Wolfsbane (54 page)

“That sounds ominous.” She brushed her hair from her face and sat on the bed, then began putting on her socks and shoes.

Here goes … everything
. From a chair, Canyon recounted the events of Tres Kruces, told her about his tribal ceremony with Chesa, and about Tala, the daughter he’d just met a week ago.

“So, you’re becoming a father for the second time.” Jealousy and anger leeched into her words.

“It’s messed up, I know.” Elbows on his knees, he rubbed his knuckles. “I had no idea about Chesa. I thought she died there.” He shook his head. “It’s like my whole life is dumping all my screwups on my head at once. I deserve it, but I feel like I’m stumbling through it all right now.”

“But you were married to her?”

He nodded, hating that he had to tell her now, in the middle of their own personal drama. Too, he had this perfect moment of bliss—confirming his love for Roark, her echoing the sentiments, then the doctor announcing she was still pregnant.

Shoes tied, she crossed her arms. “Did you love her?” More jealousy.

Canyon’s eye twitched. He pushed against the back of the chair and sat straight. “I was a cocky, midtwenties Green Beret captain. I married her out of obligation and duty, but there was a definite attraction. It became more. Did I love her?” He shrugged, looking sheepish. “Yeah.
I did. But … Roark, it’s got nothing on what I feel for you. If anything happened to you, I don’t think I could go on.”

Her eyes became pools of melting caramel.

Canyon pivoted his position and lowered himself next to her, liking her jealousy but hating that she questioned her place in his life. “You don’t look good in green.” He kissed her again. “It’s you and me. No one else.”

“Tala.”

Okay, there was her.

“And our baby.”

Our baby
. Whoa. What a mouthful. He smoothed a hand over her head and hair.

She sniffled. “It’s a tad crowded already.”

His pulse misfired. “What’re you saying?”

Her eyes bounced to his as a tear slipped over her lid. “Besides the fact that I’m a hormonal wreck?” A smile wavered on her lips. “We’ll need a big house.”

Air whooshed from his lungs. He smirked. “It’s definitely not my first option for newlyweds.”

“Newlyweds?”

That knock-her-breath-out cockeyed grin gleamed back at her. “Yeah.”

Her spunky nature reared its head over the cloud of doom trying to strangle their lives. “If you want me to marry you, I expect a decent proposal. And a ring.” A gleam stole into her eye. “A big one.”

Lambert Resident, Maryland 26 June

“People—and when I say people, I mean politician people who could make our lives really ugly—are not happy.”

Olin sipped from a mug, the steam spiraling up and warming his face. “That’s never bothered you before.”

“True.” The man laughed. “It’s been weeks since the incident, and they’re still digging for a connection.”

“Let them dig. There’s nothing to connect, thanks to you.”

“There is a curious piece of evidence—Bruzon did not die from the explosion. He was shot through the head. The bullet retrieved was from a revolver.”

“A revolver? Only those wanting to make a statement use those anymore.”

“I guess the killer made a statement.” The man sighed. “I have to say, Lambert, this team of yours … I’m impressed. If you want to hire them out—”

“Sorry, but they’re not mercenaries.”

“So you say, so you say, old friend. At least you got the images you needed to clear the girl and prove what was happening right under our noses. Good job. Oh—one thing. Keep your eyes open. There might be a small problem.”

News like this from an asset made Olin shift at his desk and ease back, the leather high-backed chair creaking as he did. “Go on.”

“We’re missing a body.”

Olin pulled forward, reaching for a pen. “Who?”

“Navas.”

Olin hung up. That wasn’t a small problem. That was a deadly problem. Navas knew the team, knew Canyon’s name. And that meant he could come back for retribution.

CHAPTER 38

W
ait.” Dani’s heart jammed into her throat as they turned onto the street that led to his mother’s home. “Pull over.”

“What? We’re almost—”

She stabbed a finger to the curb. “Pull over. Now.”

Canyon guided the Camaro to the side of the street and shifted the gear into P
ARK
. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“Yes.” She blinked. “No, not that kind of pain anyway.” She glanced down at her jeans, and her gaze invariably went to her tummy.

“Roark?”

What would his mother think of her? “What if she hates me?”

“Who?”

“Your mother! She’s Mrs. Perfection—strong, she’s raised five kids, she believes so firmly in God, and she’s always so … happy. Peaceful.”

He cupped her face. “Roark …” He smiled. “You’re so much like my mom, it isn’t funny. Your strength, your character—”

“I’m pregnant with your baby—outside of marriage. That’s not character!” Maybe this was one of the reasons the Bible said not to have sex outside of marriage. “Why … why does the Bible say not to do that?”

Canyon’s relaxed expression tightened.

“I’m serious, Canyon. Help me understand this. I was raised Catholic, but I see people all the time—”

“I don’t want to be ‘people’ to you. I want to be set apart, for God.” He held out his hands and seemed to pat the air. “Okay, the way I see it is this is about measuring a level of commitment. By having sex outside of marriage, the commitment comes into question.”

“No, I never—”

“Tell me”—his voice crackled with intensity—“that you didn’t
question my commitment to you after we slept together. Tell me you didn’t wonder if I wasn’t coming back.”

The heat drained from her face.

“By breaking my promise to God, by not obeying His command, I opened a vulnerability in our relationship that should never have existed. I hurt you.” His words sounded thick. Painful. “That is not acceptable.”

She swallowed.

“It’s not just hard rules by an omnipotent God who wants to spoil our fun. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows the future—we don’t. I never could’ve predicted we would get captured, that we’d be separated. That you’d sit there in a prison wondering if I took what I wanted and left.”

A tear slipped loose. He’d read her soul. Read her pain. She just wanted things to be better. She wasn’t a fool—she knew Canyon was an amazing man and would not let go of him. But now she understood his grief because she understood more of God.

Canyon brushed the tear from her cheek. “I trust God with my life, with our future. Do you?”

Blinking away more tears, she nodded. “I think so…. I want to. I just don’t know how.”

He smirked. “You and me both. It’s an every-day, every-minute journey. But we’re going to do this together. And that peace you see in my mom, Roark?” He leaned closer, his brow knotted. “That’s the Lord, her letting Him have control even when things turn out different than she hoped.” He bent forward and kissed her. “Now, let’s go test that theory.”

They drove to the house and climbed out of the car. Canyon helped her up the steps from the garage that led into the laundry room, then to the kitchen. Inside, the din quickly died down. Small feet padded over the wood floors.

“Daddy!”

Canyon bent and hoisted a little girl into his arms and planted a kiss on her cheek. “How’s my girl?” He turned to Dani. “Meet Tala, ball of boundless energy.”

Jealousy slithered through Dani’s veins. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Danielle?” The sweet voice of Moira Metcalfe sailed through the home. “Is that really you, my dear?” She came forward, a white sweater draped over her thin, bony shoulders, and hugged her.

“Careful, Mom. Her ribs—”

After a gentle squeeze around Dani’s shoulders, Moira turned to
Canyon. She brushed crumbs that had dribbled from Tala’s animal crackers onto Canyon’s black shirt. “Well, come on into the den. We’re all here. Again. Just as you asked.” Her gaze flicked to Dani. “We’ve missed you. I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Can I get you anything?”

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.”