Baby Bootcamp

by Mallory Kane

  Dr. Kendall read the card, then raised his gaze to Matt’s. “Why don’t you tell me what your job is tomorrow.”

  Matt wondered how much he should reveal to the doctor. “You said you’re on duty here in the E.R. this weekend? And this is the closest emergency room to Freedom?”

  Dr. Kendall nodded to both questions.

  “That’s good. There’s a definite possibility that we could have injuries. Let me go over what’s happening tomorrow.” Matt quickly explained about the threats against Governor Lockhart and the town hall meeting the governor was holding at the Talk of the Town Café.

  “There are a number of trained experts, including myself, the governor’s bodyguards and police from Amarillo, who will be on hand to help Sheriff Hale maintain order,” he finished.

  Dr. Kendall shook his head and uttered a short laugh. “Well, I do believe this is the first time I’ve had the opportunity to treat an undercover agent.”

  “Now for the other request,” Matt said.

  “All right.” Dr. Kendall pushed his glasses up on his nose and waited.

  “I’d like to ask that you not report this incident to the authorities.”

  Kendall looked dubious but not as determined as he had before. “We’re required to by law,” he said.

  “Then could you delay your report for a few days? The man who attacked me is Rory Stockett. He’s the father of Faith’s baby, but he’s also a person of interest in a couple of matters. While it would make me feel a whole hell of a lot better if he were behind bars, putting him in jail might spook the people we’re trying to catch.”

  “Sounds to me like locking him up would make Governor Lockhart a lot safer.”

  Matt nodded. “For tomorrow. But these threats have been escalating. And I can guarantee you that Stockett is small potatoes. We’re targeting the mastermind. Only when we can stop whoever’s behind the threats will Governor Lockhart be safe. And not before.”

  ON THE DRIVE BACK to the café, Faith glanced over at Matt, who was staring at the bandage on his forearm. “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “What?” he seemed to have trouble tearing his eyes away from his injured arm.

  “You and Dr. Kendall. You know I’m doing fine taking care of myself.”

  Matt’s jaw clenched. Faith could see the lights from oncoming cars playing off the clean planes of his cheek and jaw. She parked in the lot behind the café.

  “There’s such a thing as doctor–patient privilege,” she said archly, even though she knew that whatever Matt had wanted to talk to Dr. Kendall about in private had little if anything to do with her. There was something else going on.

  The moment Matt had walked in, his arm slashed and bleeding, she’d confirmed her suspicion that he was more than a drifter. Gone was the small smile, the shy ducking of his head, his graceful, lanky ease of movement.

  The man who stalked into the kitchen and ordered Valerio to pick up the knife as evidence, who’d shown an odd lack of concern over a wound that ended up taking six stitches, was no simple itinerant worker.

  No. Matteo Soarez was more than he seemed, more than he wanted her to know.

  “It wasn’t about you,” he said flatly.

  “I know that,” she snapped.

  “Dr. Kendall said he’d be on duty in the E.R. tomorrow. I wanted to give him a heads-up about the governor’s town hall meeting in case anyone gets hurt.”

  “You don’t think the governor’s staff might have already taken care of that?” She unfastened her seat belt.

  “Wait,” Matt said, laying a hand on her arm.

  Faith stopped and turned toward him. “What is it?”

  “You’re right. The governor’s staff has definitely covered everything. The reason I spoke to Dr. Kendall is because I’ve been asked to help with security for the town hall meeting. Among other things, I’ll be keeping an eye on the crowd while Governor Lockhart is speaking.”

  Matt’s tone hadn’t changed. Faith searched his face. Was he lying? It didn’t sound like a lie exactly, but it didn’t sound like the truth either.

  She was exhausted. Her feet hurt, as did her head. The baby was kicking her in the side, and Dr. Kendall’s warning about preeclampsia had frightened her. So she wasn’t in the mood to play verbal ping-pong.

  “Why you?” she bit out, hearing the faint derision that colored her words.

  Matt’s head jerked slightly, hardly enough to notice, but she saw it and felt it.

  “Why me?” he repeated on a short laugh. “The obvious. Extra muscle. And I can use the money.”

  Faith immediately regretted her attitude. “I didn’t mean—”

  Matt held up a hand. “I know. No problem.”

  “No, you don’t know. I’m too suspicious of—people.” She’d started to say men. “I tend to start out thinking the worst these days.”

  Matt’s dark eyes went soft, and his mouth relaxed into a brief smile. “I’m not Stockett,” he murmured.

  She couldn’t hold his gaze. There was a question in it, a question Faith wasn’t sure she could answer. She’d worked hard to build a life for herself and the baby she was carrying. After eight long months, she’d finally convinced herself that she could do it alone. She had the café. She had Glo, who was almost like a mother to her. She had her friends.

  What use did she have for another man who, as she’d told Glo, didn’t have two dimes to rub together?

  Matt touched her cheek with his thumb. “I understand how much he hurt you. And I know how hard it is to face becoming a mother when you’re alone. I watched my mother struggle to keep our family together after my dad left.”

  Faith lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t want—” Matt’s forefinger pressed against her lips before she could say “another drifter in my life.”

  Before she could react, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her mouth.

  To her dismay, she moaned at the feel of his mouth on hers. It was a moan of frustration, of need. Her body remembered their previous kiss and all the sensations he’d evoked in her.

  Matt pulled away, his eyes locked with hers and the question in them was unmistakable.

  Then she did something else she couldn’t believe she was doing. She leaned toward him. She kissed him, and it was no gentle kiss either.

  He gasped, then kissed her back. His mouth was firm and not quite so gentle this time.

  Unlike Rory, whose kisses had been hot and exciting and nearly frantic, Matt’s were deep and slow and infinitely more arousing.

  They felt like they came from his soul and touched hers. She felt cherished, cared-for, safe. Yet at the same time, her body flowed with desire that surpassed anything she’d ever experienced.

  “Matt?” Faith whispered against his mouth. “If—”

  For a couple of seconds, Matt continued kissing her, his hand cradling her head. Then he stopped and pulled away. His cheeks were flushed. He gave her a tender look. “Hmm?”

  Faith felt heat rush to her face, to match the heat inside her. “I said if you want we could—”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said harshly. Then his thumb slid caressingly across the line of her jaw. His face softened. “No,” he repeated gently. “Faith, I hope you can understand what I’m about to say. Maybe you won’t right now, but I hope you will soon.”

  A frisson of fear and dread slid up her spine. She recognized the tone. She’d heard it before. It was the brush-off.

  “I’m not about stealing a few kisses here and there, or quickie hookups that last only as long as I’m in town.”

  She shook her head. “So what’s the deal? You have a girlfriend? That’s okay.” She reached for the driver side door handle and opened the door.

  “Faith.” He grasped her by the arm. “Look at me.”

  She turned her gaze to his, hoping the tears she could feel gathering in her throat didn’t show in her eyes.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said, emphasizing each word. “Or a
wife.”

  “Fine,” she said flatly. She had no idea if she could trust him. The only thing she knew for certain was that she had lousy judgment when it came to men.

  What would she give to just once find that her feelings about someone were correct? To her, Matt seemed like a loyal, caring, honorable man—the kind who falls in love once and commits to that person for the whole of his life.

  She turned in the seat to climb awkwardly out of the car, muttering, “Why can’t I be right this time?”

  “What?” Matt said, opening the passenger side door and rushing around the car to take her hand and help her out. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “I was…I was talking to the baby.”

  His keen look told her that he didn’t believe that for one second.

  Faith, now that she was standing, pulled her hand away from Matt’s gentle grip, but he resisted. Instead, he tugged her along with him, up the steps and around to the kitchen door, which he opened with his key.

  Then he led her through the kitchen and up the stairs to her apartment.

  His hand cradling hers felt strong and protective—and oddly like the end of a date. At the door to her bedroom, he tugged on her hand until she turned to face him. The expression on his face seemed to be pleased and a little bit triumphant.

  “Faith,” he said, looking down at their hands, “I have something for you, and I don’t want you to even think about refusing it.”

  She couldn’t fathom what he was talking about. “Something for me? What?”

  “Just a minute.” He let go of her hand and went to the sofa that he was using as a bed. He lifted a seat cushion and retrieved a thick manila folder, then came back to stand in front of her.

  “This,” he said, holding out the folder.

  Faith stared at it uncomprehendingly. “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “This is the money to pay back your loan.”

  “Oh.” Shock sent prickles like a thousand needles through her limbs to her fingers and toes. “Oh, no.” She held up her hands, palm out. “No, I can’t take that. Oh, Matt, where did you get it?”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, still holding it out toward her. “It’s an advance on my salary, and unlike Stockett, I have total confidence that you’ll pay me back.”

  “No, Matt.” Faith shook her head. She couldn’t think straight. Matt, a nearly perfect stranger, was offering her a way out of the looming debt that Rory had gotten her into. He was offering her money to save her café.

  Matt put his finger against her lips. “Don’t argue with me. You won’t win. What time did the man say he’d be back to collect the money?”

  Faith pulled away. When Matt touched her mouth she couldn’t think. “He didn’t say.”

  “Okay. I’ve got a number that I can call. I’ll keep the cash and make arrangements to meet him. That’ll be better anyhow. I don’t like the idea of you meeting with him alone.”

  “But, Matt, I can’t pay you back. I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll work out a repayment schedule once all this town hall business is finished.”

  Faith felt tears fill her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I—”

  “Shh,” he whispered, his finger against her lips again. “You don’t have to say a word. Now get some sleep. You’ve got an incredibly busy day tomorrow.” He turned and went to the couch and began spreading out the sheets and plumping the pillow.

  Faith went into her bedroom and closed the door. She’d gotten a glimpse inside the envelope when Matt had held it out. What she’d seen had turned her legs to jelly. She’d seen more hundred dollar bills than she’d ever seen in one place in her life.

  She looked at the door, feeling Matt’s overwhelming presence in the next room. First he appointed himself her protector, then her personal warrior against Rory Stockett’s unwanted attention. And now this man who was to all accounts nothing more than an itinerant worker was bailing her out of debt.

  As tears streamed down her face, her mind was filled with one question.

  Who was Matt Soarez?

  Chapter Nine

  “So while I do not take these threats lightly, they will not sway me from my pledge to the people of the wonderful state of Texas!” At the mention of the state of Texas, the standing-room-only crowd, which filled the Talk of the Town Café and spilled out into the street, burst into cheers and applause.

  Cameras flashed and reporters clutching microphones crowded around the lunch counter, which formed a natural barrier to the makeshift stage with workers had built.

  Governor Lila Lockhart, radiating energy and confidence from the podium, paused until the noise died down. She glanced at each of the cameras in turn, allotting equal time to each network.

  Matt grimaced inwardly. He’d have preferred that she not mention the threats, and he knew Bart Bellows felt the same way. But Bellows had told him the governor was “as stubborn as a mule on a hot August day.”

  He let his gaze travel over the crowd, not zeroing in on any particular face. Trying to read faces in this crowd that were stuffed into Faith’s small diner and spilling out the doors was futile.

  Instead, he set his brain to scan for impressions. It was a tactic he’d perfected overseas—a tactic that had worked almost every time. He thought regretfully of his best friend Rusty, who had died because Matt hadn’t believed a mother with a child would plant a lethal bomb.

  Tonight he was fighting to keep his attention a hundred percent on his job. A small part of his brain kept turning to Faith.

  He was acutely conscious of where she was standing, beside the mayor, near the kitchen door. He’d done his best to get her to stay upstairs in her apartment and avoid the stress and turmoil, but she’d refused.

  This was her diner, and she was going to watch over it during the speech, she’d told him.

  Governor Lockhart hadn’t cornered the market on stubbornness.

  “This is why I’ve come back to Freedom, my hometown,” the governor continued, “to renew my promise to you, my friends and neighbors, and to the people of Texas, that I am still working for you.”

  “Liar!” Even through the cheers and applause, the single word split the air like a thunderbolt. Next to Matt, one of the governor’s bodyguards stiffened and put his hand on the taser attached to his belt.

  Cameras swerved in the direction of the outburst, and the mutterings of the crowd buzzed through the café’s dining room.

  Matt immediately zeroed in on the speaker. It was Henry Kemp. He muttered Kemp’s name and location into his com unit and received a response from Farraday, who was standing at the governor’s right side.

  “At ease,” Farraday said as the crowd noise turned to a cacophony of cheers and jeers. “Just a heckler. She’ll handle it.”

  Lila held up a hand, gesturing for quiet. She laughed easily. “And this,” she said, then paused to wait for the crowd to quiet down before she continued, “this is what I love about our great country and our great state of Texas! Any citizen has the right to voice his own opinion—even a grouchy old curmudgeon.”

  Laughter broke the tension in the room. Governor Lockhart had the crowd back—the crowd and the cameras.

  Matt turned his attention back to Henry, to see how he’d taken Lila’s subtle put-down. As he did, his brain registered something that wasn’t right. He’d seen the glint of light on cold steel.

  It took only a split second for the message from his brain of what he saw to reach his lips, but by the time it did it was already too late.

  “Gun!” he shouted as a second flash drew his eyes and the shot echoed in the confines of the café.

  A shriek of pain came from behind him, followed immediately by a shout. “Call an ambulance. We’ve got one down!”

  He didn’t have time to even turn his head to see who had been hit. Lockhart’s bodyguards were taking care of her. Matt needed to catch the shooter.

  Sudden
ly everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Every move he made was too slow. He kept his gaze on the area where he’d seen the flash as he leaped over the lunch counter into the crowd.

  “Blue baseball cap! Light blue shirt. Mustache! Behind Kemp and to his left!” He recited the description of the man he’d seen holding the gun into his com unit. “Heading for the front doors. Stop him! Don’t let him get away!”

  For a couple of seconds, he felt as if he were body-surfing as he was propelled along on the shoulders of the panicked crowd. Finally he got his feet on the floor and started moving in the direction he’d seen the baseball cap move. But the cap was nowhere to be seen. What a ridiculously simple disguise. They should have disallowed any headgear inside the café. But it was too late now.

  Behind him he heard shouts and a scuffle as the governor’s bodyguards whisked her away through the kitchen. Go with them, he silently ordered Faith.

  He pushed his way past the screaming, frightened crowd, a slow process—too slow. He should have gone out through the kitchen and around. Damn it.

  “Hale, I’ve lost him,” he said, but his com unit was buzzing with chatter. Farraday shouted orders. One of the bodyguards was groaning in pain. Deputy Sheriff Appleton was trying to calm the crowd.

  “Sheriff! Do you have him?” he shouted.

  Finally he was able to pick Sheriff Hale’s even-toned voice out of the chatter. “Negative. No sign of him.”

  A hand grabbed his arm. Matt whirled, his fists doubled, ready to fight. It was a reporter. A foam-covered microphone was thrust in his face.

  “You were on the platform with the governor. What can you tell us?”

  “Get the hell out of my way,” he growled. He pushed the microphone away and forced his way through the crowd to the door. He saw the sheriff headed his way. Matt turned the volume down on his com unit. The sheriff caught his eye and did the same.

  “Crowd’s too big and too out of control. No sense in trying to hold ’em,” Hale said.

  Matt wanted to protest. His first instinct was to round up the entire crowd and test them all for gunshot residue on their hands, but he knew the sheriff was right. Whoever had taken the shot had long since disappeared into the melee and by now could be as far as the edge of town.