by Tina Leonard
A Man of Honor
by
TINA LEONARD
(SILHOUETTE INTRIGUE)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
As a child, Tina Leonard cut her teeth on Alfred Hitchcock black-and-white TV programmes, enjoying late-night summer episodes with her stepmother, Judy. To this day, Tina has an affinity for the old, scary movies--the spookier, the better! Tina in person is a
self-avowed coward, however. The only brave thing she has ever done is scare a large rat away from an open car door! She eschews the blood-and-guts films and books, preferring instead more psychological ones, and believes fervently that the most compelling part of any good romantic mystery is the timeless and magical love between a man and a woman.
Tina Leonard on the most romantic gift or gesture she has ever received: "My husband used to drive five hours on Friday nights to see me and then five hours back home on Sundays. I think that's when I knew I would have to move closer to him--had to get him off the road!"
A tip for readers to make their lives more romantic: "My husband likes it when the kids and I sneak a card into his suitcase when he goes on a business trip. I love it when my husband brings home a bouquet of flowers."
The most romantic place she's ever been: "We spent our honeymoon in Key West, Florida. It was wonderful!
We flew into Miami and drove down to the Keys. It's so peaceful there!"
Many thanks to my father, Tom Sites, for his military advice and plotting assistance.
Also my mother, Sylvia Kalberer, who liked this story from the start.
Lisa and Dean, I love you. Thanks for always being supportive of "Mumsie."
To Denise O'Sullivan, thanks for believing in this book from the start, and Natashya Wilson, more thanks than I can possibly give you for helping me make it what I wanted it to be.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Prologue
For each man must look into his own soul
John F. Kennedy, Profiles in Courage
The north Texas night was colder than most, stinging Cord Greer's face as he went out into the February storm to get firewood. Sleet-driven wind slashed across his cheeks, but he merely lowered his black Stetson a little more and tried to ignore the chilling sensation that had been bugging him for the past two hours.
Something was wrong. He could feel it as surely as the ice storm gripping Crookseye Canyon. What really had his skin creeping was that he'd only had this feeling once before, when his brother Hunt, had been in a car crash. It was as if Cord had felt the impact himself
that night. Hunt walked away from the crash, but Cord could still remember the peculiar sensation that he'd been right there in the car with his brother.
Tonight he'd felt another kind of impact. This one closed over him with dark fingers of dread as his soul experienced a rending, a tearing of one half from the other.
He shook it off, telling himself the storm - and too much time alone on his ranch - was making him imagine things.
Being half Navajo didn't necessarily make him a mind reader, as some people seemed to think. But he did feel deeply, a trait he'd had all his life.
Taking an armload of firewood inside, he tried to force his mind off Hunt's latest secret assignment.
Ten minutes later, the knock at his front door came as no surprise.
Though he'd been dozing in the recliner in front of a crackling fire, his mind had been waiting. He got up reluctantly, bracing himself for what he knew he would hear.
Opening the door, he stared at the two men standing in the bitter black night. Framed by the yellow light from the porch lantern, they looked serious and official.
"Mr. Greer?"
Official-looking identification flashed at him, which Cord ignored. He kept his gaze fastened on the men instead, nodding once.
"We regret to inform you that your brother was killed tonight while on a sensitive assignment. Though we can't divulge more than that at the present time, you may rest assured that your brother. Hunt Greer, died an honorable death."
He let a moment pass.
"You're positive it was my brother?"
"Yes," the tall man assured him.
The fools. Whom did they think they were kidding?
Hunt wasn't dead. Cord had felt something strange, an odd passing through his soul, but not the disconnection he would feel if Hunt was dead. He waited, his jaw tight.
His silence appeared to unnerve the smaller officer.
"We would like to inform the fiancee." He checked his paper.
"She should be notified. Regretfully, we don't have her location."
You never will. Cord vowed. He wouldn't allow these two lame excuses to go to Tessa's door and frighten her out of her wits with their lack of emotion. Regret to inform you. She was carrying Hunt's child, and the shock these unfeeling clods would give her could cause harm.
"I'm sorry," he said with a shrug. "I'm not aware other location myself." He told the lie easily to spare her the pain.
The men shifted.
"You don't know where your brother's fiancee is?" the taller man asked, his voice edged with surprised disbelief - and obvious disappointment.
Cord noted the foreign accent, possibly Mexican, Spanish more likely.
"No, I don't," he said softly, his voice clear and hard as the ice forming on the streets.
"My brother and I weren't close."
He shut the door. Oh, he'd known where Tessa was almost every time she rendezvoused with Hunt after he completed his assignments. Cord had pleaded with Hunt not to take his fiancee to places that teemed with unrest, pointing out that he risked her life as well as his. Should some subversive foreign faction ever figure out Hunt was breaking their codes and moving equipment and people in and out of high-risk positions, he would be at risk. Tessa might even divert his attention, getting both of them killed.
Nonsense, Hunt had laughed. Tessa and Hunt, two people who lived life to the fullest while Cord stayed on his ranch, watching after his cattle and tending a few crops. Hunt was an adventurer, and Tessa had caught his fever.
"Having her with me sharpens my focus," he'd told Cord. "I'm knife aware when she's there. She makes every moment that much more denned."
Cord had turned away, but not in disgust at his brother's selfishness.
He'd completely understood. Tessa was the kind of woman any man would want to protect, to give all his heart and soul.
She'd stolen Hunt's heart the first time he met her - and then she'd stolen Cord's.
Chapter One
"Who is it?" Tessa called as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. Running a fast hand over her hair, she cautiously waited at the door.
Who could be knocking this late at night?
"It's Cord, Tessa."
Her heart plummeted with dread the moment she heard his deep voice.
There was only one reason Cord would show up on her doorstep without calling, only one mission that would bring him to her house despite the hour.
Hunt. She'd been fearing the worst, and clearly, the news Cord had about his brother was too serious for a phone call.
Swallowing tightly, she opened the door to stare at him. His darkly handsom
e face was drawn and worried.
"May I come in?"
"Of course." She stepped back, drawing her robe tightly around her with fingers that clenched the soft velour lapels for nervous support.
Closing the door behind him, he said, "Tessa"
"Cord. Please. Just tell me. Don't try to spare me."
She was speaking too fast, but Tessa couldn't stand the tension knotting her insides.
"Two men came to my house tonight. They claimed they had news about Hunt, but..." He squinted at her as he considered his next words.
"I had the strangest hunch they were really looking for you."
"Looking for me?" She sank into an overstuffed chair covered with a bright tropical fabric and motioned Cord to sit in the wicker chair across from her.
"Their story was that they had come to tell me Hunt was dead."
"Oh, no!" Even though she expected the worst, hearing it shattered her. Tears instantly burned her eyes.
"Wait." He held up a hand. "Tessa, I can't quite put my finger on it, but there was something off about their story."
"What do you mean?" She could barely push her voice through her stiff lips. Her entire body seemed frozen, unable to move.
He got up, moving panther like to look out every window in the den of the small, three-bedroom house. What he thought he might see in the darkness, Tessa didn't know.
"They had ID. They had the right uniform. They almost said the right words. Almost."
"Almost?"
"Almost, if I wasn't already inclined to be cautious because of Hunt's work. Almost, if they hadn't followed up their song-and-dance routine by asking me where to find you."
She shook her head, puzzled, trying to follow Cord's words and yet unable to think through the blinding haze of sadness.
"They said they wanted to inform you that Hunt had died an honourable death while on a sensitive assignment. You know, the usual cliches."
Pain flowed through her every nerve ending at hearing the blunt words.
"But if you don't believe them - if you think they were really looking for me..." Panic rose inside her. "Are you suggesting someone wants to use me to flush Hunt out?"
"I don't know. And I don't want to get ahead of myself before I get some answers out of the military."
He waved a hand dismissively but not with much emphasis, and Tessa realized he was exhausted. Her gaze sought the clock; it was nearly midnight. Cord would have gotten up at about four in the morning to check on his cattle.
"You're tired," she murmured.
Cord sent her a sharp, assessing glance.
"I'm not tired."
She knew better.
"Did you just find out?"
He shook his head.
"Why did you wait so late to come tell me?" He studied her, every inch of her, and Tessa's eyes widened under his scrutiny.
"Tell me. I have to know everything."
"I told them I didn't know where you were." He hesitated, watching her. "I didn't want them to follow me here."
"Oh." Tessa felt something inside her begin to unravel. Her strength, perhaps. After all the months of worry about Hunt, Cord was trying to tell her as gently as possible that not only were they not going to find out that Hunt was alive, but also that the worries were about to
intensify. Unconsciously, she ran a soothing hand over her rounded stomach. Somehow, somehow I will take care of this child. I will not be afraid.
When Cord's weight suddenly filled the space beside her, Tessa felt her eyes begin to overflow. He put his arms around her in the most unobtrusive, supportive way - and she allowed her head to sink against his broad chest.
"I have to hear everything you're thinking."
"Not tonight you don't. I can worry for both of us tonight, and in the morning, when the shock wears off some, I'll fill in the rest of my hunch. Possibly I'll have more concrete information then."
"All right." She had no strength left to insist. All her strength was needed to nurture the child growing inside her.
"I want you to come stay at the ranch tonight."
She jerked away from the warm shelter of his arms.
"Why?"
"I'd just feel better if you did."
She sensed something deeper, something hidden in his request.
"There's no need to worry about me. I'm fine here."
The watchful depth in his granite eyes struck her.
"You're not telling me you think I'm still in danger, are you?" The near hysterical question hung between them.
"You told them you didn't know where I am! How would they find me?"
Cord stood, picked up his hat, settled it on his head. He gave her one long stare that shook her with its protective purpose.
"I'll understand if you don't want to stay in my house, but I think you should go to your mother's, at least. My gut tells me you shouldn't be alone. "
What exactly was his concern - her safety or her sanity?
"My mother's house is not an option," she snapped, angered because he knew as well as anyone that her mother was disgusted by her free-wheeling relationship with Hunt Greer.
He's never going to marry you. You're making a fool of yourself, running all over the world after him. You just wait, Tessa Draper. You're going to find yourself right back here in Crookseye alone and that spy boyfriend of yours will never remember your name.
The memory of her mother's harsh words made Tessa shiver despite the velour robe she wore. Since July, when Hunt had disappeared, she'd worked in Dallas at a friend's shop. That employment ended when her friend had to close her business.
Now more than seven months pregnant, Tessa had decided to come back to the tiny house she owned, to spend the remaining days of her pregnancy in quiet solitude.
She had no place else to go. It was doubtful anyone would hire her at this late stage in her pregnancy. It would be peaceful, at least, in her little house in Crookseye Canyon.
So she'd thought.
Periodically, Cord had called to check on her unobtrusively. She knew he hoped his brother would return to her safely.
This apparently was not to be the case, and now the months of waiting had come to a disturbing resolution.
"If you get your things, I'll carry them to the truck. The snow's getting deeper, so wear boots and warm clothes."
Tessa tensed as Cord's gaze nicked to her melon- size stomach, not quite hidden beneath her robe, the months of her pregnancy no longer quite as camouflaged by her height.
She knew he was right. The Greer ranch was a large spread, the house much nicer than her cottage. There would be more warmth there than in her poorly insulated cottage. There would also be security, and that was Cord's intent. To conceal that, he was trying to keep her focused on mundane tasks, on everyday, normal, routine life like packing warm clothes. Cord couldn't know that even the snow was a painful reminder.
There had been no snow in Spain when she'd last seen Hunt. It had been pleasantly warm, a flirtatious day of laughter and happiness in a seaside cafe and... Tessa bowed her head for an instant. Cord was worried for her safety, and because of his brother, he was determined
to protect her.
The secret she held inside made her feel that she was taking advantage of Cord's protective caring. On that last day in Spain, she had been in wonder at her pregnancy - and abjectly torn because she knew she didn't want to marry Hunt.
She loved him, but the minute she'd learned about the baby, her whole outlook on life had changed. She'd grown up, matured with shattering clarity. She wanted for her child what she had never had. Security. Love. A childhood free of worry. She had decided to tell Hunt she was returning home. For good.
"What makes you think they wouldn't look for me at your house?" she asked softly, forcing herself to focus on the present.
He shrugged. "First off, I'm just going with my instincts tonight, Tessa. I don't know that they weren't telling the truth. I just didn't feel that they were." He rubbed a palm over his chin i
n a scrubbing motion.
"All I do know is that if some stooges are looking for you, they can find you here and they can find you at my place. But they'll also find me - and my father's prized collection of rifles, any one of which has a sight on it that can target a deer's tiniest hair at hundreds of
paces."
Great. She'd never even held a gun, much less needed anyone to protect her with one. Tessa reluctantly rose to her feet.
Hunt had said many times that if anything happened to him, Cord would look after her. She had taken his statement to indicate his strong feelings about their relationship.
Despite Hunt's topsecret job, she had always felt secure with him on many levels.
Faster than a lightning strike, he'd disappeared, leaving her alone in Spain. With worry, with doubt, with fear.
Tonight, his brother wanted to protect her. For the sake of her child, she had no other choice.
"I am freezing my ass off," the short man complained.
"Do we have to squat in this tree house all night?"
"Until the cowboy comes back." The tall, quiet man lowered night-vision goggles.
"No one goes out at midnight without a reason."
"He could be looking at his cows. Stinking cows. I hate stupid cows, and I hate this cold!"
"You hate everything." Vehicle headlights in the distance caught his attention, and he lifted the goggles back up to his face. "Mira."
Rossi, his short companion, hunkered down beside him, squinting intently into the darkness at the ranch house.
"Senor Vaquero is back?"
"Si." The word was rich with satisfaction.
"And Senor Cowboy has the missing lady with him." Lowering the glasses, Salvador chuckled, pleased with this new move.
"Facil. What an easy game this is going to be."
The bitter february cold melted away as soon as they walked inside Cord's sturdy, five-bedroom house. There were plenty of rooms for the two of them to spread out and feel comfortable in separately, he told himself. Having Tessa under his roof would give him peace of mind on one level; on another more primal level, he would burn in a physical
hell; The torment was necessary if he wanted to assure himself of her safety.
