He’d failed her. He’d failed Erica Knight.
Out of every single person on the planet he could’ve completely and utterly failed to save, Erica was the one who could’ve ever hurt him the most.
He clenched his jaw and tried to block her sparkling dark eyes and dazzling smile from his mind, and almost succeeded. No, he’d gone six years without letting his mind get all tangled up in thoughts of her. He wasn’t about to let himself fall all the way down the Erica hole in his mind now.
He felt around in his pocket for a small flashlight and swung the beam up and down the wet and empty tracks. The flashlight was one of the few items he’d managed to acquire with Liam’s help after making sure the rear half of the train was secure, the passengers were safe and rescue was on its way. Along with his gun, which he’d lost somewhere in the darkness, he also had a knife, a lighter, emergency flares and a very nice radio walkie-talkie, which right now was picking up nothing but static on every channel. Sadly, no phone. High-tech satellite phones capable of operating where there was no cell service were pretty expensive and very rare, and the only one that had turned up had been Liam’s. It made way more sense to leave the only phone capable of communicating with the outside world on a trainful of civilians than for Nick to take it on his solo mission. Not that he’d have been able to talk Liam into giving it to him anyway.
Well, no matter how helpless I feel, Lord, there are always things I can thank You for. So, thank You, God, that I’m alive. And that I got confirmation Erica is alive and well, too. Thank You that Liam Bearsmith was there and able to help Dorothy and William take care of the passengers in the back of the train. Please, be with all of them, keep them safe and help rescue reach them soon.
He found the motorcycle in a twisted wreck of metal a few feet away from where he remembered flipping. Looked like the thug had managed to shoot out the front tire, which would’ve been an impressive feat if Nick hadn’t suspected the man had actually been aiming for his head. The bike was unsalvageable. There really was nothing left to do but walk. So he squared his shoulders, turned his back on the direction the departed train had gone and started for the front half of the train, wondering if rescue would reach them before he got there. He suspected not. Finding and reaching a train in the middle of nowhere, in the storm, was no easy feat.
Hopefully, whatever police or intelligence agency the man who called himself Liam Bearsmith worked for would replace his motorcycle. The bike had been a beautiful piece of machinery and Liam had looked almost pained as he’d helped Nick walk it out of the baggage car. He didn’t envy the man trying to help maintain order and safety on the stranded train while also trying to maintain his undercover identity and not jeopardize whatever mission he was on. He prayed that God would protect Liam’s undercover assignment, and also hoped that one day he’d find out more about the man and what kind of assignment he was working on.
Nick kept walking and found himself thinking about his brother Trent, who’d been so many different people and played so many different roles in his work as an undercover detective. Trent had been the first of the Henry brothers to find true love, proposing to fellow detective Chloe Brant, pretty much in the same moment he’d admitted he loved her. The wedding still hadn’t happened, though. They’d opted for a long engagement, he suspected to give the two strong-willed, independent people time to get used to being partners in life and in love. Then Max had met Daisy, a nanny on the run for her life with a baby in her arms. That had been love at first sight and, a few weeks later, Max and Daisy had been married in a small, casual ceremony at the Henry family farmhouse, with her son, Fitz, in her arms. Which left just him and Jacob—the youngest and the eldest brothers—one too irresponsible for marriage and the other so married to his job that Jacob was probably going to end his thirties single.
Again, the curve of Erica’s smile filled his mind, followed by the impetuous grin of her son. He pushed them both away and trudged on, pushing his pain-filled body through the rain and mud, step by step, knowing there wasn’t much he could do now but walk and pray. Rocks rose tall and jagged on every side. Thick trees pressed in around him. Knowing in his head that he was several hours’ drive away from roads or civilization was one thing. But imagining anyone finding him and rescuing him out here was near impossible. He was all on his own, at least for now, and he’d never much been a fan of being left alone with his thoughts. But here he was.
“Once you start playing a role, it’s always easier to keep playing it than to stop” was something his brother Trent had told him once. Nick had asked how he’d managed to stay undercover for so long, living a life that wasn’t real and keeping himself from ever developing the kind of connection Trent now had with Chloe. So then, what had Nick’s role been? Back in high school Erica’s brother had played the loudmouthed lout. Was Erica right in saying Tommy no longer played that role now? Clark had been the golden boy, the good and righteous one, the valedictorian who’d gone on to become Ontario’s youngest Member of Provincial Parliament, while successfully killing every sleazy and unseemly rumor that had swirled around him. And while Nick had always suspected the slick and shininess of Clark’s whole shtick was an act, it had been one Clark had kept up his entire life, spun into an ambitious career and then died with.
And what role had Nick played exactly? The one who was too much trouble to bother with? The one too difficult to love? Maybe he’d been the one determined to prove Erica was wrong in choosing to love him. This time, he didn’t fight it when her face entered his mind, along with an ache that pressed at his chest like a balloon expanding inside his heart. He’d tried hard to forget Erica, if he was honest. He’d had a smattering of very short-term relationships with women he’d met on base—all good, nice and kind women that he’d never been able to make a connection with. Instead he’d always known something was missing, but had never been ready to admit to himself the missing piece was that none of those women was her.
Nothing had ever compared to the connection he’d had with Erica.
And yet he’d never told her how much he’d liked her and cared about her back when they were dating. He’d never even called her his “girlfriend,” even though it had been obvious to everyone with two eyes that she had been and, as much as he’d known, on one level, how deeply she was waiting to hear him acknowledge it. No, instead they’d just been “really good friends” and they’d just “hung out.”
Just like the moon and the sky were good friends.
Just like the sea hung out with the shore.
They’d sat beside each other in every class since tenth grade and walked home together every afternoon. They’d gone shooting, hunting, climbing, kickboxing and swimming. They’d studied together, although that was usually her rescuing him with some last-minute cramming for a test or helping on an assignment he’d forgotten. He’d invited her over for so many family meals and there’d been something in the warmth in which his parents had spoken to her that it was almost like they’d begun to think of her as an honorary daughter.
Their hands had touched and then eventually their lips, until feeling her arms tossed around him in a quick hug hello and a quick, furtive kiss goodbye had become as habitual to him as breathing. So of course everyone had assumed they were a couple and that he was every bit as serious about her as she was about him. Every now and then one of their friends would haul him aside and tell him that if he didn’t step up and make a commitment, he risked losing Erica to someone who would.
But he’d figured he was in the clear as long as she wasn’t complaining about the fact he was somehow always unable to commit to plans in advance or that he’d tell her they’d do something and then either not show up or cancel at the last moment. He’d told himself they were too young for a relationship and that he’d make it official when they were sixteen, then seventeen, then eighteen. He’d told himself that the fact Erica never took him by the collar and said, “Hey, are we dating?” me
ant he was fine never asking himself how he felt about her or what he was willing to do about it.
Then her brother had planned some stupid party that just happened to be on the anniversary of the day Faith had been abducted and killed. Nick had been in a bad mood. He’d had a fight with Erica over the fact that she’d tried to get Tommy to shut the party down. She’d made it clear to Nick that she’d expected him not to drink like her idiot brother, because he knew better than that. Somehow that had made his mood even worse. Not because he’d intended to drink anything or because he’d wanted to be at the party, but because he didn’t like anyone telling him what to do. So he’d brushed her off and told her he’d needed some space. She’d left him alone at the party, in a bad mood, surrounded by fools. Then Tommy had started mouthing off. Nick had said stupid things back. They’d traded a few blows, and the next thing he knew, Tommy, Clark and some of their buddies were forcibly kicking Nick out of the party.
Nick had stormed off. He’d hated everything about himself and his life. He’d been yelling and stomping around in the family barn, then turned around to see Erica standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with concern, her heart open enough to listen and care.
Suddenly he’d known, with every beat of his childish heart, just how much he’d cared about her, wanted to marry her and how he didn’t deserve her. But somehow, instead of telling her any of that, he’d told her about his big sister who was murdered. Erica’d always known, of course. Everyone did. But she’d also known it was something he’d never been willing to talk about. That night it all spilled out—how he’d grown up knowing he had a big sister who’d been assaulted and murdered when she was twelve and walking home from school, how her killer had never been caught and how her death had torn the family apart.
He’d confessed stuff to her that he’d never told anyone, while she’d hugged him and kissed away the tears he wouldn’t let himself shed. He’d told her he’d been born into a hurting family, mourning the loss of someone he’d never met. He’d told her he’d felt guilty for being alive and that his life would never matter enough. That he’d never be as loved as she was, so he’d done everything in his power to push people away, to test the limits of just how much anyone was willing to love him.
And when I lost her, You were there for me, Lord. His thoughts turn into prayers as his feet trudged on through the darkness. I promised You I’d be a better man and You stood by me every day while I became that man. I just wish I hadn’t done it without her. I just wish I hadn’t pushed her away. Please, protect Erica and Zander. If she was anyone else I’d wonder if Zander is mine. But I just can’t believe she’d ever keep something like that from me—
The prayer trailed off in his heart as he heard the sound of a motor roaring and cycling in the air above him. Then he saw a light, shining above him, cutting through the rain and swinging back and forth as if looking for someone. But Trent had said no pilot in their right mind would fly in a storm like this...
“Hey!” he shouted and waved his hands over his head, wondering if the flares he had would survive the storm if he tried to light them. How were they ever going to hope to land in terrain like this? “Hey! Hey! Over here!”
A helicopter rescue basket tumbled from the sky toward him. Well, then. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And he doubted anyone’s criminal master plan involved finding a lone soldier in the middle of nowhere and offering him a lift to safety. He climbed into the rescue basket and tugged the rope. It rose and, for a moment, he swung through the air, the basket beating against the trees as he climbed higher and higher toward the helicopter above.
A tall man with broad shoulders, a dark leather jacket and helicopter headset leaned forward. His face was hidden by the light shining behind him.
“Hurry up, bro!” a voice boomed, strong and reassuring, over the din of the engine and motors. “What did I tell you about keeping me waiting when I gotta pick you up?”
No way... It couldn’t be...
“Jacob?”
The oldest of the Henry brothers and the man with the hugest heart of anyone Nick had ever met, reached out a strong hand toward him. Thank You, God! Nick grabbed it and let his big brother haul him into the rescue helicopter. Nick scrambled onto the floor and pulled himself into a seat as Jacob tossed him a headset. He slid it on.
Jacob slapped twice on the back of the pilot’s seat. “We got him!” he shouted.
“You sure?” Max leaned back from his position at the controls, and Nick was suddenly thankful the helicopter paramedic had finally gone for his pilot’s license. Max’s eyes twinkled as that teasing million-watt grin crossed his face. “I mean that guy could be anyone.”
Jacob yanked the basket in and closed the door. “Yup, I think I grabbed some random, soaking, muddy dude out of the woods.”
“Well, as long as he doesn’t try to hog all the bacon like our little brother does,” Max laughed.
Jacob buckled himself into a seat across from Nick and tossed him a towel. The helicopter rose. “Fun fact, this is how Mom and Dad got you in the first place. We just dropped a random basket out the rear of the station wagon and when we pulled it back there was a baby in it. That’s why your middle name is Moses.”
“You guys are hi-lar-i-ous.” Nick ran the towel over his face. The comforting sound of two of his older brothers laughing filled his ears. He chuckled along with them. The words What are you doing here? might’ve crossed his lips if the two men who’d come to his rescue had been anyone but fellow Henrys. Probably followed by “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to fly in weather like this?” But if there was one thing he knew about being a Henry it was that they were there for each other, through thick and thin, and had never been ones to let a deadly storm or a crew of gun-toting criminals get in their way.
Trent and Chloe had leaped into action to put their lives and careers on the line to save Max’s Daisy when she’d been accused of murder and kidnapping. The entire Henry clan had armed themselves and banded together when the criminals who’d discovered Trent’s real identity had come to the family’s door to abduct and torture him. Nick had even driven Trent through the night to save Chloe’s life from a madman. Rescuing each other was kind of a family tradition. If one of his brothers had been stranded in a storm, Nick would’ve been the first to commandeer a helicopter, plane or nuclear sub to bring him home.
“You never could stay put and do what you’re told, could you, Nick?” Jacob asked. He shook his head. “Trent tells you to stay put and wait to be rescued. Instead you take some undercover cop’s motorcycle and go chasing down the tracks to single-handedly stop a train.”
Nick ran his hand across the back of his neck. Every part of him was sopping. “First, Liam Bearsmith wasn’t an undercover cop, he was a real estate consultant,” Nick said, and Jacob snorted loudly. “Second, I would’ve succeeded if I hadn’t been shot at. A lot. The real question is, what took you so long?”
“Maybe we wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt to see if you succeeded on your own.” Max’s chuckle rumbled through his headset. “I’d hate to ruin your dramatic moment by arriving too early. Then again, you could be impressed that I got here so quickly. Or that I talked someone at the airport in Moosonee into letting us take off.”
Laughter seemed to echo and vibrate through the helicopter as it rose above the trees. Nick was beyond relieved. Not just for the rescue. But for the reminder there were people who believed in him and supported him.
God, I can’t thank You enough that these are my brothers and I was born into this family.
“Please tell me the front of the train has been stopped and that Erica and her son are okay.”
“Sorry, bro. I really wish I could.” The smile fell from Jacob’s face. Nick wasn’t surprised. After all, it had only been twenty minutes since he’d been tossed from the motorcycle. But still, the reminder that Erica was in danger cut him to the bone.
<
br /> Jacob leaned his elbows on his knees and looked across at him. “The situation is still evolving, and information is scarce. As you know, Max and I have been doing some rescue drills around James Bay...” Yeah, Nick did, but he didn’t know why. Much of Jacob’s work as a detective was even more secretive than Trent’s work. One day, the eldest Henry boy would have to tell him what he’d spent all these years working on. “We got a call from Trent explaining that the train you were coming up on had been hijacked and that you were probably going to be going off after the front half.”
“When?” Nick asked.
“The second he got off the phone with you,” Jacob said. “He knew you’d find a way and weren’t about to stay put. Two rescue trains were dispatched, one heading north to find the rear part of the train, and one heading south from Moosonee to find the front portion.”
Nick blinked. “How could they possibly lose the front half of a train?”
“It obviously switched tracks at some point,” Jacob said. “So now all they can do is search all the tracks and sweep the area when the storm clears until they find it. Then when they do, they’ll set up a blockade in front of the train, force it to stop and negotiate for the hostages’ safe release.”
The helicopter shook and shuddered as it was buffeted by the wind and storm outside. It dropped a few feet, taking Nick’s stomach with it. He was suddenly reminded that Max had crashed the first bird he’d ever solo piloted. They wouldn’t be able to fly around in the storm for long.
Rescuing His Secret Child Page 10
