Tempt the Night

by Dixie Lee Brown

  An ache formed in her chest, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Last night she’d thought—hoped—that Brady had wanted her, that the protective way he stayed by her side and anticipated her every need meant he cared about her and didn’t want her to leave. She wasn’t sure what it said that he’d left her in the middle of the night, but it felt a lot like rejection—like perhaps he’d been nice to her because that’s who he was and had nothing to do with who she was.

  Marco straightened his legs and slowly opened his eyes, so red and swollen they made Mac’s own eyes hurt. How unfair for this five-year-old to have suffered so much in his short life.

  He scooted around, and his gaze searched her face. One small finger pointed at her. “Your eyes are puffy.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure they are, just like yours, young man.” Mac rubbed his arm through the blanket. “Are you doing okay?”

  His brow wrinkled as he gave a one-shouldered shrug. “She said we’d have lots of time. Mama just got here. Why did she have to go already?” His small voice cracked.

  Mac blinked frantically to keep her tears at bay as her heart broke. “I don’t know, Marco. But I know she didn’t want to leave you, and she’ll always be with you in your heart and in your memories, watching out for you always. All you’ll have to do is think about her, and she’ll be there. You know that, right?”

  His little head nodded against the pillow. “I’m going to miss her.”

  “I know, sweetie.” Mac pressed her lips against his head.

  “Where will I go now? Who will take care of me?”

  Mac’s heart shattered the rest of the way. “I’m sure Joe will want you to stay here, at least until they find out if you have any other family. You like it here, don’t you?”

  “Are you going to stay?” His pleading eyes locked on hers.

  “Oh, sweetie. I don’t know where I’ll be going yet. I’ll be here for a few more days, but then I’ll have to go back to my life in Alaska.” Providing Nick had her problems cleared up by then.

  “Can I go with you?”

  Oh, God. She couldn’t make a promise like that. “Tell you what. Let’s hold off a few days on making any decisions for either of us. Okay? Things might look different by then.”

  A frown pulled at his lips for a second, but then his stomach growled loudly and a tiny smile worked its way over his features. “I’m hungry. Do you think I could have breakfast?”

  Hungry was good. “Of course you can.” Mac was fairly certain her appetite had gone AWOL indefinitely, but that wouldn’t stop her from making sure Marco was fed. She tossed back the covers. “I’ll throw on some clothes, go to your room, and get you some clean things. As soon as you’re dressed and presentable, we’ll go down to the kitchen and see what we can find.”

  Mac flew into her clothes and left Marco with instructions to wash his face and hands while she was gone. One floor down, she entered his room, taking a step back as she sucked in a breath. She’d known that Marco shared a room with his mother, but she wasn’t prepared to see Maria’s things strewn on the bed, hung in the closet, and littering the bathroom counter. The pain of her death permeated Mac’s soul. Was there something she could have done differently to return Marco to her before it was too late? She took a deep breath, adding that guilt to what she carried for Paddy.

  Blindly choosing pants, shirt, and underwear, she rushed back upstairs like the hounds of hell were after her, hoping she wouldn’t run into anyone and have to explain her frantic pace.

  A few minutes later, with Marco dressed and his hair combed, they went downstairs together. As they approached the dining area, she heard muffled voices, but when she and Marco stepped in the room, even that ceased. Joe, Ty, and Walker sat at one table. Brady, Logan, Rayna, and Sanchez sat next to them, and they all appeared involved in whatever conversation had been going on. A half dozen of Joe’s men, whom she’d seen helping in the aftermath of last night’s gun battle but had yet to be introduced to, ate at various tables around the room.

  The silence hung conspicuously for a few seconds, and then, as one, everyone stood and came forward to greet Marco, pat him on the back, or kneel down and give him a few words of encouragement. Tears came unbidden, but Mac smiled through them, her heart nearly bursting with pride for Joe’s team as well as for Marco, who accepted their heartfelt attention more gracefully than a five-year-old should.

  Finally, Marco took a plate and began to select from the buffet along the sideboard. Mac followed him, clutching a plate in her hands for something to hold on to, but the smell of sausage and southwestern omelets only served to start her stomach roiling. Not even Irene’s coffee and blueberry muffins could tempt her today.

  Brady came up behind her, so close his shoulder brushed her back and sent a tingle radiating through her. “Holding up okay, sugar?”

  Determined not to show how much his disappearing act had hurt and confused her, she turned partway and smiled as she met his concerned gaze. “I’m okay.”

  “You’re not eating? You have to keep your strength up, you know.” He raised one eyebrow.

  “Maybe I’ll come back a little later.” She stepped sideways as she followed Marco down the table. Since she wasn’t sure what to say to Brady, getting stuck alone with him would be totally awkward. She needn’t have worried. Just then, Joe, Walker, and the rest of the team began pushing in their chairs, clearing their dishes, and getting ready to leave.

  Brady glanced their way and frowned. “Time to go. Ty got the new recruits stopped in time, so that means the rest of us have a lot of fence to fix.” He leaned toward her and kissed her forehead, his hands never once touching her. “Take care of yourself.”

  She watched him until he disappeared from sight. Take care of yourself? She’d wanted a sign that he felt something—anything—for her that would make her choose to stay, and she’d gotten take care of yourself. Not too many ways that could be interpreted. Suddenly she yearned for fresh air—and time alone.

  A few minutes later, Darcy and Cara entered the dining area just as Marco was finishing his waffles and sausage. Darcy promised to show him how to build a volcano, and Marco, momentarily at least, forgot his grief and got enthused about the project. Between all of them, maybe they could keep him too busy to think about his mother for the next few days. Then the funeral would come along and knock him down again.

  Mac excused herself from the science project the others were animatedly discussing and headed outside for a walk. The scent of pine trees drifted in on the breeze. The temperature was on the chilly side, or maybe the chill came from stepping down off the porch and standing in the same spot where Maria had died. It was wrong for the sun to shine so brilliantly, promising another holdover summer day, when just last night war had been declared on Mac’s safe place. If not for the men fixing the fence that had been breached and the hole in Marco’s life that could never be mended, she might have believed nothing had changed.

  The dogs were loose, and they came barreling toward her as soon as she set foot out of the house. “Sit.” Joe’s command came from her left, and Dillon and Ribs immediately dropped to their haunches. “Sorry. They go crazy when they see someone who might play with them.”

  Mac smiled as she scratched the two well-behaved dogs. “Is this what you call crazy?” She glanced toward Joe and forced her smile to stay in place when she saw Brady walking beside him.

  His baggy camo pants and plain black T-shirt looked anything but plain on him. The shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, tapering nicely to his flat stomach. The sleeves expanded to encompass his biceps as they flexed. When her approving gaze reached his face, a muscle worked in his jaw and a barely noticeable grin touched his lips.

  “This is them begging someone to throw the ball. Don’t look in their eyes or you’ll fall under their spell too.” Joe shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. At that moment, his cell phone rang, and he answered it, stepping away from them to have his conversation.
>
  Brady held up an old, ragged baseball. “If you think you might be game, my arm could use a break.” He smiled in that way he had that made her feel special.

  But this time it filled her with sadness. She cleared her throat and broke the spell. “Sure. If they want to walk along with me, I’ll throw the ball for them.”

  He handed her the ball. “Walks and playing fetch. Those are their two favorite things—other than food, of course. Which way are you going?”

  Mac glanced toward the Plateau to the north. “Anywhere but there.”

  His eyes flashed with anger, but when he met her gaze again, understanding radiated from him. “There’s a nice trail along the lake. If you don’t mind me tagging along, maybe we could talk.”

  Instantly, anxiety left her throat dry. What did he have to say to her that hadn’t already been said? Was he going to ask her to leave? It was within his right. This was his home. His mixed signals had her all over the place emotionally. In one way, it’d be a relief to finally know. It was one thing, though, to assume how he felt based on his actions and body language, but another entirely to hear the icy cold words of dismissal. Still, the freedom of a walk outside the fence was too good to pass up, and the specter of Maria’s death was still too close to feel secure enough to go alone. She pasted a grateful smile in place and started to accept his offer.

  “Mac. Phone for you.” Joe strode toward her, his face a closed mask, hiding his emotions.

  “That’s impossible. Who would know to call me on your cell phone?” She snorted skeptically.

  Joe’s expression turned even more serious. “A friend of yours. Patrick Callahan.” He continued to hold the phone out to her.

  Pain knifed through her as she searched Joe’s eyes for confirmation that he was playing a very bad joke. His gaze never wavered. It took a few seconds to comprehend the meaning behind his words, and when she did, her legs gave out at the same time her heart started pounding like a bass drum. Brady caught her, and he snuggled her up tight against his chest, his arms wrapped around her stomach. She glanced nervously at Joe’s phone.

  “Breathe, Mac.” Brady’s words were authoritative . . . and kind at the same time. “Joe wouldn’t tell you it was Callahan if he didn’t have good reason to believe it was him. Right, Joe?”

  “I asked Special Agent Hanford to check on the final resting place of your friend.” Joe shrugged. “I figured someday you’d want to know. What he found was a surprise to everyone. Callahan was shot five times that night. If he hadn’t had a bulletproof vest on, he’d have never made it to the ER. As it was, he was wounded twice—once in the throat and once in the leg. Agents of the State Department, investigating Hernandez’s sudden appearance in Alaska, got him to the hospital before he bled out. Hanford couldn’t tell anyone that Callahan had survived until Hernandez was no longer a danger—not even me. But this morning he told Callahan where you were and gave him my number.”

  “But . . . he was dead . . . he . . . so much blood . . . ”

  Brady kissed the top of her head. “Sweetheart, was he alive when you escaped the warehouse?”

  She trembled violently, grateful for Brady’s protective arms around her. “I don’t know. He was . . . and then Simpson shot him point-blank. He couldn’t survive that, could he?” Mac leaned her head back and met his eyes.

  He heaved a sigh. “In Iraq, I saw people survive who didn’t have a chance in hell. It happens, Mac. If it is him, don’t you want to talk to him? We can give you some privacy whenever you’re ready.”

  Could it really be Paddy? For the first time in her life, she was having trouble coming up with the right words to say to her best friend. That just wasn’t right. She’d have to do better than that. She straightened within Brady’s arms and dried the tears that had squeezed beneath her eyelids. Brady loosened his grip, but she laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t you dare let me go. I need you—both of you. Joe, please put the phone on speaker.”

  A moment of silence passed.

  “Mac?” The voice was a slow, agonizing rasp.

  She winced, imagining the pain he must be in from the wound in his throat alone. “Paddy? Is it really you?”

  “Doesn’t sound like me . . . I know. You’re skeptical. What if I tell you that I worried about you and old man Wagner’s dumbwaiter? Knew you’d give those two morons the slip . . . but those old cables . . . and with you being so much heavier now.” He stopped, obviously waiting for her retort.

  It may not have sounded like him, but Paddy was definitely on the other end of that phone connection. She could hear the laughter in his voice, but she wasn’t going to rise to the bait—not this time. Her best friend had been given back to her, and there were much more important topics to discuss.

  Brady pulled her closer as she wiped at her tears again. “Where are you, Paddy?”

  “Hospital in Anchorage. ICU until this morning. Didn’t know if you’d made it out . . . or where you were until about twenty minutes ago. The State Department kept a lid on it until they determined the extent of corruption within the state troopers. They were after Hernandez, but I understand your friends took care of that little problem.”

  “Paddy . . . Maria’s dead.”

  He let his breath out slowly. “I know. I can’t deal with that right now. There’s something else more important.”

  She could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “Nothing is more important than your recovery.”

  “Yes, something is. I’m Marco’s father now. Maria and I were married two months ago, and I adopted him. Mac . . . I don’t know anything about being a father.”

  Joe’s eyes registered his surprise, and Brady stood up straighter, holding her steady with a hand on both sides of her waist.

  Her smile came without effort. “State Trooper Patrick Callahan . . . you’re going to make a great dad, but you’re going to regret the day you decided not to tell me about Maria.”

  A wispy laugh came over the phone. “Sure. Now you start calling me by my proper name and title—now that I’m done with the troopers.”

  “What do you mean?” The troopers had always been his dream.

  “I’m permanently disabled on their roster now, which means I’m useless to them.”

  Mac didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice. “Paddy. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not. Maybe I’ll find something that lets me use my brain and a computer instead of my brawn.”

  Joe leaned toward the phone. “Call me back when you’re ready, Callahan. I may have something you’ll be interested in.”

  “Thanks, Reynolds. I just might do that, but I’ve got a lot of recovering to do first. Mac, I’m sorry I kept you in the dark. I thought I could keep you out of Hernandez’s sights. You just went in blind instead. Will you forgive me?”

  She slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the sob that nearly choked her. It was a few seconds before she trusted her voice again. “I’ll think of some way you can make it up to me.”

  Paddy chuckled. “That’s the girl I remember. Listen, I filled in all the blanks with the troopers regarding Simpson and Gallagher, so you don’t have to worry. You’re a free woman again. One more thing. Will you watch over Marco for me until I can get on my feet?”

  “Of course. Don’t worry about anything, Paddy.”

  “I have to go, Mac. Getting dirty looks from a very pretty nurse, and I need to hit her with my charm.”

  They laughed together. God, she’d missed that.

  “I’ll call you. Are you staying put for a while?”

  “I’ll be here for a little while longer, but I’m going to call you every day. You’ll be so tired of me before I get up there to take care of you.” He’d probably laugh if she told him how lost she’d been without him until Brady bulldozed his way into her life.

  “No sense coming here yet. My parents and your parents are both here . . . trying to outdo each other to get on my nerves. Besides, my little nurse won’t let me have visit
ors. She wants me all to herself. Hey . . . give me that—”

  Paddy was gone, the connection evidently terminated by his pretty little nurse. Mac couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. She was so relieved to be out from under the guilt she’d carried since the last time she saw Paddy alive. And knowing she wasn’t wanted for murder, that she could return home anytime she wanted or visit her parents was like a fresh breeze in her soul. No doubt she’d still have to sit through her father’s grilling because he would likely never understand why his baby girl didn’t go to him for help. That was probably the real reason Paddy told her not to come yet, and she loved him all the more for it.

  Joe returned her smile as he pocketed his phone and palmed her shoulder. “That’s what you call the start of a good day.” He whistled, and the dogs jumped up to follow him as he strode toward their kennels.

  Brady’s hands were still firmly locked around her waist.

  She moved to step away from him, but he didn’t give an inch. “Thanks for staying with me, Brady. It meant a lot to me, but you can let go. I’m okay now.”

  “No. Not yet. We need to talk. We can either do it here or upstairs. Those are your choices.” Brady leaned close and breathed the last part in her ear.

  In an instant, her euphoria at finding Paddy alive was overshadowed by the talk Brady wanted to have. Of course she didn’t want to stand there, where everyone could see them and witness her humiliation, but she seemed incapable of making this tiny decision. Her feet might as well have been nailed to the turf.

  She refused to look at him, even when he stepped around in front of her. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted until she met his gaze. “What’s it going to be?”

  Mac jerked her head from his grasp and backed away. “I . . . I can’t do this right now.” She rushed up the steps and across the porch and pushed through the entrance.

  Brady caught the door before it closed, jogged a couple of steps until he was in front of her, and turned, walking backward to stay ahead of her. “What can’t you do? Are you trying to tell me you want me to leave you alone?”