Wolfsbane (51 page)

H
ow many fingers do you see?”

Dani sighed. “Four.”

The doctor moved his hand but kept the same fingers up. “And now?”

“Four.”

He penned something in her file, tossed it aside, then scooted his stool toward where she sat on the edge, wearing pajama pants and an ARMY sweatshirt. She’d adamantly refused to wear a hospital gown and have her backside bared.

Two weeks ago, she wondered if she’d ever walk again. Although her neck and back ached, she felt stronger and more capable. She’d awakened the first time surrounded by General Lambert, her sister, and Range Metcalfe. Though a nice welcome, it wasn’t the one she wanted.

Canyon had been strangely absent. And nobody talked about him—or anything that had happened down in Venezuela, for that fact. She heard their hushed conversations about her father—found dead, execution-style. Apparently everyone expected her to bemoan her father’s death. But they weren’t there when he turned his back on her. Mourning him? No. What she mourned was spending weeks without seeing Canyon.
“Roark. Stay with me, baby.”
His words, as life tried to sneak out of her lungs, were burned into her memory.

He’d not stepped foot in this hospital. But Range had visited every day, brought flowers, stuffed animals, and cards.

Dr. Henderson smiled up at her as they sat alone in her room. “How about the dizzy spells, Danielle? Are you still experiencing those?”

“Occasionally.” She glanced down at the doc, who didn’t look old
enough to wear that white medical coat. “Is that from the neck sprain?” When the brace had come off, she’d started walking around more, until the room swirled and tilted. And that brought nausea.

Hesitation held the room captive, then he let out a quick puff of air. “No.”

“Then what?”

Hands clasped in front of him, Dr. Henderson pinched his lips together. “Are you having any other … unusual symptoms?”

Dani shook her head and shrugged. “Should I be?” What if being thrown across Bruzon’s lawn had damaged her brain or …? “Is something wrong with me?”

“No, not particularly. The MRI came back clear once the swelling went down.” He stood and shoved the stool back. It thudded against the wall, the metal clanking. “Just a moment, please.”

What’s going on? He opened the door, stepped into the hall—still holding the door open—then returned. With General Lambert. And Frogman. And an attractive brunette, whose belly was rounded with the expectancy of a child.

Um, okay. What’s with the entourage?

“Hello, Danielle.” The general greeted her with a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I’d like you to meet Sydney Jacobs, Max’s wife.”

Standing, Dani blinked and stilled against the light-headedness that threatened. Once it passed, she recovered and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” The strength in her hand belied Sydney’s sweet voice.

General Lambert threaded his fingers. “Danielle, we’d like to ask you some questions.”

Uh-oh. She thought this smelled like a setup. “Okay.” She eased back onto the bed and lifted the glass of orange juice from her tray and sipped.

“Not to be indelicate,” General Lambert said, “but we need to know. When you were held by Bruzon during this last mission, were you raped?”

Hauling in a breath and swallowing OJ at the same time—bad idea! She coughed. Sputtered. Choked. Her eyes stung and watered. She felt like she could hack up a lung. Awkward silence bled into the chilled room. Thumping her chest, she shook her head and cleared her throat. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat again. “No, no, he didn’t rape me this time.”

“You’re certain?”

Startled at the question, Dani looked at Max.

So did Sydney, who scowled at her husband.

“Sorry.” He covered his mouth with a fist. “I mean, did anyone else … were you …?”

“Was I raped by someone else?” Dani almost wanted to laugh at the way the guy stammered. “No.”

Lambert frowned and looked to Max, then to her. He angled toward the doctor, away from Dani, then whispered something. Max joined them, muttering to the general. Henderson’s head wagged as he mumbled something to the other two.

Sydney shifted awkwardly and offered an apologetic smile.

Dani couldn’t take it anymore. “Is there something wrong?”

The three men conferred—albeit quietly—then Lambert emerged from the pack. “Danielle, as you know, it’s SOP to run a lab kit when a patient is brought into a hospital.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure my kit was pretty thick. I was almost dead.”

“Yes …” Lambert came closer, his expression knotted. “Danielle …” He slid his hands into his pockets. “One of the tests they run on every female—”

“Even if you’re a Catholic nun, we run a pregnancy test.” Henderson’s chuckle earned him glares from Max and the general.

Something thumped against her chest. Hard. Startling. Her mind flicked to Canyon. To that night at the hotel. To their fight afterward. No … Heat washed through her face and neck. Her mind scrambled for proof that it couldn’t be true.

When … when was her last monthly? She racked her brain to come up with a date. It all blurred into one massive nightmare she’d worked hard to forget.

Lambert said, “Your test was positive.”

“Tha–that can’t be.” She swallowed, gulped the adrenaline rushing through her veins. “It’s a mistake.”

Dr. Henderson offered a sad smile. “I’m sorry. We did run a second one, just in case. But there are no false positives with the tests. Negative, yes. But not positive. Those tests use the hormone …”

As his clinical explanation droned on, Dani buried her face in her hands. His words were lost as she fully comprehended what they were saying, why Lambert had brought Max’s wife—to comfort her after they broke the news.

I’m pregnant
.

“Dani,” Max’s gruff voice cut through her shock. “I need to ask: This baby—does it belong to someone on my team?”

Wild panic streaked through her. No. No, she wouldn’t out him like this.

Wait.

Was
this
why Canyon hadn’t come to see her? Was it because he knew and didn’t want her—or the baby? The thought felt like a kick in the gut. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She pressed her face into her pillow propped against the elevated mattress.

“Danielle—”

“Leave me alone,” she cried through her hands, hating the way the general’s voice sounded. Filled with sympathy. Concern. “Go away.” She drew up her legs onto the bed and cried.

She’d been a wreck since regaining consciousness, morose that he hadn’t come to see her. Now she knew why.

Richmond, Virginia 22 June

“I’m sorry but the number you’ve reached is no longer in service.”

Canyon flung the phone against the passenger door of his Camaro. Why did it feel like his last hope of seeing Roark had been severed? Though he’d promised Range he wouldn’t see or talk to her, he couldn’t live with that bargain. He was going crazy out of his mind not knowing how she was doing. Max told him her recovery, though slow, was good. From Lambert he’d learned she was still in the hospital. But beyond that … nada.

Now, her cell wasn’t working.

“Daddy, are you mad?”

Still unused to being a father, he chided himself for acting out in front of Tala. “It’s oka—” He clamped down on the words as he spotted the cluster of vans and cars encamped at the entrance to the driveway. “Bloodsuckers,” he mumbled.

Two sawhorses blocked the drive, an armed security guard directly behind them. Canyon flashed his lights, signaling the guard, then gunned the engine. The guard launched into action and whipped the blockade aside just as Canyon nailed the driveway before anyone could get in the way or stop him. Or frighten Tala by mobbing the car. The tires spun and spit pebbles toward the camera crews and reporters.
Guilty pleasure rumbled within him at the shouts of protest and cries. “Stay out of my life.”

In the garage, he let down the door before he climbed out.

“Hey, there’s the man of the hour!”

Sandwiched between the car door and frame of the Camaro, Canyon caught Stone’s hand-slap-back-slap hug. “Thanks, man. It’s good to be home.” He glanced toward the back entry to the kitchen. “Is everyone here?”

“Just as you asked. Even Brooke, which is amazing these days.”

Stomach twisted and knotted, Canyon hesitated. What would they think? Honestly, he just wanted to talk to Roark, tell her about Tala, get the past behind them and try to start a future.

“You okay, Canyon?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Then let’s get inside. Mom’s got a million foodstuffs and we’re all starving.”

“Right.” He shifted and bent down, reaching for the seat lever. He flipped the front seat forward and bent into the car.

“Need help with anything?”

Man, this sucked. Canyon angled himself in and unbuckled the five-point harness then slipped the straps off Tala’s shoulders … and hesitated.

With the way his mother loved kids, he didn’t doubt for a second she’d take to Tala. The question, the fear that sucked at his courage, was what she would think of
him
. Especially since he couldn’t tell them anything or explain where Tala had come from.

They’d just write him off as a loose cannon again.
Loose Canyon
. Silent tormentor.

He brushed Tala’s hair from her face and smiled. “How can they not love you?” he whispered and pulled her into his arms. Backing out, he steeled himself against Stone’s reaction. Slowly he came around, eyes pinned to his older brother.

Stone blinked, eyes widening, mouth parting.

Canyon felt sick.

“Not exactly what I expected you to bring out of your car.”

“You and me both.” Canyon moved for the stairs. Swirling nausea coated the back of his throat with an acidic taste. Up three steps and through the door, he entered the kitchen. Willow and Brooke turned with wide smiles that somehow widened as his younger sister squealed.

“Oh my goodness, she’s adorable!” Willow rushed forward and
scooped Tala from him.

“No, Willow, lea—” He tried to maintain his hold, but it broke when she spun away with the three-year-old.

“Who is this beautiful angel?”

Tala arched over Willow’s shoulder and screamed, “Daddy!”

The room froze as Tala’s crying invaded the home.

Willow’s wide eyes found his.
“Daddy?”

“What on earth is going on in—?” His mother’s words dropped like a brick. Hand to her throat, confusion scraped through her sweet face and rubbed Canyon’s heart raw. Confusion bled into what he thought was understanding, then into disappointment.

Retrieving his now-crying daughter, Canyon motioned toward the living room. “Please. Let’s sit down and talk.”

“Here,” Brooke’s soft voice said from beside him.

Canyon glanced down and found a cookie being offered to a sniffling Tala. “Thanks.” He took the cookie and tucked it in her hands. “It’s okay, baby.”

Stone gathered Leif and Range from the back forty, and soon, the entire family had gathered around the fireplace. Canyon eased himself into one of the recliners, perched on the edge with Tala on his knee.

She took one look around the room, at the expectant and anxious expressions, then slumped against his chest. How did he do this, tell his family that this was his daughter? How had Rubart done it—oh yes, with the paternity test. It’d shocked Canyon stupid so he couldn’t object anymore. But that wouldn’t work with his family, especially not his mother. She’d slap him into next week. Then Stone would throw him into the next one for upsetting their mother. But he could feel their gazes, feel their questions … and their condemnation.

Tala fidgeted on his lap, repositioning herself so she laid against his chest in a way that she could look at the others. Then she flipped her head the other direction and burrowed into his hold. Awkwardly, he held her.

“What is her name?” His mom eased closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, smoothing a hand along Tala’s brown leg and sandaled foot.

“Tala.” He hadn’t really thought about her full name. “Tala Metcalfe.”

His mom paused.

“Tala’s my daughter.” Man, that sounded hollow. Void of emotion. But there was no other way to say it. “It’s important to me that you believe her birth was legitimate.”

“Why is she just now here with you?”

“She …” Canyon realized to answer that, he’d violate the gag order. “I can’t answer that. But she has no one left to take care of her but me.” He’d gone over and over this, sorting what he could say and what he couldn’t. To his regret, too little could be said of this revelation. “I didn’t even know she existed until yesterday. There’s not much else I can say.”

Unspoken questions peppered the air but no one probed or pushed. They’d been through this before with TK. Instead of drilling him with questions they knew he couldn’t answer, his family did what they did best: rallied. Within a half hour, his mom and sisters had negotiated with Tala to go into the kitchen to get some dinner and dessert, but the round blue eyes never left his for long.