Chapter Sixteen
Santiago shouted an alarm, pushing past her into the hall. He opened a closet in the hall and tossed guns to the three men who responded to his call. Terror squeezed Isabella’s throat as the four men mounted the steps to the deck and she bolted after them, forgotten in the shadow of the new threat.
She reached the upper level as the men dropped to their bellies on the deck and leveled the weapons at the cutter.
“Guns!” she screamed in Alex’s direction.
“Get down,” he shouted back, and she lowered herself into the stairwell as gunfire broke out.
The glass wall in the room above her shattered under the hail of bullets, and shards sprinkled down on her. A strangled cry of pain burst from one of the men. At the same time, the boat lurched to the side, sending her rolling across the steps and bumping against the wall. Bullets hit the hull with horrible thunking sounds. Fear that they could penetrate all the way to the stairwell made her tremble. Would she hear the bullet that hit her?
Staying low, she crawled across the floor to see Santiago huddled in the corner while his men fought for him.
Coward.
She whipped around, grabbed a gun out of the back of the fallen man’s pants and pointed it at Santiago’s face. Fear—and a touch of calculation—in his eyes snapped her muscles tight. Shaking, braced for the bullet that could kill her, she eased herself behind a chair, putting him between her and his men before she said, “Stop. Shooting. Now.”
The men turned, guns raised, aimed at her. Then they saw her position, and knowing they risked hitting their boss, they lowered them.
Outside, gunfire still rattled.
“Alex, stop!” she screamed.
Santiago took advantage of her distraction and rose, pushing her gun hand high. She held onto the pistol—barely—and swung around with it, knocking him across the temple and onto the floor. Her finger trembled on the trigger and she could not think of one reason not to shoot him. Not one.
Alex was the first on the boat, sweeping his gun left to right. One man lay on the deck, unconscious. Another man lay inside what had been a sort of sun porch on the deck, now shattered. Beyond him, Isabella stood, a gun braced in both hands, pointing at the ground.
She looked up, her pretty face bruised, bloody and swollen, eyes terrified. Rage whipped through him. The urge to go to her, to sweep her into his arms, breathe her in, had him stepping forward, forgetting his training.
Before he touched her, he remembered the man on the floor, the gun she held.
“I have Santiago,” she said.
She did too. The son of a bitch was bleeding from a head wound, all over the pretty white carpet. Alex wanted to draw more blood, maybe add some guts to it as well.
“You do that?”
She nodded.
He stopped himself from asking if Santiago had done the damage to her face. That would come later. “Good girl. Now come over here.”
He reached out to her and she approached cautiously, then grasped his hand tightly. After giving her a brief, reassuring glance, he pulled her behind him, his attention on Santiago Saldana. He allowed himself a brief squeeze, pressing her against his side for a moment, feeling her heartbeat hammering, hearing a sharp intake of breath—pain?—before he pushed her toward the deck backing away from Saldana. As badly as he wanted to hammer the son of a bitch into the carpet, he wanted Isabella safe.
So he left Saldana to Julian and Dave, who’d followed him, and escorted Isabella to the other boat. He lifted his fingers toward her bleeding temple, stopped himself before touching her and causing her more pain. His gaze flicked to the blood coating the side of her neck. He wanted Julian to look at her, to make sure the wound was only superficial. He didn’t want her out of his sight.
“You need your head looked at.”
Moments later, the prisoners were secured and she sagged on a bench in the Coast Guard cutter as Julian examined her scalp laceration. Her whole body drooped with exhaustion.
“I thought he’d take me to Hector. I wanted to see him. I thought I’d be holding him, Alex.”
Alex hadn’t released her, didn’t want to stop touching her, and holding her hand was all he could allow in front of his men. He shouldn’t even allow that but couldn’t let her go.
All he had was words, and he was no good with them. “We’ll find him, Bella.”
She turned her gaze to him, eyes fierce in her battered, bloody, sad face. “Make him tell you. Make Santiago tell you where my son is.”
Alex paced in the observation room as Captain Winters sat across the interrogation table from Santiago Saldana, the big fish they’d been trying to find for weeks. Because Saldana was here, Isabella was safe. She was safe. He didn’t have to worry about her being at the hospital alone.
But Alex wanted to pound Saldana into the ground anyway. Likely that was the reason the captain wouldn’t allow him into the interrogation room. Alex had promised Bella he’d stay and learn what he could about Hector. He just hadn’t had the chance and the helplessness was making him restless.
He might feel better if Saldana was talking, but he remained stoically silent, hands folded on the table, eyes focused on the mirror, telegraphing some sort of message. Perhaps he thought Isabella was watching.
Agent Michaels entered the room, holding a folder. Ignoring Alex, he walked to the window and knocked to draw the captain’s attention.
“What is that?” Alex asked, gesturing to the folder.
“More information we got off the drive the mistress brought us.”
“Isabella Canales,” Alex corrected. He knew what she’d been, could live with it, but he didn’t want others thinking of her like that. Like he had. Judging her. “She risked her life to get the drive from Saldana’a office and bring it to us.”
Agent Michaels shot him a glance. “Right. It should come in handy now. This stuff should get a rise out of him.”
“He’s waiting for his lawyer.”
“Lawyer’s been held up at security.” Michaels’ grin was quick. “Too bad.”
“Any information in there that might tell us where he stashed the kid?”
Michaels turned to face him full-on now. “You’re still worried about that?”
“She wants her kid back. The least you can give her in exchange for all that.” He nodded to the stack of papers in the folder.
Michaels flipped open the folder, thumbed through the pages. “I think there were some real estate records in here, other houses Saldana owns. Poor kid doesn’t stand a chance, though, with either parent. You gotta wonder if the state will let her keep him. Here you go. Three more properties Saldana owns, none in the US. He probably stashed the kid in one of those places.”
Alex trembled with the desire to slam the agent into the wall for saying those things about Isabella, but hadn’t he thought the same? He hated himself for having made those judgments about her.
But he pushed the desire aside, thinking of the joy he’d bring Isabella when he told her he’d found Hector. He could already imagine the way her eyes would shine. He grabbed the folder from Michaels, jotted the information down on a scrap of paper and slapped the manila folder against Michaels’ chest.
“For the record,” he said. “She’s the strongest, bravest woman I’ve known. You keep that asshole in here so he doesn’t touch her again.”
Isabella was numb on the flight to Belize. Alex had been so excited when he’d burst into her hotel room, scaring the hell out of her, and had gotten surly when she didn’t respond the way he thought she would. Didn’t he realize how afraid she was to hope that she’d find her son? She’d been crushed so many times.
So she’d sat silently while he made arrangements for a friend of a friend to fly them down immediately. He’d lost his temper when she insisted she needed a new dress for the occasion. The only way she’d convinced him to stop at a department store was because she didn’t even have shoes. He didn’t understand that everything had to be perfect when she saw her son again.
She tightened her grip on the toy puppy Alex had grabbed while she changed into the red knit dress. That he’d thought of her son, of something to please him, made her heart swell with more emotion she had to squash. One step at a time.
She caught her reflection in the plane’s window. She hadn’t been able to do anything about the bruises and swelling on her face, and had been painfully aware of the stares she and Alex had received. That only made his mood worse, and he hadn’t said much on the flight so far.
Now the plane was circling, and Isabella’s thoughts right along with it. Please, God, let him be here. Please, God, let me hold him. Please, God, let this be over, even if it means saying goodbye to Alex.
He was watching her now, gauging her reaction, she supposed. Unable to meet whatever expectations he might have of her, she turned and looked out the window at the green land, the blue water, her son’s favorite colors. She hummed softly to herself, the Black Eyed Peas song she’d altered to teach her son his colors, as the plane circled, then touched down on a tiny airfield near the coast.
An SUV waited for them. Alex took her arm as he guided her toward it, casting a disgusted glance at her new heels.
“Didn’t you learn anything this past week?”
“I learned I can run barefoot,” she retorted, then opened her bag to show him the Keds she’d picked up. “I learned how to be prepared.”
His grin surprised her as he opened the passenger door for her. “I wonder if I’ll ever figure you the hell out.”
A little pop of joy burst in her chest. Did that mean he was going to stick around once this was over? No, no. One step at a time.
She gripped the armrest in the SUV as Alex guided it over rough roads, then, using the GPS as a guide, up a winding road, trees thick on both sides. Isabella’s heart hammered in anticipation and fear. On the plane, Alex had assured her getting Hector out of the compound wouldn’t be difficult. He carried paperwork that verified her claim of parenthood and more that showed Santiago was in jail, and would be for a long time. Still, she’d feel more secure if the Rangers had come with them.
The road made a final turn, revealing an Italian-style mansion overlooking the Caribbean. The stucco walls gleamed in the sunlight, the arched windows reflected it. The house itself was surrounded by bougainvillea and hibiscus, thriving in the tropical climate. A wall matching the house ran the length of the yard, and a moment passed before Isabella found the wrought-iron gate, hidden from the road.
This compound wasn’t hiding. It was huge and looming and actually pretty. Why couldn’t Santiago have kept her here?
She sat forward in her seat, her hand on the door handle, her breath caught in her chest. Was that—oh, God. She shoved the door open before Alex stopped, stumbled a bit in the gravel of the road, scuffing her new shoes but not caring as she ran to the gate and curled her fingers around it, looking through the scrolled iron bars at the dark-haired child playing on a manicured lawn. Giggles carried on the breeze from the ocean below, and a word. “Mama!”
Her heart squeezed when she realized her son hadn’t seen her. He was running toward a brunette woman who bent to scoop him up and lifted him high. She recognized Carmen. So she wasn’t in Florida after all. The air echoed with squeals of delight.
Isabella’s knees sagged and she would have dropped to the ground, but suddenly Alex was beside her, his arm around her, holding her up.
“I’m sorry, Bella. I’m sorry,” he said against her temple. “Maybe one of the other houses—”
“He called her ‘Mama’,” she choked, barely managing the words that were being strangled by tears she refused to release.
He drew back sharply. “It’s him?”
She nodded, her grip so tight on the gate that the scrolls dug into her palms. Her son, and she’d be damned if she let him call another woman “Mama” after what she’d gone through to get him. She drew away from Alex and rose onto her toes.
“Mijo,” she called through the gate, then louder. “Mijo.”
Carmen straightened and turned toward the gate. Her spine snapped straight when she saw Isabella. Hector wriggled in her arms, twisting. She saw recognition light his eyes, and he held his arms out to her with a sharp cry of “Mama”.
Isabella rattled the gate, needing to get to him, ready to climb over it, ready to take a swipe at Alex when he pushed her back from it. But then he bent over the lock and popped it open, swinging the gate wide. Joy pouring through her, Isabella raced into the yard.
She dropped to her knees and flung her arms wide, and Hector, her baby, the love of her life, threw himself against her, calling, “Mama, Mama,” over and over. She folded her arms around him, folded her body over his. She had her son and no one was going to get him away from her again. Tears blurred her vision of the boy as she pressed kisses all over his sweet face, as she breathed in the scent of him, little-boy sweat under baby shampoo. This had to be real, if she could smell him, right?
She didn’t want to let go of her son, checking him to make sure he was whole. His chubby little arms were tight around her neck, pulling her hair, and his body pressed into her cracked ribs, but she was so glad, so relieved he hadn’t forgotten her.
She looked up to see Alex, blurry through her tears, watching her. “Thank you,” she managed through the lump in her throat.
He didn’t say anything, of course, only took her elbow and lifted her up, Hector and all. He pulled her against his side, just for a minute, long enough for her to feel the sigh of relief from him.
Cradling her baby in her arms, she turned to Carmen. Tension returned in full force when she met the eyes of the woman who served Santiago. Beyond her, two men built like linebackers stepped out of the house. But Alex betrayed no alarm. He released her to approach them, leaving her alone with her son and Carmen. She battled back the resentment she felt, for the time this woman had spent with her child that she hadn’t. For just a moment, she wanted to know every detail of the past few months, everything she’d missed in her son’s life. But to indulge in that meant a delay in getting home, in getting back to normal. She didn’t want to wait for that a moment longer.
With a protective hand over the back of Hector’s head, she spoke. “Santiago is in jail. This is over. I’m taking him home.”
Carmen frowned, then nodded, her gaze focusing on Hector. “He cried for you. For months, he cried for you.”
“I’m here now. Santiago can’t hurt us anymore. You can’t hurt us anymore.”
“I didn’t do it to hurt you.”
Just to get in Santiago’s good graces. Isabella understood. “That doesn’t make it better.”
Carmen’s mouth tightened. “Do you want his things?”
Isabella looked toward the house. Things bought with Santiago’s money. “No.” She tightened her grip on Hector’s bottom, adjusting him in her arms. Funny how she’d forgotten how heavy such a slight weight could get after a few minutes. “No, I’ll take care of him from now on.”
Alex strode across the yard toward her, matter of factly. “Let’s go. They have Santiago’s lawyer’s number if they need to verify anything.” But his body language told her they should go before more questions were raised.
She buckled Hector into the built-in car seat in the back of the SUV and sat beside him, unwilling to let him out of her sight for the drive back to the airport. She wanted to talk to him, have him tell her about the time she’d lost. More than once she caught Alex watching them in the rearview mirror, but his expression was odd, a mixture of pride and longing, she thought. Longing for what, though?
The flight to Florida was long, but she didn’t care, only measured her baby’s breathing, smoothed his dark hair, felt his heartbeat. She’d never felt a joy, a relief, this strong since the day he was born. Like then, this moment was worth everything she’d endured to get here.
Her cheek still pressed against Hector’s head, she turned to smile at Alex, who almost—almost—smiled in return.
Isabella watched Alex through her lashes as they sat in a booth at the cozy little diner down the street from the Miami airport. They’d been detained at the airport the better part of the night as she’d tried to prove Hector was her son. She’d told the authorities that his birth certificate had been lost in a fire, but they hadn’t been inclined to believe her. Her battered face likely did nothing to advance her cause. It wasn’t until Alex called in a few favors from his friends at the DEA that they released her. Agent Michaels faxed over documentation that had been on the thumb drive, a scanned birth certificate and several doctor reports, including a DNA test Isabella didn’t even know Santiago had ordered. He must have doubted the child was his.
But now she thanked him for it, because there was no question about her child’s parentage. She could take him home without worrying someone would take him away again.
Alex to the rescue again.
He hadn’t flinched when she ordered the biggest breakfast on the menu. He even prodded Hector into ordering milk and orange juice, though that much liquid in such a small bladder could only cause delays. She hated that she felt nervous, waiting for Hector’s incessant chatter to get on Alex’s nerves. Alex wasn’t used to children, after all, and Hector had slept well and was now wide-awake.
Santiago had hated spending any extended period of time with Hector because he was so noisy. Santiago was accustomed to everyone doing what he wanted, not taking into account Hector was only a child.
So she waited for Alex to lose his temper. So far, though, he only watched the child warily.
She wanted to ask him what this all meant, that he was still here with her, but every time she met his gaze, his was guarded. She didn’t know how to get past that.
“We’re heading to Orlando after this,” he told her when the waitress came to clear the plates.
“Why?” She wiped absently at Hector’s mouth, as if she hadn’t been out of practice for four months.
He flicked a glance at Hector. “I’ve been given forty-eight hours of leave and we’re going to Disney World.” He mouthed the last two words so the boy wouldn’t hear.
An emotion she was afraid to name bubbled up so that she had to push the words out. “You don’t have to do that. I’m already happier than I’ve ever been.”
He folded his napkin and tossed it on the table, not looking at her. “I keep my word, Bella.”
What did that mean? She knew that. He’d said he’d protect her and he had. He said he’d get her son back and he had. The Disney World promise—that had just been to get her through it, right?
Or not.
So they drove to Orlando. Alex got them a room with two double beds on the resort, and after a trip to Walmart to replenish their supplies, courtesy of the US Army this time, Isabella gave her son a bubble bath. The splashing and giggling held Alex’s attention, a foreign sound, and he resisted the urge to go watch. This was their time together and they needed to be alone, no matter how much Alex ached to be a part of it.
Once the kid came barreling out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel to bounce on the bed, Alex rose to walk to the bathroom. They hadn’t had much time to talk, especially for him to scold her, not when she’d been hurt, then anxious, then so happy. Now her emotions had evened out, and it was time. He braced his hands in the doorway and she beamed up at him, truly glowed.
“You scared the hell out of me when you went with Danes, you know.”
She dropped her gaze and he cursed himself for making her smile dim.
“I know. I’m sorry. I thought—you trusted him. When I saw him pull up, I thought he’d come to tell us about Hector.”
“I did trust him,” he admitted. “I was stupid.”
The smile disappeared altogether now. Good. She got that he didn’t trust anyone, not even her.
“But you came after me.” She looked up at him with adoration in those big brown eyes.
“I did,” he agreed, wanting to turn away. But he was no coward. “You were my responsibility. I was supposed to keep you safe.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes. “That’s not all I am to you, Alex. If it was, you would have said goodbye to us at the airport instead of bringing us back to Orlando.”
“I’m your protector. With Santiago behind bars, you don’t need me.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized instead of sounding cruel to push her away, he sounded needy.
She heard it too, damn her, and stood to move closer, letting the sopping towels fall into the tub. Her fingers were cool and wet as she touched his cheek.
“I need you. I love you, Alex.”
He took a step back and looked away sharply at her words. “You don’t. You don’t know anything about me other than I saved your life and brought you your son.”
She laughed. “That’s a lot to know.” She came nearer. “You stood by me through all of this. You risked everything to help me. You risked your career, the respect of everyone around you to help me. You killed someone who meant something to you to help me. You’re my hero.”
He turned to her then. “I’m not a hero all the time, Bella.”
“No?” She smiled. “When aren’t you?”
“When I used to sell drugs.”
She blinked, surprised, and let her hand fall away. “You did?” She glanced past him to her son, who was happily engrossed in a SpongeBob cartoon Alex had turned on. He waited for her to return her attention to him. He needed to see her reaction.
He needed to push her and her child away.
“I was a drug mule for five years.”
“You—were?”
Doubt and confusion shadowed her eyes. There, if he looked close, was a bit of disgust. He focused on that.
“Where?” she asked.
“In Houston. For my mom.”
“For your mom?” Her brow furrowed. “I thought you were adopted.”
“When I was fourteen.”
The frown lines relaxed. “You were a mule for your real mom?”
“Yeah.”
He watched her reason it out.
“So you were—nine when you started?”
“More like six. I was in the system awhile before the Shepards got me.”
“Oh, Alex.” She laughed again, in relief, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You were just a baby. You didn’t know what you were doing. You thought you were helping your mom.”
He reached up to loosen her arms, but she wouldn’t let go. He scowled, frustrated. He had to allow her to see his dark side, a side only the Shepards understood. He’d never wanted anyone else to know. Why he needed her to, well, he wasn’t sure. “I helped kill my mom. She died running from the cops when I was eleven, in a car rollover. I was in the backseat.”
“Alex.” Her voice was soft, curling around him as she curved her palms over the back of his head and looked into his eyes. “How terrible for you.”
This time he managed to get away from her, wanting some distance. “It was the best thing to ever happen to me.” He gauged her reaction to his statement. Horror, as he expected. As any loving mother would feel. “She was a whore, Bella. She sold herself, sold me, for drugs.”
He watched understanding sink in and her generous lips thinned.
“That’s why you held me so far away. You thought I was like her?”
He braced his hands against the dresser behind him. “Consider my frame of reference here.”
She twisted the damp towel around her arms. “But now you know differently.”
It was almost a question, with a hint of hope. He sucked in a breath, knowing what she wanted to hear. He wanted to say the words but knew what she would want if he said them.
Something he couldn’t give. Something he didn’t deserve.
He’d already made too much of taking them to Disney World. That was a treat for a family, and while he’d enjoy it, he’d known all the while that he’d be walking away and never see either of them again.
“I know you’re strong, and you love that kid more than anything. I know who you are.”
“But you can’t love me because of who I was.”
The pain was sharp in her voice and he moved forward, catching her wrists to force her to look at him. He waited for the fear to flash in her eyes, after what she’d endured, but there was none. Wonder filled him at that. She wasn’t afraid of him. That didn’t make what he had to say any easier.
“Because of who I was, Bella.”
She sucked in a breath. “If you can’t forgive yourself for your past, can’t see the man you’ve become, then you’ll never forgive me for mine.”
He opened his mouth, wanting to ease her pain as much as he’d wanted to return her son to her, all the while worried it was beyond his power. This was just as far beyond his power. It was best to let her believe he thought that.
“Mama?”
She didn’t go to her son right away, just looked at Alex, hoping. When he didn’t say anything, she scooped up her naked boy, cuddling him close, his chubby little arms going around her neck, confident that she’d be there for him always.
Christ, he wouldn’t wimp out here and cry.
“We’re both tired,” she said in a soft voice, then jiggled her son in her arms. “We have a big exciting day tomorrow. I’ve never been to Disney World, either.”
She smiled at her son and the whole room brightened, everything within him brightened, but he retreated into his own shadows. Safer for everyone there, as it had always been.
“Let’s get you dressed,” she murmured to her son, easing past Alex into the main room.
Alex stood perfectly still, but the scent of her still filled him with longing.
Disney World was amazing, everything she could have dreamed of and more. They were fortunate they accompanied a three-year-old, since with their injuries they couldn’t handle the more exhilarating rides. Anyway, Isabella had had her fill of excitement.
Alex flashed her a grin when they passed the Tower of Terror and heard the piercing screams as the riders dropped in a free fall.
“Sounds like you on the side of that cliff,” he teased.
Hector was in heaven, and Alex indulged him with sweets and souvenirs. Isabella had never seen the man so relaxed. He even chuckled a few times, a sound she’d never heard.
She never thought she’d be so in love with a man under such control.
She’d told him she loved him, and he hadn’t said anything. Of course she didn’t want him to say it if he didn’t mean it—she’d heard it from men who’d tried to charm her to get their way with her. But if Alex said them, that meant she was the one for him. She longed for that more than she could say.
What a childhood he’d had—if she could call it a childhood. He would hate knowing she pitied him, hate knowing she’d give anything to go back to fix it for him.
But he’d had a good life with his foster parents. He knew what it was like to be part of a family. Did the responsibility scare him? Maybe it did—though she’d never seen him scared of anything. Still, she came complete with a child.
She didn’t think that was Alex’s issue. He was great with Hector. Hector was shy—he hadn’t known many men in his young life—but Alex was gentle and easy with him, learning how to interact with the child as the child learned how to interact with the man. Someday he would be a great dad.
Just not for her child.
That would be an unacceptable loss for all of them.
God, her feelings for him were so complicated. He made her feel safe, he challenged her, she admired his courage. She desired him.
He took her hand and led her toward the Dumbo ride.
“Oh, if you’re going on that, I need a camera,” she laughed.
“I’ll buy you anything,” he said, walking backwards, his fingers threaded through hers. “Except that.”
Alex carried the sleeping boy to the shuttle that would take them to their hotel, careful to keep his weight off the bruised ribs. Isabella walked beside him, dragging, laden with stuffed animals, Mickey ears, a giant lollypop—hers, not Hector’s. Even the pert little ponytail she’d flipped around all day was drooping. He reached back for her free hand and found it easily, as he had all day. He shoved aside the longing that accompanied the gesture.
The same longing he saw in her eyes whenever he looked at her.
So easy to crush that hope. Even if he decided to give in, even if he promised when he came back from his next assignment that they would give this a shot, how long would it last? A month? A year? Who would lose interest first? They both might be too stubborn to admit defeat, or they might fight it out, all the while knowing they’d be better off apart.
No. Best to end it tonight, go back with his team tomorrow, back on assignment, away from her. She could find happiness on her own. She didn’t need his protection anymore.
He stepped onto the too-bright shuttle, shielding Hector’s eyes, sitting on one of the hard plastic seats gingerly so he wouldn’t wake the boy. Isabella dropped to the seat beside him and let her head fall to his shoulder.
“Good day,” she murmured.
He squeezed her hand as the shuttle lurched forward. “Yeah.”
“What time do you leave tomorrow?”
“I have to report at five.”
“God, Alex, that’s in seven hours. I won’t be able to move in seven hours.” She tucked her other arm through his and snuggled closer.
“Can’t carry both of you,” he said, smiling down at her.
“Won’t sleep,” she promised drowsily.
The warmth of her, the weight of the boy, all of it felt right. Everything he’d wanted with Rebecca. A family. If he’d been willing to risk his heart for Rebecca, why couldn’t he do it for Isabella? She was stronger, she was in love with him, she didn’t back away, even knowing what she did about him, something he would have always had to hide from Rebecca.
He could hurt her. He hadn’t worried about that so much with Rebecca, he’d been so concerned with taking care of her. But with Isabella, it would be worse.
No. He was walking away in the morning. For good.
They reached the stop at the hotel, and he stood, helped Isabella to her feet. A woman across the aisle, older, maybe the age of his foster mom, reached out to him.
“You have a lovely family,” she murmured.
He smiled tightly despite the pinch in his chest, nodded, and walked off.
“Bella. I’m going.” Alex crouched by her bed and stroked her hair back from her face, studied her beauty in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He’d resisted crawling into bed with her the past two nights, not to make love to her, but just to hold her, feel her warmth, her trust, even as she slept.
And now he was walking away.
She blinked awake and rolled toward him. “Already? Alex.” She reached out to touch his shirt, frowned when she encountered his camouflage shirt.
“I’m sorry.” About so much.
Her eyes sharpened. She understood. Still, she asked, “When will we see you again?”
“You don’t need me anymore, Bella.”
“But I want you.”
He didn’t answer that, couldn’t, just let the soft words roll through him. Instead, he pushed back from the bed, not rising yet. “Take care of yourself and the little guy. The room is paid for another night, and there’s some cash—”
“We’ll be fine. We’re—going home after this. Let Hector meet his grandparents.”
“Good. That’s good.” He glanced at the clock. He should have left fifteen minutes ago, but he was dragging, and he knew the reason why.
She took his hand. “Be careful, Alex.”
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
He rose then and smirked. “You’re welcome.”
She sat as he made his way across the room to the door, following his progress with her eyes. He needed to turn away. He couldn’t do this, say goodbye.
“I love you,” she said again when he opened the door.
He took a deep breath before he could take the last step out. “Goodbye, Bella.”
You can go home again. Isabella drove her rental car around the mountains, through El Paso, over the state line and into Las Cruces. In the backseat, secure in his child seat, Hector alternately flipped through his books and looked at the scenery.
Las Cruces was a beautiful little town at the foot of the Organ Mountains on the New Mexico side, and she caught her breath to see the place for the first time in six years.
Just like she’d caught her breath to hear her mama’s voice when she’d called from Orlando.
Was it okay if she came home for a little while? Did they want to meet their grandson?
She might never be sure if Hector was her ticket home. If her parents would be just as happy to see her, alone.
She turned and turned and turned again, her body remembering the way home. There it was, the little ranch house where she’d grown up, restless and unappreciative. It had never looked so beautiful, with its new coat of sand-colored paint, neatly trimmed grass, flowers on the porch.
Everything blurred and she pried her fingers from the steering wheel and turned to look at Hector with a smile. “Do you want to go meet your grandparents?”
Then they were there, running out to the car, pulling her out, hugging her, pulling Hector out, staring at him, stroking him, laughing, crying, never letting go of Isabella.
She knew she’d have to talk to them, knew she’d have to make up for disappearing six years ago. But for now, she was home.
***
Alex set the bottle of beer on the table in front of his father, drank from his own before sitting.
“Don’t tell your mother,” Tim Shepard said, opening the bottle.
“Why does she keep it if you can’t drink it?”
“Hoping you’ll come home.” He took a long drink, one eye on the door.
“I come home enough.”
His father nodded. “More than most men your age. Something different, this time, though.”
Alex kept his gaze on the beer. “What do you mean?”
“You’re tense, restless. Like you were when you came to us. Something go wrong on this last mission?”
Alex’s heart jumped just a little. He didn’t lie to his father. “No, sir. Not this one.”
His father leaned back. “The one before. The one with the girl and her child.”
“Yeah.” Alex shoved the beer away, watched it slide in the condensation, then scraped one hand down his face. “I can’t get her out of my head. Even on the last mission, Cervantes had to call me on it.”
“You love her?”
Alex snorted. “I thought I loved Rebecca, look how that ended up.”
“So how is this different?”
Alex studied the label of his beer, saw Bella’s face. “Isabella is strong, so fucking strong—”
“Alex.”
His face heated when his father chided him for his language, and he apologized for the slip. “I started off thinking she was like my—real mother, you know, that she was only after money and pleasure, no matter what the cost. I kept telling myself that even after I knew it wasn’t true, because I wanted her so bad, and I thought—” He shook his head. “I thought that could hold me off. But she’s amazing and tough and there’s this light in her, especially when she’s with her son, Hector. I start thinking about it—can I be a good dad to someone that little? I mean, I didn’t have a dad till I was older. But he’d have good schools on base. Living on base might be hard for Bella, she can be a little hellion, but I think she’ll adjust.”
“Son.” His father leaned close, eyebrows lifted. “You sound like—”
“Yes, sir, but how do I know it’s real?” He pushed to his feet. “How can I tell it’s love and not lust and not obsession? If I go to her and tell her that I love her, what guarantee do I have that it will last? I mean, she won’t tell me no, she said she loved me, but how can I be sure she knows what it means? Neither of us have had the best judgment when it comes to that.”
His father sat back with a sigh and tasted his beer. “The fact that you’re worried about it assures me a little. The idea that you’re planning for a future.”
Alex looked over. “Yeah?”
“If it was lust, you’d be thinking about how long before you got tired of her. If it was obsession, you wouldn’t be here asking me if it was the right thing. You already have the answer, Alex. I know it’s hard for you to trust your feelings, but you need to.”
“I love her?”
His father chuckled. “Way to sound convinced, my boy.”
Alex dropped against the back of his chair with a grin. “I love her.” He stood up and threw his arms up into the air. “I love her!”
His mother came out on the porch, drawn by the commotion. Alex snatched her up and spun her around.
“I love her.”
His mother swatted him with the dishtowel. “Then go tell her, you dummy.”
Alex stood at the edge of the sidewalk, watching the young woman in the shorts and tank top splashing her son in the plastic kiddie pool, jumping in and kicking the water up, jumping out again when he returned a wave of water.
She looked so happy. Did he have any right walking back into her life and saying, “Hey, look, I was wrong, you were right, I love you, let’s give this a shot?” He was asking a lot of her, to move to North Carolina with him, so she could be there for him between missions.
Goddamn, he never used to be this indecisive. But one decision had never meant more.
Before he could second-guess himself back to the car, she looked up and saw him.
Even from this distance, he saw the question in her eyes. What did this mean, him turning up here? He could see the hope. God, he loved her hope, the belief that she’d find her son, the trust that he’d stand by her side.
He wanted to honor that trust, live with that hope. He wanted her light to chase all his shadows away.
And then she was running toward him, long brown legs eating up the ground. She flung her arms around him, holding tight, her legs flying off the ground as he wrapped his arms around her. She raised her head, looked into his eyes, saw something there, because she kissed him like she’d been starving for him, hard and hot and open mouthed.
Something struck his leg, attached to it, soaking his neatly pressed slacks. Hector. He loosened his hold on Isabella enough to look down at the grinning toddler, felt himself grinning in response.
From a distance he heard a woman calling. The light in Bella’s eyes changed to mischief and she peeled herself off him, but didn’t let go, pressed herself to his other side, clinging to his arm to show he didn’t have a chance of escape.
He followed her gaze to the house, where a woman with Isabella’s eyes stood, hands together, watching.
“Are you up for meeting my mama?” she asked, but started leading him down the sidewalk before he could answer.
Dinner was a cheerful affair, and if he hadn’t been adopted by the Shepards, he would never have known how to deal. Bella’s dad watched him warily, her mom kept trying to feed him, Hector clamored for his attention, and all the while Bella smiled, knowledge in her eyes.
He wished he knew what she did.
After dinner, her mother chased them outside and they sat on the bench of a brand-new swing set.
“He’s not spoiled or anything,” Alex said, trailing his finger along the chain of the swing as she curled up beside him. She hadn’t let go of him yet, as if she was afraid he’d disappear or run away. Something in him flinched. He was here to ask her to come to North Carolina with him. How could he take her away from the family she’d just rediscovered?
“Neither of us are.” She rested her head on her shoulder and sighed. “You’re probably wondering why I left.”
“Yeah, a bit.”
“My family is great, but not what I’d call adventurous. I wanted adventure.”
“Now you’ve had it.”
She laughed. “More than my share.”
“So you’re ready to settle down.”
The catch in her breath told him she caught his meaning.
“Depends on what kind of settling down you’re thinking of.”
He shifted so he could look at her, and regretted that the movement dislodged her head from his shoulder. “The kind where you come to North Carolina and learn how to be a soldier’s wife.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled. “That doesn’t really sound like settling down.”
His lips twitched. “No, it’s just another kind of adventure, come to think about it.”
“A soldier’s wife,” she repeated. “Are you sure, Alex, after everything you know about me?”
“This is what I know about you.” He cupped her face in his palms. “You’re passionate and loyal and loving. There’s a light inside you I can’t stand to be away from. Maybe I’m selfish in wanting you with me, but—”
She covered his hand with hers. “No. Not selfish.”
He reached into his pocket for the square box that had been riding on his hip for the past few hours. He opened it with fumbling fingers and presented it to her. “I love you, Bella. I want you to know you’re not taking all the risk here.”
“I know all about risks, good and bad,” she murmured, looking from the ring to his face, her eyes just as bright as the diamond. “You’re a risk I’m willing to take.”