by Ronie Kendig
A lifeline?
Why was it pleasantries often seemed not so pleasant? As they endured the welcomes by his family, Canyon noticed his palms sweating.
“Tell ya what,” Stone said with a wink to Dani. “This is the last family meeting I’m attending till the Fourth.”
“Thanks for enduring it.” Canyon glanced at his future bride. Though his heart swelled at the thought, the feeling burst knowing they were about to let everyone down. He caught Roark’s hand and led her to the overstuffed sofa, easing her onto the cushions so she didn’t jar her back. She peeked up at him, a flush filling her face.
He lowered himself onto the couch next to her and drew Tala to his side as he met his family’s smiling faces. Well, save Range. Face red, brow tangled, he scowled at something. Canyon followed his gaze … to his hand threaded with Roark’s. Great. But he wasn’t letting go—it would look like guilt and then Roark would feel abandoned.
It didn’t matter anymore. They were together. Range would be ticked off.
He shot a nervous glance to Stone, who whispered something to his son, Jack, who bolted up the stairs. Leif slouched in one of the recliners, his attention on the muted football game. Stone stuffed a pillow behind Mom’s back as Willow handed Roark a glass of water, then joined his brother and mother.
No Brooke. Interesting.
“Well,” Canyon said as he tore his gaze away. “There’s no soft way to break this, so … I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
A snort from the side drew his attention. Canyon knew it could only come from Range, but his brother wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Get it over with. “As you know, almost two months ago, Roark went back down to Venezuela. This time, however, I was on the escort team.” His mouth went dry. He checked his mom and felt his stomach clinch at the absolute trust and pride he saw there. That would be gone in a few seconds. “I have no excuses for my behavior. But I intend to own up to the mistakes.”
“Dude, what mistakes?” Leif chuckled, and when Stone glared at the youngest clan member, Leif’s smile fell.
Sloughing his hands together as if he could slough off the guilt and shame, Canyon went for the straightforward approach. “While we were down there …” Oh man. He so wasn’t going there. “I betrayed … everyone.” The back of his eyes burned. “Let all of you down, let”—he glanced at the beautiful woman beside him—“Roark down. I’ve been addicted to painkillers for the last few years, but I lied about it, lied to myself. But it got worse, and … it clouded my judgment—er, I’m not …. I made mistakes. I’m still responsible for what I did, it’s just …”
Why couldn’t he just say it, get it over with?
His mother reached across and touched his hand. “Canyon?”
He rubbed his thumb over Roark’s knuckles, wishing he could rub away the mistakes. “I …” A metallic flavor slid over his tongue, forcing him to swallow.
“I’m pregnant,” Roark said, her voice sweet and firm. “Canyon would have you think he’s solely responsible, but”—her eyes locked on to his—“he’s taught me a lot about owning up to mistakes.”
“Then the baby …” Stone looked to Roark, then to Canyon, waiting for one of them to finish his sentence.
“The baby’s mine.”
“Oh, Canyon,” his mother said at the same time Range punched to his feet with a curse.
Canyon matched him, scooting Tala next to Roark.
“Unbelievable! You piece of—” The raw emotion roiling off his little brother mirrored Canyon’s. “You only did this because I wanted her.”
Canyon’s anger rose. “This isn’t about you.”
“Bull! You did this to me in high school—”
“In high school I was stupid, insane with jealousy, and I made a mistake. A horrible, tragic mistake. I know I hurt you then, and I begged your forgiveness”—Canyon’s breaths came in ragged gulps—“but you’ve never let me live it down. In fact, you’ve held it over my head for the last twelve years.”
“You promised me one month—”
“You blackmailed me to get me out of the way, so blinded by your determination to have her for yourself that you never saw what was standing right in front of you.”
Range’s face hardened. “Yeah, what was that?”
“A brother.” His breathing went shallow. “A brother who never asked you for a thing, who did everything to placate you for the last decade, yet he stood in front of you, begging you to help save the woman we both loved.”
Range swallowed.
“All you could see was your chance to push me out of the way, without thought or care for what Roark might feel or want.”
“And you sure seized on that. You knew it was your way out—”
“I knew it was the only way to get her back—alive!”
When Range lunged, Roark popped between them. “Stop.” She flashed a fierce glare at both of them. “Range … I’m sorry.” She blew out a breath. “You were so kind and wonderful to me after the captivity. But you never asked me what I felt, what I wanted.”
Canyon glanced down at Roark, whose cheeks were red and streaked with tears. Anger, strong and virulent, snapped through him. “I know you love Roark, but so do I.”
“Your mistakes have cost me everything.” Range’s words bore the raw vulnerability that rested on his brother’s face even now.
Shame quieted Canyon’s anger. “I know. But they’ve done the same thing to me … until now.” Here went nothing. “I’m not fighting the past anymore. I’ve tried it my way, and failed. In the last month, God’s taught me a lot about placing my burdens at His feet.” The words bolstered him, imbued him with strength. “I have to change. I’m tired of cowering and hiding from the mistakes, hoping they’ll go away. I’ve got … I’ve got a family now”—wow, that sounded wicked—“and I need to man up.”
“Don’t ever talk to me again.” Range stormed out the back door. The screen clapped shut, sealing the gap between his brother and him.
At the blanket of silence that fell on the room, Canyon deflated and dropped to the cushions. Beside him, Roark sniffled. He pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her hair, feeling Tala hugging his legs.
Soon, arms came around his. His mother leaned against his shoulder. “My silent tormentor.” She clucked her tongue. “Your father always said you were quiet because you were either in trouble or stirring it up.”
Her words held too much punch for Canyon to smirk.
“This is a really big mess you’ve created,” she said. “And I don’t mind telling you I’m not happy about the wedge you’ve put between you and Range.” She sighed. “But I am proud of you, son. You messed up and owned up to it.”
“Yeah, that’s a first.” Leif chuckled.
Stone joined them. “I won’t give you the lecture I feel is necessary because I see you doing the right thing, little brother.” He touched Roark’s shoulder. “Maybe you can hammer some sense into his thick skull. Welcome to the family, Danielle.”
“I’m going to be an auntie again!” Willow embraced Roark from the other side. “So, when’s the newest Metcalfe coming?”
Roark peeked up at his sister with a shaky breath. “Um … December.”
“A Christmas baby.” His mother smiled.
Euphoria swarmed his heartache as the family rallied. He hated the way Range had reacted but he understood. And prayed God would take care of his brother, heal his broken heart.
Canyon’s phone buzzed. Though tempted to ignore it, he checked the ID. His pulse rapid-fired at the coded message. An address, followed by all-hands-on-deck.
CHAPTER 39
Lambert Residence, Maryland
2 July
Where is he?”
General Lambert stepped back from his open front door and motioned her in. Dressed in slacks and a blue button-down, he did not seem surprised to see her. “Please, come in.”
Dani swept onto the marble floors and turned toward her godfather. “H
e said you called him last night, then he vanished. I can’t reach him.”
“Nor will you be able to for a few hours.” He walked down the hall toward another room.
Keeping pace, Dani frowned. “Have you seen the news?”
“The question is, have you?”
Disbelief spiraled through her. “How could I not? Every channel is running pieces on him, saying he did all these horrible things.”
Olin stepped onto the plush carpet, waited as she joined him, then closed the door. “And what do you believe, Danielle?”
“Canyon’s the best man I’ve ever known.”
His white, bushy eyebrow arched. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Where is he, General?”
“In custody.”
The breath slammed into the back of her throat. “Custody?” And he just stood there? “How can you be so calm? Why aren’t you doing something to free him?”
“Because I believe, at the moment, things are taking care of themselves.” He motioned to the chair beside her. “Please, sit. I need to share some things with you.”
“I want to see Canyon.”
“In due time.” Again, he motioned to the chair.
With a huff, Dani sat.
“What do you know of your father’s role in what happened in Venezuela?”
Her stomach tightened. “He … he … I don’t know.” She shrugged. “He saw Bruzon had me and did nothing—he walked away from me.”
“In fact, your father’s guilt goes beyond walking away.” He slid an envelope over the desk. “Do you remember what the panel said? That at your house they found photos containing evidence against you that painted you as complicit, not a captive?”
Dani nodded, her gaze locked on the manila envelope. “I … I didn’t look at them. I didn’t care at that point.”
Olin’s lips tightened. “Go ahead, take a look.”
Fingers shaking, Dani reached for the evidence. She lifted it, opened the flap, and drew out the photographs. She frowned as she perused them. “It’s not me. I was never there. But …”
“But you recognize them.”
She glanced at Olin, then back to the images. “Yes. Well, a couple of them—at least, I thought I did.”
He rose, strode to a cabinet in the wall-to-wall shelves, unlocked a door, and drew out a book. For a few minutes he paused, as if reconsidering, then glanced at the ceiling. He whispered something that sounded like, “Forgive me.”
Dani watched him return, stand in front of her, and hold the book. “What does this have to do with Canyon?”
He smiled with a soft snort. “Besides the fact that he ordered me to tell you, threatened to kill me if I didn’t? Nothing.”
“I don’t—why would he threaten you?”
“Because it’s long overdue.” Extending the book, he opened it and turned to a page.
As her gaze struck the image, she gasped. “My mother! That’s right—it was a picture from her album of her on the coast of Venez …” Her mouth went dry. “How … why … who gave them that picture?”
“I believe Michael Roark is the one who sent that envelope, and since you are your mother’s equal in shape, size, and color, he had your face added to the images.”
“M–my father?” She turned a page in the album and gasped. “Why would he do this? Why would he deliberately try to sabotage me?”
“The team felt they were being tracked, and we discovered that the necklace your father gave you was in fact a tracking device.”
Her hand went to her neck, where the necklace Canyon had given her now lay. “They ripped it off me.”
“Evidence they didn’t want anyone finding.”
“My own father!” Another image. Matched perfectly to the ones given to the panel.
“No, not your father.”
The photograph that lay open … her mother … her godfather—the general. Looking very cozy. When was that taken? “Is this you?” She perused the album, surprised at the number of photographs of him with her mom.
What had Olin said? She blinked and looked up at him. “I don’t understand. What you do mean not my father?”
“Michael Roark did betray you; he’s the one who did this.” Softness trimmed his handsome, weathered face. “But, Danielle, he is not your father, not biologically.”
She shook her head and drew back. “Excuse me?”
“Your mother had forbidden me from telling you, but when she was working with the embassy in her country, we had an affair.”
That last word knocked the breath from her lungs. She swallowed—hard. Then stomped to her feet. “No.” She flung the book back at him. “How dare you say that about my mother. She was one of the most incredible women I knew. She wouldn’t have kept a secret like that from me. She loved me. She sacrificed everything to make sure I had a good life.” The words died on her lips. This … this was why her parents had a cold, lifeless marriage. This was why her mother repeatedly told her to wait for the right man.
Dani wanted to dart out of here, curse the man in front of her, but there was an eerie similarity between his story and hers and Canyon’s. Her hand went to her tummy. “Did you love her?”
“Your mother was, and always will be, very special to me.” A buzzing rippled through the air. Olin glanced at his phone. “I have to answer. It’s about Canyon.”
Judicial Building, Virginia Beach 2 July
Though nobody could tell him what was happening in the closed-door meeting, Canyon’s gut swirled with dread. Lambert’s call that something was happening with the case yanked him out of the house, away from Roark and Tala. He’d stayed with Lambert last night, worrying, then bolted to the courthouse first thing. This couldn’t be good.
Though he’d tried to believe Lambert’s reassurances that things were turning for the better, Canyon wouldn’t put his trust in that. He knew the facts of this case. They were aligned against him. Eventually he’d be behind bars. For years, if not the rest of his life.
Canyon shifted on the hardwood chair and pressed his palms to his forehead. God, I know You’re here. You’ve shown me that. So … whatever happens, not my will—which, just so You know is me living with Roark as husband and wife with our kid—but Your will. Please. Let me love her the way You designed me to love her. Not from behind bars.
“Canyon?”
He straightened. And a beautiful sight swept toward him—Roark. On his feet, he welcomed her into his arms and held her tight. “Man, it’s good to see you.” He buried his face in her neck and sighed.
“Are you okay?”
“I am now.” He looked at Lambert. “Tell me this is good news. I’ve been here for two hours. They asked me a few questions, then shut me out here.”
Lambert patted his shoulder. “Let’s find out.”
“Canyon?” Matt Rubart stood at the door. “The judge is ready.”
“What’s … they can’t put me in prison now, can they?”
Matt shrugged. “They can do a lot of things, but I don’t think we have to worry about that this time.”
Pulse ratcheting, Canyon was led through a back hall system and into the small courtroom. Seated at the table, he was flanked by Hartwicke and Rubart, whose rocklike expression had morphed into something … different.
The judge and two others entered and climbed up into their thronelike area, ready to preside over Canyon’s life.
You’re in control, God.
The realization spiraled through him, stronger than the painkillers that numbed him stupid. That was just the thing—he wasn’t numb. He felt alive! And at peace. For the first time in his life.
“After a thorough and complete review of a last-minute testimony that has been investigated, verified, and determined to be the absolute truth, this panel has unanimously voted that all charges against Captain Canyon Everett Metcalfe regarding the massacre at the village known as Tres Kruces are dismissed.”
Canyon’s ears rang. Dismissed? He was free? Dismissed? Didn’t s
he mean guilty? He was going to jail?
“Captain Metcalfe, it is with the utmost sincerity that this panel offers you a heartfelt apology and our regrets for what you have gone through. Please, have your lawyers contact the department for an appointment regarding reparations and full reinstatement.”
Only as his mouth dried did Canyon realize it hung open.
A thud against his back jerked him out of the shock. He blinked and looked at Rubart who leaned over the rail. Eyes back on the judge, Canyon stammered, “Sir. Yes, sir. I’m free?”
The brooding judge smiled. “Yes, Captain, you are free.”
Seriously? A smile faltered then plowed into Canyon’s face. Shouts echoed through the gallery as the hearing closed. Numb, Canyon felt people tugging his shoulder. Pulling him this way. That way.
All he could do was turn to Hartwicke. “How? Who did this? Who provided the testimony? I thought everyone who survived said he couldn’t verify it one way or another.”
She shrugged. “A man who would not allow his face to be seen by anyone but the presiding judge gave details that nobody could’ve known.” She smiled. “Canyon, you didn’t give the wrong coordinates. Senator Roark had someone alter them and the records to place the blame on you, to divert attention away from what they were doing.”
Overwhelmed, Canyon dropped into the seat, face buried in his hands. Though he heard the clatter and clicking of lenses, he didn’t care. The great burden of believing he’d killed Awa and Cora—Chesa!—and all the others … brave, beautiful people … The guilt was gone.
Arms encircled his neck.
The delicious scent of Roark pulled him up and around as her arms encircled him. “I love you,” he muttered, hearing once again the telltale click of shutters.
When he lifted his head, light caught his attention. To the side, the guard had opened the door to the waiting room, and through the opening, Canyon saw a man standing with Lambert. The dark-suited man shook Lambert’s hand. Then an arm stretched into view, sleeve partially rolled up. Canyon saw a tattoo.
His breath backed into his throat. He shoved to his feet. Threw back the chair and darted around the tables. “Wait!”
