Egan Cassidy's Kid
Page 13
“But you weren’t the one harboring deadly secrets,” he said. “I was the one who had no right to become emotionally involved, to chance creating a child. I knew I couldn’t fall in love and marry and have children. Cullen was always breathing down my neck. Just waiting for the opportunity to use a woman—or a child—against me.”
“Oh, Egan.” Maggie gulped down the tears that threatened her. “How terribly unfair life has been to you. And all because you exposed that monster for what he was…for what he still is.”
“Don’t think about Cullen.” Egan lifted his head enough so that he could kiss her cheek. Her jaw. The spot below her ear. “I’ll make sure he’s never a threat to you or Bent again.”
Maggie understood what Egan was telling her, that he would have to face his enemy and destroy him. The gentle side of Maggie’s nature abhorred the thought of Egan killing another human being. But the protective, maternal instincts that were equally a part of her nature wanted Grant Cullen dead.
“Do you think someone will explain the situation to Bent?” Maggie asked. “He must be awfully confused. I hope—” her voice cracked with emotion. “I know he’s fourteen, but he’s still just a little boy in so many ways.”
“Ellen will give him an explanation,” Egan said. “Probably the condensed version, but enough so that he won’t wonder why Cullen kidnapped him. And she’ll assure him that I’ll get you safely back to him.” Egan caressed Maggie’s belly, his hand moving in wide circles from waist to thighs. “Tell me about my son. Please.”
Maggie breathed deeply, then exhaled on a long, slow sigh. “You saw him today. Don’t you think he resembles you a great deal?”
“He’s my spitting image,” Egan agreed. “Except he’s prettier than I ever was. Got that from you. That natural glamour.”
“He inherited your adventurous streak. Sometimes his fearlessness scares me to death. You know what a cautious person I am.” Except when it came to loving Egan, she thought. Then she was totally reckless and took enormous risks. In the past. But what about now? She had given him her body, freely, lovingly, last night. But could she truly take a life-altering chance and give her heart to this man? Was he capable of living a normal life? Without danger and excitement? Without adventure and risk?
“He’s a good kid, though, isn’t he?” Egan asked.
“Oh, yes. Bent is a really good kid. He’s kind and considerate and loving. And he’s always been my little man.” Tears gathered in Maggie’s eyes. “I suppose he somehow felt that he had to take care of me because his father wasn’t… Even when I was married to Gil, Bent looked out for me. If Gil and I ever argued, Bent was always ready to come to my defense.”
“If it hadn’t been for me…if I hadn’t shown up in your life, you’d have married Gil and lived happily ever after.” Egan clutched Maggie to him, a purely possessive gesture. “And Bent would have been his son, not mine. I really screwed things up for you, didn’t I?”
Maggie wriggled around, reversing her position and shedding several shielding branches in the process, until she lay facing Egan. The glimmering moonlight cast shadows across their bodies and allowed her to see the dark silhouette of Egan’s face. She burrowed her head against the side of his neck and wrapped her arm around his waist.
“I don’t know how my life would have turned out if you’d never been a part of it,” she said, her soft voice laced with emotion. “But no one, least of all Gil, could have given me a son half as wonderful as Bent.”
“Ah, Maggie. Sweet Maggie mine.”
His lips sought and found hers in the darkness. Tender passion.
A soothing balm to Egan’s wounded soul. An unspoken confession from Maggie’s heart. When the kiss ended, they held each other, seeking warmth and comfort.
“Bent was a big baby. Nine pounds and ten ounces. And twenty-two inches long,” Maggie said. “And man did he have an appetite.” She laughed. “He still has a ravenous appetite. I can’t fill him up. We can finish dinner and within two hours, he’s back in the kitchen fixing himself a couple of sandwiches and getting another helping of dessert.”
“He’s a big boy. Close to six feet. Right?”
“Right. And he’s healthy and intelligent and good at sports. Baseball and softball are his favorites. You should see his collection of baseball cards. If we traded them in, we could afford to send him to college from the proceeds.”
“What’s he interested in doing with his life? I mean, when he finishes high school?”
“Well, his future plans change on a fairly regular basis. One month his plans are to get a baseball scholarship and eventually play in the major leagues. Then another month, he talks about being a psychiatrist and helping people like his uncle Bentley. Several times he’s mentioned he might like a military career, but when he sees that his talking about being a professional soldier upsets me, he changes the subject.”
“When this is all over…when Cullen is no longer a threat—” Egan paused. His voice lowered and softened. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d very much like the opportunity to get to know my son, to be a part of his life.”
Maggie’s heartbeat accelerated. Did she want Egan in her life on a permanent basis? Could they build a relationship on passion? Or on their shared parenthood? Egan was asking to be a part of Bent’s life, not a part of hers, she reminded herself. But didn’t the one include the other?
“I won’t try to keep you and Bent apart,” she said. “Now that you are aware of his existence, whatever relationship you form with Bent will be up to you and him.”
“Does he hate me? If you’ve told him that I deserted you when you were pregnant, then he must—”
“He doesn’t hate you. But he doesn’t know you.” Maggie reverted to her original position, turning her back on Egan. “You’ll have to earn his trust and his friendship.”
“You don’t have any objections?”
“Why should I? You are his father.”
Egan laid his hand over Maggie’s waist and pulled her body closer until they were once again nestled snugly together. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Swirling mists surrounded Maggie, like mountaintop fog, thick and damp and grayish white. Egan was with her, his big, hard body hovering over her, his lips seeking, his sex probing. The ecstasy of their joining splintered through her body, sending waves of pleasure into every fiber of her being.
Suddenly Egan was gone and she was alone. So alone. Her hand settled over her swollen belly. No, not alone. Egan had left her with his child. The man she loved was lost to her forever, but she had his baby, growing inside her. Safe. Secure.
And then Bent lay in his mother’s arm, tiny and sweet-smelling, as only infants can be. She held him to her breast and his eager little mouth latched on greedily. If only Egan were here. If only he could see his son. Egan! her heart cried. Please, come back.
From out of nowhere Grant Cullen appeared and wrenched Bent from Maggie’s arms. He kicked her aside when she tried to fight him. He held Bent by the back of his little cotton pajamas and dangled him over the edge of a fiery precipice. She begged and pleaded and bargained with the inhuman devil, but all he did was laugh at her. Shrill, maniacal screeches.
Maggie tried to move, tried to reach out for Bent, but she found herself bound and gagged, rendered helpless to defend her baby.
Egan! Help us, Egan! Help us!
But Egan was not there. He wasn’t going to come to their aid. He wasn’t going to save Bent.
Cullen released his hold on Bent and his round, little body began a headlong fall into the volcanic depths.
No! Maggie screamed. Egan!
She woke with a start, Egan hovering over her, shaking her gently. She stared up at his dark silhouette and for one brief moment was lost between the nightmare and reality.
“Maggie, honey, what’s wrong? You were screaming and saying my name.”
She sat up and scooted away from him, then gulped down air as she tried to take control of her wild thoughts a
nd frazzled nerves. “Dream,” she said. “No, not a dream. A nightmare. Bent was…Bent was a baby and Cullen took him from me and—”
Egan laid two fingers over Maggie’s lips, silencing her. “It’s all over. Bent is safe. Cullen will never get near him again.”
“Oh, Egan, I kept calling for you. I needed you. We needed you and you weren’t there. You didn’t help us. Bent…Bent—” Maggie sucked in quick, harsh breaths. “Cullen threw Bent into a fiery hole. My baby. My baby! And you weren’t there. Where were you, Egan? Why didn’t you help us?”
Shedding the blanket of branches, Egan reached out for Maggie. She fought him as he jerked her into his arms, but he held her, allowing her to struggle and cry and vent her anger. She fought like a madwoman until she exhausted herself and fell limply against Egan. He encompassed her within his embrace and stroked her back tenderly.
Maggie lifted her arms, twining them around Egan’s neck. “You didn’t come back.” Clinging to him, she sobbed quietly.
Egan’s heart ached with a desperate need to console Maggie, but he knew only too well that he was powerless to ease her pain. All he could do was hold her, protect her and continue reassuring her. She had lived through hell, through a mother’s darkest, most twisted and evil nightmare. What had he expected, that Bent’s kidnapping would leave no scars on her kind, gentle soul?
Losing track of time, he held Maggie until she finally fell asleep in his arms. He wriggled around, easing Maggie along with him, until he could lean against the rock wall of the boulder. As she slept soundly, he prayed her sleep would remain undisturbed.
Her dream—her nightmare—had revealed her heart’s fears, her repressed memories. But he understood the depth of her hatred and anger—both directed at him. Fifteen years ago when he had left her, he had thought he was doing the right thing. He had truly believed he was protecting her. But he hadn’t known about the child. God, how she must have hated him for leaving her pregnant! How long had she waited for him to return? How many years had she spent expecting him to come back to her and claim his son?
You didn’t come back. Her accusatory words echoed inside his head. She had waited for years. And when she’d given up hope, she had married Gil. He realized now what he’d done to Maggie and why, even if she loved him, she would never be able to forgive him.
He had left her without giving her the true reason and by doing so had given her false hopes. And by not telling her about the threat Grant Cullen posed, he had put both Maggie’s life and their son’s life in danger.
Oh, Maggie, my love, you didn’t deserve the hand fate dealt you. You deserve a better man, one who has never broken your heart and shattered your life.
I will never hurt you again. I promise.
Maggie awoke slowly, leisurely, stretching out on the survival bed. As her mind begin to clear, she remembered where she was. She searched the bed for any sign of her companion. He wasn’t there!
“Egan!”
Remnants of her nightmare remained clearly in her mind, as did her furious struggle with Egan when he’d tried to calm her. What had she said to him? Try to remember, Maggie. Try to remember!
Egan approached the boulder, his hands filled with edible berries and nuts. “Were you calling for me? I’d gone out to collect our breakfast.”
He knelt in front of her and held out his harvest. “If we could build a fire, I’d catch some fish. But to be on the safe side—”
“Do you think Cullen is still following us?”
“Maybe. I don’t think so, but we can’t afford to take any chances.”
“How much longer will we be wandering in the wilderness? Shouldn’t we be close to finding a town by now?”
“Hold out your hands,” he instructed. “Let’s eat and then we can wash up in the stream and—”
“How much longer?” Her exasperated expression added strength to her demand.
“I should have you back in civilization by nightfall.”
She held out her hands. He dumped half the nuts and berries into her open palms. Their gazes met and locked. Maggie’s eyes questioned him, but he wasn’t quite sure what she was asking.
“Unless I’ve read my directions wrong, going by the sun and the growth signs of the trees and the location of the stars last night, we can head that way—” he indicated with his index finger “—this morning and be reasonably sure we’re going northwest. If we don’t run into any trouble, and don’t take too many rest stops—”
“What sort of trouble?”
“I wasn’t referring to Cullen,” he told her, then picked out several berries and popped them into his mouth.
“Egan, about last night…about my nightmare—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he said. “Having a crazy, mixed-up dream about Bent being in danger from Cullen was perfectly normal, after what happened at the fort. And wanting to beat the hell out of me was just as normal. After all, I’m the reason Bent was kidnapped and you and he were almost killed.”
“I’m sorry about the way I reacted.” She wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him that she didn’t blame him. She knew he had saved her life and Bent’s.
“My feud with Cullen put our son’s life in danger. That was my fault. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one with all the regrets, the one who’s at fault.”
“You saved us.”
“I saved you from a danger that I had created.” He rose to his feet, turned his back to her and stomped toward the stand of evergreens.
What was he thinking? Maggie wondered. How did he truly feel about her? About his son? He had done what any honorable man would have done—whatever was necessary to protect his child and that child’s mother. He’d made it perfectly clear that he wanted a relationship with Bent, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was included, did it? She had fooled herself once, when she’d been younger and much more naive about men and about love. She had thought because Egan had made love to her that he loved her and would want her to be his wife. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. She could not allow herself to assume anything when it came to Egan Cassidy’s emotions.
Hurriedly Maggie picked out the berries, held them in one hand and tossed the nuts to the ground. Filling her mouth with the sour fruit, she munched and then swallowed. Nourishment was nourishment, she told herself. She certainly wasn’t going to starve to death.
She rose to her feet, then brushed green spruce needles from her clothes. “I need to…er…to…you know.” She cleared her throat. “Then I’ll be ready to leave.”
“Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I’ll wait here for you and then we’ll head toward the stream. We can clean up, drink our fill and then be on our way.”
She didn’t like this tension between them, but how could she defuse it? Her nightmare had somehow created a wall between them—an invisible barrier formed from her anger and fear and his guilt and regret.
Maggie scurried into the wooded area to relieve herself, then returned hurriedly and placed a smile on her face as she approached Egan. All she could do now was reach out to him with warmth and pleasantness. But would he accept her cordiality, after she had furiously attacked him last night?
“Ready,” she said.
Without a smile, he inclined his head and gestured for her to follow him. Her heart ached. She wanted to beg him not to shut her out this way, not to close down his emotions and pretend he didn’t care. Maybe he doesn’t care, an inner voice nagged. Maybe he’ll be glad to see the last of you. No, you’re wrong! He does care. He does.
Egan purposefully slowed his gait, allowing Maggie to keep pace. He had pushed her yesterday, out of necessity, but today he could go easy on her. If Cullen hadn’t caught up with them by now, the odds were that he’d given up and was at this very minute plotting a way to find them before they left Arizona.
But surely Cullen knew that he would come after him, that since he had kidnapped Bent, there would be no place he could hide. And Egan had no intention of sending Maggie and B
ent home. Not until Cullen was no longer a threat to them. He’d find a safe place for them. A secret sanctuary. And once Cullen had been eliminated, he would take Maggie and her son home where they could resume their normal life. And if Bent wanted him to be a part of that life, he would do everything within his power to build a relationship with the boy. But he would make no demands on Maggie, no requests. He would never do anything to hurt her—not ever again.
He couldn’t bear to think about the way she had cried out for him, the way she’d said, you didn’t come back. She had suffered enough at his hands. Asking for forgiveness would never be enough. He couldn’t give her back those lost years of waiting and hoping for a man who hadn’t returned. He couldn’t undo the past. But he could protect her now—protect her from him.
Ellen Denby punched the End button on her cellular phone and slid the phone into her vest pocket. “That was Sawyer MacNamara. The siege at Cullen’s fort is over. Thirty-five Ultimate Survivalists surrendered this morning, but Grant Cullen and Winn Sherman weren’t among the captured.”
“So, Cullen’s escaped,” Hunter Whitelaw said.
“Bastard’s tracking Egan.” Joe Ornelas slammed his big fist down on the table, rattling their breakfast dishes.
“Maybe,” Ellen said, casting a glance at Bent Douglas, who lay on the sofa in their Flagstaff hotel suite, his hands crossed under his head. He hadn’t moved a muscle, but she sensed that he was listening to every word they said. “If Egan hasn’t shown up by tonight, we’ll see if we can’t get a search party organized. Maybe the feds can spare MacNamara and he can arrange for a few local boys to help out.”
“Do y’all think something has happened to my mother and…er…Mr. Cassidy?” Bent asked.
“Not really,” Ellen assured him. “I’d lay odds that Cassidy will show up by nightfall. He’s taken his own sweet time coming down off the mountain because he’s been outfoxing Cullen.”
“But if they don’t contact you by—”
Bent’s question ended abruptly when Ellen’s cellular phone rang again. Both Dundee agents, as well as Bent, focused their attention on Ellen, each holding their breath, waiting for word on Egan and Maggie.