but he dipped his head and stopped her words with his lips.

  Dear God, she loved to kiss him. His kiss was a perfect reflection of who he was. Hard, determined, yet with an undertone of such gentleness that it made her want to cry with joy because he’d shared it with her.

  She needed to stop—for her own sanity. Needed to pull back, physically and emotionally, from the precipice of sublime insanity that making love with him always plummeted her over.

  He bent forward, pulling her closer, holding her mesmerized with just the touch of his mouth on hers.

  She’d gotten used to the vagaries of her hormone-suffused body, but in the entire eight months she’d been pregnant she hadn’t once had a lascivious thought. In fact some days she’d felt so uncomfortable and lonesome that she figured she’d never have sex again. And she’d been okay with that.

  But right now—

  Deke’s mouth moved over hers with the confidence and strength she’d learned to depend on, until he’d proved to her that he wasn’t dependable.

  She kissed him back. She couldn’t help herself.

  He ran his thumb across the underside of her chin and then cradled her cheek in his palm. His kiss grew deeper, more intimate, more demanding. Her heart pounded and her insides thrilled as she tasted his tongue and the inside of his mouth for the first time in way too long.

  Trailing his fingers down her cheekbone, he traced the line of her jaw. At the same time his lips slid across her cheek, caressing the tender skin in front of her ear. Deep within her core, a rhythmic throbbing began and grew, swelling like a symphony.

  Inside her, Sprout wiggled and kicked. Her deepening arousal was disturbing him. She cradled her tummy and glanced down.

  When she did. Deke pulled away. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Deke, don’t.”

  Don’t what? She couldn’t answer her own question. Don’t apologize? Don’t stop kissing her? Don’t make her remember how it felt to love him?

  Ignoring the voice in her head that told her how foolish it was to go down that road, she slid her fingers around the nape of his neck and pulled him closer.

  “Don’t apologize,” she said. “I need—” She couldn’t verbalize what she needed, but he seemed to know. With a pensive, solemn expression, he sat up and shrugged out of his shearling jacket.

  “Sit up for a minute,” he said. When she did, he placed the jacket behind her back, then leaned over her and kissed her again.

  He was so strong. She ran her hands along the corded muscles of his forearms, shivering when she encountered the damp bandage. Then her palms slid up to trace the shape of his biceps and triceps. She lifted her head and pressed her lips against his throat, feeling the pulse thrumming there.

  Balancing his weight on his arms, he lowered himself until he could nip at the curve of her jaw, at her earlobe, at the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. His breaths sawed in and out in a deep, steady rhythm that called to something visceral inside her.

  “Min?” he whispered into the curve joining her neck and shoulder. “I can stop.”

  She shook her head. “Not yet,” she murmured. “Not now.”

  He took in a deep breath that hitched at the top. “Then you’ll have to stop me before I—before I hurt you.”

  She swallowed an ironic laugh. Too late, she thought. That ship sailed a long time ago.

  Deke wanted to push away. He wanted to be the stronger one. The one who kept his head.

  But he knew he was doomed to failure. He’d never been able to resist Mindy’s soft, full mouth or her sexy, made-for-loving body. Or the sweet way she always made him feel like a hero, even though they both knew he was anything but.

  They’d been together since junior year in high school. They’d been lovers since graduation night. She knew everything about him.

  She knew where he liked to be kissed, to be touched. She knew how to bring him to the point of no return with nothing more than a brief caress of her fingers. She knew that although he’d never admit it to any of his buddies, he loved for her to touch his nipples. The sharp, erotic sensation of her fingertips and nails on them nearly sent him over the edge.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, she slid her palms down his biceps and over his pectorals. Then she rubbed his nipples until they stood erect. He gasped, and she chuckled.

  Okay, then. He knew everything about her, too. This would be tit for tat.

  Like right now. He buried his nose in the little curve between her neck and her shoulder. If he ran his tongue along the apex of her shoulder, right over the little bump covered by golden skin, she’d moan and squirm.

  He did.

  And she did.

  His throat closed with laughter—and sweet, aching nostalgia. Her hands tightened around his muscled wrists. Absently, he remembered that her fingers didn’t reach all the way around.

  He shifted his weight to his left arm and began unbuttoning the buttons at the top of her sweater. He didn’t dare look up. He was afraid of what he’d see in her eyes.

  Excitement, anticipation or apprehension?

  When she pushed his hands away, his heart sank all the way to his boots. His logical brain, however, reminded his heart that they were in this place because she was in danger, and it was all because of him.

  He had no right to take advantage of her. She was at his mercy. Dependent on him for safety, for comfort, for strength—for her very life.

  Which made her vulnerable. And he was exploiting that vulnerability by letting his body overrule his brain. What he needed to be doing right now was figuring out their next move.

  He knew perfectly well what this idyllic refuge was that they had found. It was bait—to lure them into a false sense of security.

  Novus Ordo was still out there and still plotting to wear him down, still playing cat and mouse. For the moment he’d lifted his paw, giving them a taste of freedom—a false belief that they had a chance to escape. As soon as they tried, he’d clamp down on them again.

  Her fingers brushed across his again, reminding him that his hand was resting near her breasts. He pulled away, but she stopped him. He watched with bated breath as she guided his palm to her waist, and then slid it up until his fingers curved around th
e bulge of her tummy. Against his palm, her satin-smooth skin seemed to vibrate with life—hers and the life of the tiny child inside her.

  He closed his eyes, and for a moment he existed only in the sensations that flowed through the nerve endings on his fingertips and palms. He didn’t think he’d ever felt anything so alive, so vibrant, so awesome.

  To his surprise, tears stung his eyes, so he lowered his head, unwilling to let her see his weakness. He’d never even dreamed of being a father, never once considered that a precious, innocent child could spring from these loins of his. From the same DNA that had produced his cruel dad, and himself.

  He pressed his forehead against the warm bulge of her tummy and silently prayed that one day he might be worthy of her and her baby.

  He felt the tears leaking out from beneath his lids. He couldn’t let her feel the salty drops on her skin. He hadn’t cried since he was in junior high school and his dad had showed him what happened to crybabies.

  So, under the pretense of nuzzling her tummy, he managed to wipe his eyes on the tail of her sweater.

  Her abdomen moved as she sighed. Her fingers tightened around his, and she slid his hand across the slope of her tummy and farther up, toward her breasts.

  His breath hitched and he raised his gaze. “Mindy—”

  “Hush, Deke,” she whispered. “Please don’t spoil this with logic and reason. It’s nothing more than a moment stolen out of time. It’s not like we’ve never done it before.” She made a quick head gesture toward her tummy.

  “But you’re—”

  She put her fingers to his lips. “Shh. Don’t even go there. Please don’t think. For once in your life, just feel. I need you to take me somewhere outside of here. Outside of myself, because if I keep worrying about what’s going to happen, I’ll go insane.”

  As she talked, she continued to slide his hand upward, to the underside of her breast. Then she gripped his wrist and guided him over the fullest part to the peak, pressing his fingers to her nipple. She gasped.

  And sighed again.

  Deke’s first instinct was to jerk his hand away. She was pregnant. These weren’t the small delicate breasts he’d teased and nuzzled so many times. These were big breasts, pregnant breasts. They were firm and full, and the nipple was large and erect, waiting for the hungry little mouth of her son.