by Tina Leonard
"Don't suppose you're going to talk to her while you're here?"
"I already did, sort of." Hunt grinned, the old, slyly mischievous little-brother grin he'd always worked his brother with.
Cord stilled.
"What is 'sort of?"
"She called to leave a message. I was asleep when the phone rang and reached over to pick it up." He gestured toward the bedside table.
"She said hello a couple of times, but I didn't say anything, so she hung up."
Not talking to Tessa if she was on the other end of the line would be insurmountable for Cord. But she would never call him to talk, not the way she had been used to calling Hunt.
The envy made him angry with himself.
"It was great to hear her voice," Hunt said, breaking into Cord's thoughts.
"She called back a few seconds later and left you a message."
Cord met his eyes.
"What did she say?" He checked his watch, realizing she and Nan should have been home by now.
"That she'd be home soon but had to run a short errand. So I'm going to hit the road." He pulled on an old black T-shirt, tucking it into the worn jeans. Then he swiftly made the bed with precision. It looked as if it hadn't been slept in. As if Hunt had never spent a last night in his old room.
Cord hesitated, not wanting his brother to leave. Yet he understood why Hunt had to go, if Tessa was probably on her way home. Slipping into his bed in the night was one thing, but hanging around during the day when Tessa might discover him was foolhardy. Hunt felt that seeing her wouldn't be the right thing to do. He'd made a break in Madrid, but was it better that way? Cord swung between keeping silent – and changing his brother's whole world.
"What about a wife, children? Does this change of face preclude a family?"
Hunt laughed.
"What could I offer a wife? And children, well... I like to think that the world's children sleep a little safer at night because of what I do. I'm not cut out for fatherhood. Cord. I'm as opposite from you and Dad as anyone could be."
" You don't have to be like us to be a good husband or father. I'm no saint. " Not as long as I've been on fire for your girlfriend - which wouldn't qualify me for the good-brother award.
"What about Tessa? With a new face, and if she was willing to travel with you..."
Even as he spoke the words, he knew it was impossible. Tessa and Hunt had made a resolution about their relationship.
Even if it wasn't easy, at least the rules of the game were understood.
Only Cord wanted to hold on and not play by those unwritten but necessary rules.
"Tessa and I had a lot in common at the time, bro. But when I put her life in jeopardy, I quickly realized all the reasons we didn't belong together for the long haul. Tessa will find someone else. But if I stay in the picture, all I'll do is ruin her future. She's had it hard
all her life with Hester. She deserves something better. Someone who can love her with all his heart. But it's not me." He strapped on a black-wristed watch.
"To be honest, we had fun together, but I always knew it wouldn't last, and I think she did, too."
The thought of the unborn baby tore Cord's heart into pieces. Tessa had not known closeness with her mother, and that had been devastating for her. How much more devastating for this child to never know its father was alive and would love him if life were different?
"I do think about Madrid," Hunt said suddenly, his words agonized and soft. "You know. Cord, we're all players on a great stage. My part is small, but I hope I'm reading the role the best I can. I need to do what I do because I'm uniquely cut out for the lifestyle, and there
aren't many who are. More people are needed in the field, but the cost is too high. So" he shrugged "I remember Madrid, and Tessa. It's like a golden memory I'll always treasure. But like Camelot, it's no longer in existence. Not for me. I won't put her at risk anymore. I
should have listened to my big brother."
Cord had to tell him, but the words stuck in his throat.
Tessa's pregnant formed in his mind, the thought warring with stark reasoning. Hunt might stay if he knew, as Tessa had predicted, and then he'd be in danger. He already was if a change of face was necessary. Hunt's staying would endanger her and the baby. There were
long-term repercussions to telling him the truth - and also to remaining silent.
"It's not the world we grew up in, sheltered and protected," Hunt said, his voice reminiscent and somehow sad. "That was also Camelot. And it's not coming back, either."
Everything was changing faster than Cord could bear.
"Do you ever think about the tree house?"
Hunt reached out to clasp his brother's hand in his, the sign of brotherhood between boys who'd gotten along. Who'd shared their deepest secrets. Who'd known an unbreakable bond.
"I think about it often. I remember Dad's worn hands putting each plank of the floor together. Then the walls, just as securely, with a large window on each side. The leftover wood shingles he got from a friend, which kept it dry. The door that had to be just so. And Mom worrying about Dad up in a tree, though I know she was proud of what he built. It was more than a tree house. It was a hideout where we could have our space. Playing cops and robbers and commandos in those woods with you was more fun than any kid should ever have."
Hunt took a deep breath, his expression slightly longing. "I think about Dad scaring the hell out of us one night, and Mom making him take us fishing. She acted mad, but underneath her stern facade, I sensed her admiration that Dad was still a kid at heart and that he spent so much time with us. I think about them and how happy they were. They loved each other and they loved us." He took a deep breath as they held their secret handshake more tightly. " Those were good times, weren't they? "
They were silent, each smiling a little sadly for the boyhoods left behind in a tree house and fishing ponds.
"You're the best brother I could ever have had," Hunt told him.
"You were the better brother then and you always will be," Cord whispered, his voice strangling in a too tight throat. "I miss the hell out of you."
"I miss you, I miss Mom and Dad, I even miss the ranch, believe it or not. But I think the reason I'm so suited to what I do is because I had so much security as a kid. When
Mom and Dad weren't there to take care of me, I had you." He smiled at his big brother.
"You kicked my ass when I needed it and then you kicked anybody's ass who dared to mess with your kid brother. Did I ever tell you thanks for all the messes you got me out of?"
Cord shook his head. "No thanks were ever needed."
Hunt smiled, his attention riveting on the puppy who whined suddenly at Cord's feet.
"Who's this little fur ball?"
"Her name is Ellie. She's Tessa's." Cord swallowed, picking his words carefully.
"Nan gave her to Tessa so ... so she'd have a companion."
That came out all wrong somehow, in spite of his careful choice of words.
But Hunt didn't seem to notice.
"Good old Nan. How is she?"
"Looking after me now that Mom is gone."
"Still take the occasional tipple with her?"
"Yeah. She likes companionship when she drinks. So I sit with her about once a month. The rest of the time she takes care of me if she can figure out a way to do it without being too obvious."
Hunt laughed, tickling the puppy to his nose the same way Tessa did.
Cord's heart squeezed tighter in his chest.
"You need someone to look after you for a change." Hunt put Ellie back on the floor.
"I've got to go, bro."
Cord forced back the protest that rose to his lips. He stared at his brother, memorizing the face he would never see the same way again. "I remember when Mom and Dad brought you home from the hospital," he whispered. "You had the most pinched and squalling face I'd ever seen. I thought I was going to have a playmate, but you looked like a doll that had
"Before I knew it, you were running around after me, and I could show you how to do stuff. You became that playmate I always wanted. I was never lonely again... once I had you to share bunk beds with."
Hunt clasped his brother's arm, moving in close for a brother's hug. "I was the luckiest kid on the earth. I don't think you ever knew how much I looked up to you. Man, my big brother, he could do anything. You were Superman. You could move mountains." He slapped his brother on the back. "You still can."
"I think I'm past my mountain-moving days." Cord squeezed his eyes tightly shut, smelling his brother, holding him so he wouldn't have to let go. "You're the hero in the Greer family."
"I learned everything I know about being a hero from you, bro." Hunt pulled back to grin devilishly at Cord. "I also learned everything I needed to know about self-defense. Nobody kicks my ass anymore. "
Cord tried to smile, but it was too hard. Staring into his brother's eyes, he slowly moved one hand up to trace his brother's face. He touched every plane of his cheeks, the toughened skin around his eyes where life had etched sorrow and joy. He felt his brother's lips, lingering just over the beard that camouflaged his chin. Then he touched Hunt's eyes, seeing the unshed tears there.
"It's a shame to say goodbye to such a pretty face," he said, trying not to let any tears cloud his own eyes.
"The doctor says I'll still be good-looking enough to suit the women," Hunt responded without losing the mischievous sparkle in his eye. "Maybe the new version will be even more heartbreaking than the old one."
But it wouldn't be the face of his brother.
"Come back one day if you ever can," Cord said, his voice a plea.
"Want to see the final results?"
"Yeah, I want to see what miracles modern medicine can achieve," he managed to quip, but the real answer was left unspoken. I can't bear saying goodbye forever. Not to my brother.
"Well, a bad penny always returns."
You were never bad. But Cord didn't say it; it was time to let go.
"I don't suppose there's any chance you might reconsider. There's a spy store that opened up in Dallas with all kinds of gadgets..." The joke fell flat because the desperation in him was too strong.
Hunt squeezed him one last time before slowly releasing him.
"I love you," he told him. "Watch your pennies. You never know what may turn up."
"I'll know it's a penny I've seen before when it shines brighter than all the others."
"Cord, I'm back!"
Tessa's voice cut through the moment. Hunt saluted his brother, his smile a tribute to the bond between them as he picked up his duffel and raised the window.
"It's all still here, bro." He placed his hand over his heart – and then he was gone.
Cord stared at the space where his brother had been. His heart blew apart, leaving a huge, gaping hole in his life.
Tessa came in to stand beside him.
"What are you doing?"
"Airing out the room," Cord said automatically. "It was stuffy in here."
"In thirty-degree weather?" Tessa looked up at him, touching his arm softly. "Are you all right?"
Cord turned his gaze from the window to the beautiful woman standing beside him.
"Yeah. I am. I'm going to be fine."
He looked at her for a long moment, from her questioning, worried eyes, to her round stomach, to her delicate wrists and lovely lips, before returning to her eyes that glowed with compassion and concern.
And then he left her standing in Hunt's bedroom as if it were just any other room in the house.
Chapter Eight
Tessa stared after Cord, realizing instantly that something was wrong. She glanced around the room he said he was airing out, but the open window was letting in so much frigid air that surely the room had gotten enough circulation.
Frowning, she closed the window and followed Cord into the kitchen.
He'd put on his coat and was grabbing up his gloves that were lying on the kitchen counter.
"Going somewhere?"
"I'm taking a walk."
"Oh." No invitation was issued for her to join him, so Tessa hovered, watching. Something about Cord was different. He was gruff and distant, which he'd never been with her before. She wondered if he was angry with her.
"Is everything all right?"
His gaze flashed over her before he went to the front door. "Did you get your errand taken care of?"
Was he upset because she hadn't come back sooner?
"My mother went to the hospital for a little while. She wasn't feeling well, but I think she's going to be fine." Glancing toward the phone, she saw the red light blinking, indicating that messages hadn't been listened to.
"Didn't you get my message?"
"Yes," he said absently. Then he went out the door.
Perplexed, she looked back to the blinking light. The numeral one indicated one call had gone unheard. It wasn't like Cord not to answer the phone if he was home, so it couldn't have been that he'd heard her call and simply not picked up the phone to speak with her. Maybe someone else had called and left a message and he hadn't noticed.
Yet he was acting strangely. She went to the window and saw him walk toward the woods, his boots leaving a path in the snow, which had ceased falling for the moment.
The first time she'd dialed his number, someone had picked up. They had listened to her say hello before she decided she'd misdialed and hung up. The second time she'd gotten the machine.
Something wasn't right. Knowing she shouldn't do it, she pressed the playback key of the answering machine. Her voice eerily left the message Cord said he'd gotten. The machine clicked off, the red light glowing steadily since its only call had now been picked up.
He hadn't gotten her message. Why did he say he had? And what was in the woods?
Her heart leaped into her throat. Something was going on and just maybe it had to do with Hunt. She zipped up her jacket, put Ellie on the sofa so she wouldn't run out the door after her, then went out to follow the path in the snow.
Cord had to get away. He couldn't look at Tessa and make up stupid stories - lies. Airing out Hunt's bedroom was such a thin excuse she could easily see through it. He needed a few moments to recover from the pain of losing his brother; he wanted some time to ponder what he was going to do about Tessa now. By keeping silent about the pregnancy, he had consigned her to unwed motherhood - a knowledge that haunted him. His eyes burned and his throat worked spasmodically as he walked faster.
He headed to the tree house.
As he climbing up the ladder, he realized he wouldn't have to shove the door back. It was open, as was the window that looked toward his home.
His stomach clenched as he saw the cigarette butts stubbed out on a large rock. A food wrapper lay in the corner. His gaze focused on a clump of mud clinging to the edge of the floor, possibly someone's effort to clean his shoes off before coming inside.
The tree house had been - or was still - being used as a hideout. His heart pounded in his chest. Maybe a vagrant who had no place to go had temporarily lodged here during the storm. Teenagers trespassing in his woods might have used it as a place to sneak a few smokes.
With a boot toe, he turned over a cigarette butt, hunkering down to narrowly gaze at the brand. Marlboro. That told him nothing.
He snatched up the wrapper. The label was foreign, possibly Spanish.
His skin chilled as he realized the one goon had spoken with an accent.
Cord had paid little attention, his entire focus on Tessa and protecting her whereabouts.
They had been spying on the ranch, watching for Hunt.
And Tessa had been going in and out of the house every day, right in the line of vision for anyone who cared to walk to the edge of the woods. Ellie had returned from the woods warm and dry. Tessa had said the dog smelled of tobacco smoke - Tessa, whom the goons had asked ab
out after they'd informed him his brother was dead.
His brother wasn't dead, and Cord had put Tessa in danger.
He descended the ladder, striding toward the barn. Tessa ran out to meet him.
"Cord!"
He halted, staring down into her anxious eyes. Her full lips frowned with worry as she gazed up at him. "Why won't you talk to me?"
"Right now I have something to do. Please go inside the house, Tessa, and stay warm." He kept his voice toneless, lacking the urgency that drove him on. "Close the window in Hunt's room and lock that and all the doors."
Her lovely face went white, her big eyes rounding with fear. "What's happened?"
"Now, Tessa. Please." He spoke softly but sternly before continuing on to the barn.
When he came out with an electric saw, Tessa's jaw dropped.
She ignored his previous request, following behind him. He had no energy to object. One mission occupied his mind, and it took all his determination to carry it out. The enemy appeared to have deserted his property for now, but if they returned to camp on his land again, they would be in for a shock.
He reached the base of the tree where the little house sat high, its presence a testament to a happy childhood long gone. He wiped his eyes, then put on safety goggles. Taking a deep breath, holding it, letting it out slowly, he turned on the saw, its grinding roar shattering the serenity of the silent, snow-dressed forest.
Holding back the tears, he slashed into the base of the ancient live oak tree. He fought with the saw, pushing it into the thick trunk.
Sawdust flew as the blade ate through bark. He commanded himself to keep pushing, to destroy that which had been used for evil. Hunt wasn't going to look the same, and he wasn't coming back. As he'd said, all their happy memories lived on in their hearts. The tree
house was only a symbol Cord had been hanging on to, but this was his and Hunt's place, theirs alone.
He motioned Tessa to stay well back and, with a mighty shove of his boot, sent the tree toppling to the ground. Then he attacked his father's creation, the saw unmercifully stroking the planks into small pieces. Tears built up in his eyes, pressuring for release, but Cord
