A Question of Honor

by Lindsay McKenna

  Kit heard Dante swear directly below her. She gripped the granite, hugging the rock surface as pain arched through the core of her body, blanking everything else from her mind. Somewhere in the haze of agony, she heard the crack of a rifle in the humid afternoon air. Dante let out a groan and dropped to the ground.

  Gasping with relief, Kit sobbed, unable to hold on any longer, the pain tearing at her, robbing her of all senses. It felt as if she were falling in slow motion, and when she hit the earth below it was like hitting a lumpy mattress. Rolling onto her side, Kit curled into a tight ball, feeling the warmth of blood flowing down her legs. A scream tore from her as she frantically tried to keep the baby whose life hung in precarious balance within her trembling, exhausted body. Blackness engulfed her.

  Noah scrambled the last three hundred feet ahead of everyone else, leaping over the unmoving Dante to where Kit lay. When he’d seen her fall, it had torn him apart. They had called immediately for helicopter assistance, and even now, as he knelt at her side, he could hear the whapping rotor blades puncturing the air as the helicopter sped toward them.

  Noah’s hands trembled as he leaned over, barely touching Kit’s shoulder. His eyes blurred with tears as he saw blood staining the legs of her jeans, and knew…knew what was happening. Her face was pale, tense even in unconsciousness, her arms wrapped protectively around her belly.

  A sob tore from him as he dropped his rifle and gathered Kit into his arms. More sobs wrenched from deep within him as he held her while the chopper sat down on the small landing area below the cliff. Gently picking her up, Noah carried her to the helicopter and the waiting medics on board. The two men quickly laid her on a gurney. Noah climbed into the helicopter, positioning himself near Kit’s head. No one said anything as tears drifted down his face. The engine whined and the helicopter lifted off, heading for Port-au-Prince.

  Noah watched in silent horror as the two medics worked in unison. Kit lay unconscious in the severely limited space. The roar of the engine, the heaving, bucking motion of the aircraft in the thermals increased his anxiety as Noah watched them put a blood pressure cuff on her left arm. He placed a hand on Kit’s head.

  “Not good!” the first medic shouted to the second. “Seventy over fifty.”

  “Dammit!” the second medic yelled, ripping open a pouch containing an IV.

  No, Noah thought. Don’t die on me, Kit. Don’t. His hand tightened against her shoulder as he stared down at her colorless features. Tears coursed down his face and he sobbed at his helplessness as she lay bleeding. His own brush with death rushed back to him. He remembered lying on that dark deck, the life draining out of him. Noah jerked his chin up, glaring at the medics, who labored to stabilize her condition.

  “She’s pregnant,” Noah shouted over the din of the closest medic. “Can you save the baby?”

  Sweat beaded the medic’s forehead as he shot a glance up at the officer. “Don’t ask for miracles. I’ll be lucky to save her!”

  “No!”

  “We’re doing all we can!”

  Noah swallowed back a cry of sheer terror. “Then do more!” he screamed above the earsplitting sounds of the helicopter.

  The medic shoved a second IV into Kit’s other arm and took another blood pressure reading. Noah watched as the chief medic twisted around to the pilots.

  “Blood!” he yelled at them. “Tell the hospital to stand by with whole blood! We can’t stabilize her!”

  Noah groaned and leaned over, resting his sweaty brow against Kit’s limp hair. “No,” he begged hoarsely. “Don’t leave me, Kit. I love you! Fight back, dammit! You hear me? Fight back!” His hands dug into her shoulders as he willed his own vital force to flow into her limp body.

  Wave after wave of agony flowed through Kit, from the bottom of her feet up to her head. It felt like one engulfing, hot, searing pain after another. The pain centered in her lower abdomen, and in that hazy in-between state that straddles consciousness, a moan slipped from her throat. Weakly she tried to raise her hand to place it against her body. Strong, cool fingers caught her hand in midair, captured it and gently brought it back down to her side. Strength. The word, the sensation, imprinted itself on her confused state as she fought to surface, to regain consciousness. The pain reminded her of her baby. A baby who had been created out of love. A frown formed on her brow and she moved her head slowly from side to side as if to deny what her aching body was telling her.

  “No,” Kit mewed weakly, “no…”

  A cool hand touched her brow and she felt some semblance of steadiness. Kit stopped mumbling and concentrated on that hand that stroked her hair, bringing a balm to her tortured state. “My baby…my baby.”

  As he leaned closer, Noah’s features reflected the anguish he heard in Kit’s voice. He glanced up at the doctor standing on the other side of her bed.

  The physician gave a brief nod. “Just stay with her, Lieutenant Trayhern. She’s regaining consciousness. I’ll send a nurse to check on her in half an hour. If you need anything, just press that buzzer.”

  Tiredly Noah sank into a chair next to Kit’s bed. “She’ll be okay now?” he asked. His voice was a monotone; it sounded as if it belonged to someone else.

  “She lost over two pints of blood, Lieutenant. For someone in her condition, that’s plenty. We’ve replaced the blood. The rest is up to her body. She’ll be coming around shortly. Just stay with her.”

  Noah anxiously searched Kit’s pale features. Had it been only two hours ago that he had held her on that rocky outcrop far above the ocean? He wiped his watering, bloodshot eyes and searched her taut face. Kitten, sweet, harmless kitten. I love you. No matter what happens now, just know I love you. His long fingers trembled as he stroked her cheek in a caressing gesture meant to give comfort. Kit had almost died.

  He shut his eyes tightly, more tears squeezing from beneath his dark lashes. She could have been cold-bloodedly murdered by Dante, who was now dead. Or if he’d missed the long-range shot, Kit could easily have been killed by Noah himself.

  A ragged sigh tore from Noah as he raised his head and studied her in the dim light. He cupped her cheek and leaned over, placing a small, tremulous kiss on her cool, unmoving lips. So much else could have happened. But she was alive, and he was alive, and the threat of Garcia and Dante had finally been removed.

  “Come back,” he called softly, “Kit, come back. Come on, be here with me. It’s all right, honey. I love you.”

  Noah’s voice penetrated the fog that enveloped Kit. She opened and then closed her mouth. The name Noah formed on her lips. Her eyelids were simply too heavy to raise, but she felt his mouth upon hers: warmth against cold, life against death, love against loneliness. Another tidal wave of pain forced her into a greater state of wakefulness. A moan came from deep within her throat.

  “Noah?”

  “Right here, Kit.”

  His voice was unsteady and thick with tears. Her own tears slid down the sides of her face and soaked into the black hair at her temples. Slowly Kit opened her left hand, clasping Noah’s strong, warm one. She forced her eyes open, and saw that Noah’s skin was tautly drawn over his cheekbones, the corners of his mouth tucked in with pain, and his eyes…oh, God, his eyes mirrored anguish.

  More tears slid down her cheeks and Noah made an effort to dry them with his fingers. Kit forced herself to turn her head. The pain was so great that it hurt to move.

  “The pain’s worse?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  Kit bit down on her lip, barely managing a nod. “Noah—our baby…” she cried softly, gripping his hands. “Our baby…did I lose her?”

  Noah leaned close, kissing her tear-soaked lashes, his breath moist against her face. “You’re still carrying our baby, honey. It was close. The doctors say you have to be very still and rest.” He carefully gathered her limp form into his arms, holding her gently. “I love you so much, Kit,” he rasped. “I have for the longest time, but I couldn’t say anything.” He kissed her damp temple. �
�Neither of us could admit it.”

  Relief jagged through Kit. Their baby was safe! She was too weak to lift her arms to put them around Noah’s shoulders, but she rested her hands against his arms. “I love you,” she whispered.

  As carefully as he could, Noah laid Kit back down. He rested one arm near her shoulder, his other hand stroking her hair. Her eyes were like soft gray diamonds. “You’re going to be the mother of our child, Kitten.” His voice caught. “There’s nothing else I want in this world but the two of you. Understand?”

  Kit closed her eyes. “I—I lied to you, Noah—”

  “I know why you lied, honey. And I understand.”

  Her eyes widened as his hushed words were soaked up into her heart. He was telling her the truth. Kit could see hope flickering in the depths of his green gaze. Her heart contracted with relief, with love for his understanding. “I had to make sure Garcia and Dante were apprehended, or we’d never have a life of our own. I—I thought I was going to die out on that cliff, Noah. How did you know what happened in the cove?”

  He took a deep, unsteady breath. “Chuck told me everything. Including the fact that you were pregnant. I know you tried to do the best you could under the circumstances.” Admiration shone in his eyes. “You possess a kind of courage I’ve rarely seen, Kit.”

  She closed her eyes, moving her hand across her belly. “Not courage,” she said softly, slurring the words. “I fell in love with you, Noah, and I wanted a decent life for us. My courage was nothing more than surviving to make that dream come true.”

  Noah stood there, watching her fall into a deep, uninterrupted sleep. Gently he placed his larger hand over her smaller one covering her abdomen. “Always dream for us,” he told her softly.

  Epilogue

  A mournful meow split the quiet of the house. Kit gasped, rushing from the kitchen and hurrying into the living room, wiping her damp hands on her apron.

  “Melody Sue Trayhern!” she scolded softly. Stifling a laugh, Kit lifted her fifteen-month-old daughter into her arms, rescuing Tuna Boat from further attack.

  Tuna lifted her head, offering Kit a pitiful look that asked, Why won’t she leave me alone? Kit returned her attention to her dark-haired daughter, ready to deliver a gentle reprimand. But one look into those wide, heart-stealing green eyes and Kit relented as usual. Nuzzling Melody, she gave her a kiss on the cheek and held her tightly to her chest.

  “What am I going to do with you, squirt?” she whispered, smiling down at her. Kit was forever stunned by how much Melody resembled Noah. It was true that Melody had Kit’s black hair, but those wide, guileless green eyes and her laughter-filled smile were Noah’s. Kit scowled, trying to make her daughter realize that she couldn’t keep stalking Tuna Boat.

  “Now listen, young lady, you’re not supposed to pick on poor blind cats. Do you hear me?”

  “Kitty?”

  Kit suppressed a smile that was begging to be released. “Yes, kitty. You pet her, Melody. Tuna Boat isn’t one of your stuffed animals, honey. She’s alive and sometimes she doesn’t want to be held, even if you want to hold her.”

  Melody’s attention zeroed in on the front door as it opened. Kit rolled her eyes. Everything she had just said to Melody had gone in one ear and out the other! But her smile broadened as she saw Noah step into the foyer. Her heart somersaulted, as it always did, when he greeted her with that devastating smile of welcome.

  Kit rocked Melody in her arms, watching as Noah eased through the tangle of welcoming animals. He dropped his hat on the desk and made his way down the hall, careful where he placed his feet. She marveled at how much more handsome he had become with each day, each month of their marriage.

  “What’s this, a conspiracy in the living room?” he teased, leaning over and placing a kiss on Kit’s lips. He lingered a moment longer. “Mmm, you taste good, Mrs. Trayhern. You been nibbling on an apple, maybe?” His green eyes glimmered with a tender smile.

  “It’s about all I can keep down.”

  Noah placed his arm around Kit, leaning over her shoulder and ruffling his daughter’s curly hair. “What have you been up to, Melody?” he asked, lifting one tiny hand. “Gray cat fur?” And then he raised an eyebrow, giving a very unhappy Tuna Boat an understanding look.

  “She was after Tunie—àin,” Kit muttered, handing Noah his daughter. “Here, you talk to her while I finish getting our supper ready.”

  Noah hugged Melody with a fierce growl. His daughter squealed with delight, stretching her arms upward. Noah held Melody at arm’s length as he followed Kit into the kitchen.

  “Tuna is not a stuffed toy,” he told her, planting a kiss on her brow.

  Melody giggled, happy to be nestled against her father’s broad shoulder, her small, pudgy arm encircling his neck. Noah gave his daughter a good-natured smile. He slipped his free arm around Kit’s waist as she stood at the drain board, making his nightly salad to accompany his meal.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, some of the teasing leaving his voice.

  Kit felt her heart contract with love as he pulled her against his strong, steady body. Closing her eyes, she allowed him to take her full weight for a moment.

  “Exhausted,” she admitted, and then lifted her chin, meeting his worried gaze. “But deliriously happy.”

  A smile edged his sensual mouth. “It’s getting close to the fourth month. That nausea ought to be stopping soon. You can’t keep eating apples and crackers forever.”

  She grinned. “Have I turned into one yet?”

  Leaning down, Noah placed a kiss on her parting lips. “Never,” he whispered against her. “But you do taste sweet.” He inhaled her feminine fragrance and sighed deeply. “God, how I love you,” he told her thickly.

  Melody squirmed, giggling in Noah’s arm and forcing him to give her all his attention. Noah spotted Tuna Boat at the kitchen entrance and a gleam came to his eye. Putting Melody down, he pointed toward Tuna.

  “Go pet kitty for a moment, squirt,” he urged, winking up at Kit, who was standing there shaking her head.

  “Kitty?”

  “That’s right, honey. Go pet Tunie. She’ll love it.”

  Happily Melody toddled through the kitchen calling, “Kitty, kitty, kitty….”

  With an unhappy yowl, Tuna Boat promptly did an about-face and left for parts unknown.

  Kit dried her hands on the apron and then threw her arms around Noah’s shoulders. “You’re terrible! Using poor Tunie like that.” She laughed, pressing her body against his hard length.

  Noah grinned, leaning down, claiming her lips in a hot, provocative kiss that made her entire body yearn with desire for him. He drew away, laughter lurking in the depths of his sea-green eyes. “I guess I should feel guilty.”

  “But you don’t.”

  Grinning, he said, “No, I don’t.”

  Kit gave him a warning look. “That smart little daughter of ours is going to catch on to your trickery, Noah Trayhern.”

  Noah produced an innocent expression. “All I’m doing is practicing military tactics—a diversionary measure for a moment so I can take my beautiful, pregnant wife into my arms for a well-deserved welcome home kiss.”

  She laughed with him as he rocked her gently in his arms. “One of these days your deceit is going to be rewarded,” she threatened softly, nuzzling his ear.

  A low growl vibrated from within him as he ran his splayed fingers down across her swelling belly. His mouth caressed her awaiting lips, tasting deeply of her. Finally he drew away, his green eyes stormy with desire. “We’re going to be rewarded again for the love we hold for each other, Kitten,” he said huskily.

  Her black lashes fell against her flushed cheeks and a sigh of happiness escaped her wet, throbbing lips. One month after nearly losing her life and Melody, they had been married. And four months after that, their daughter had been born. Kit sighed in memory of those beautiful months waiting for her child. Noah had been with her in the delivery room, and the tears they’d
shed together had been ones of pure happiness. Noah was life. He gave life. He shared it with her, Melody and now another baby, who rested within her body. When Kit reopened her eyes, they shimmered with unshed tears and met his deep, loving gaze. “Living with you is all the reward I’ll ever need, darling,” she told him in a trembling voice filled with love.

  Noah’s embrace tightened, and he held her, never wanting to let her go. “Never stop dreaming for us, Kitten,” he said, kissing her gently.

  Excerpt from The Loner

  A loner suffering from PTSD, former Marine Dakota Carson is wary of teaming up with the beautiful Deputy Shelby Wolfe. But when two convicts escape from prison, Shelby’s ability to track them is invaluable, and her healing touch is a balm to the wounded Dakota. Can old wounds heal before it’s too late? Read on for a sneak peek of THE LONER by Lindsay McKenna, coming July 2013 from Harlequin.

  “He’s right about that,” Shelby muttered. “I want to track those two and land their asses back into federal prison like I did before.”

  Dakota respected her decision. “I’m having a helluva time looking at your natural blond hair and grasping the fact you tracked them down.” Giving her an uneven grin, Dakota added, “That’s a backhanded compliment, Shel. Old dogs like me have to learn new tricks. Tracking isn’t a gender skill. I’m just too used to working with the men of my SEAL team. It just never occurred to me a woman could do it, too.”

  Her shoulders slumped, the tension bleeding out of her. “Tomorrow, we need to start sniffing around, Dakota. I want to find them. My gut tells me they’re going to hole up in the Tetons.”

  Nodding, he said, “Bingo. Welton hid in the mountains of Yellowstone. The last stolen car has put him in our vicinity. We’ll go see Cade tomorrow and start creating a mission plan to locate them.”

  She saw the commitment in his eyes. “Are you really going to sleep outside every night?”