Книга - Special Assignment: Baby

Special Assignment: Baby
Debra Webb


THE MISSION: DADDY–TO A SECRET BABY?Court Brody knew his assignment to infiltrate a secret militia organization didn't allow for any mistakes. But the stakes became higher when he found himself faced with Sabrina Korbett–his former flame who'd stumbled into the wrong place at the worst possible moment. Working undercover, he had to keep his distance and his agenda hidden from the one woman he'd always loved. Then he discovered her secret–she'd never told him he was a father. Although he'd missed his baby's birth, Court vowed to be there for his toddler son forevermore. But with his cover nearly blown, could Court survive long enough to keep his family out of harm's way?









Special Assignment: Baby

Debra Webb







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




DEBRA WEBB


wrote her first story at age nine and her first romance at thirteen. It wasn’t until she spent three years working for the military behind the Iron Curtain and within the confining political walls of Berlin, Germany, that she realized her true calling. A five-year stint with NASA on the space shuttle program reinforced her love of the endless possibilities within her grasp as a storyteller. A collision course between suspense and romance was set. Debra has been writing romantic suspense and action-packed romantic thrillers since. Visit her at www.DebraWebb.com or write to her at P.O. Box 4889, Huntsville, AL 35815.


Writing has always been my dream for as long as I can remember. The opportunity to express myself in this art form and to touch my readers means more to me than words can convey. Life is far too short sometimes, and because of that injustice there are those who never fully reach the dream that lived so vibrantly in their hearts and souls. But we must believe that God holds a special place for them where their every dream will come true. This book is dedicated to a fine lady who dreamed of writing the stories that lived in her heart—Bobbie Waite, beloved mother and aspiring author. Though she is sorely missed, Bobbie’s hopes and dreams live on forever in the lives she touched.




CONTENTS


PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN




PROLOGUE


“WE’RE PLEASED TO have you with us, Court.” The man smiled, the kind of smile politicians used to get your vote. His voice was deep and disturbingly calm.

Careful to analyze every move, every look, Court Brody grasped the hand Joshua Neely offered and shook it firmly. “I’m honored to be here, sir,” he said with as much sincerity as he could marshal.

“My friends call me Joshua,” the older man returned with an ease that was both confident and knowing. “And I think you and I are going to be friends.” That smile again. “Raymond tells me that you’re very interested in our beliefs.”

“I am.” Court resisted the urge to scrub his palm against his jeans when Neely released it. “I’ve been away for a long time. But now that I’m back home where I belong, I’d like to be a part of what your people are doing.”

Neely nodded his understanding. “Raymond, take Court and show him around. We’ll give him his official welcome at the rally tonight.”

“Yes, sir, Joshua.”

Grinning as if he’d just accomplished a major coup, Raymond ushered Court toward the nearest exit. On the stoop leading out of the enormous meeting hall, he paused and slapped Court on the shoulder.

“I knew he’d invite you to join us right away. I knew it,” Raymond repeated, his tall, thin frame fairly vibrating with excitement. “That’s why I wanted you to come today. We need more men like you, Court. We’ve got to fight if we’re gonna bring this country back to what it should be.”

Court recalled the crowd of men, women and children gathered in the meeting hall for Neely’s speech. The hour-long monologue he’d just endured reminded him entirely too much of a Sunday morning fire-and-brimstone sermon. Only it was Saturday, and this place, with its security fence and armed guards, was no church. Yet, Joshua Neely certainly fit the bill of preacher. Court had a niggling feeling that the man was anything but godly. Tall, with just enough gray around the temples to look distinguished, Neely made an impressive picture. No wonder people around here were flocking to him as if he were the answer to the second coming.

“I appreciate you bringing me, Raymond.” Court plowed his hand through his hair and settled his black Stetson into place, then shifted uncertainly, playing his part. Good old Raymond had swallowed the act hook, line and sinker the moment he and Court met at the Watering Hole. The guy was desperate to bring in a few new recruits. “I’ve been back a couple of weeks already and haven’t quite figured out what I want to do with myself. I’m sure glad I ran into you yesterday.”

That wacky grin split the other man’s face again. “Whatever you’re looking for, buddy, you’ll find it right here.” Raymond ushered Court down the steps, anxious to show him around. “Joshua provides us with everything we need, and all he asks in return is loyalty.” He fixed Court with a you-know-what-I-mean look. “Complete loyalty.”

Before Court could utter the response poised on the tip of his tongue, a tall figure, definitely female, rushed around the corner of the building and skidded to a stop directly in front of them. Raymond backed up a step to let the woman, who was clearly in a hell of a hurry, pass. Court surveyed her speculatively, then froze. His heart dropped all the way to his well broken-in boots.

Sabrina.

For a full ten seconds all he could do was look at her. Still tall and thin, with a luscious mixture of caramel-and-honey-colored hair falling around her shoulders, she stared right back at him. Those eyes—Court swallowed tightly—dark chocolate brown, wide with long lashes tipped in gold. Right now those gorgeous eyes were registering the same shock as Court’s own no doubt were. God, it felt like a lifetime since he’d seen her.

“Court?”

His name was hardly more than a whisper on her full lips, but the sound was enough to snap him out of the trance he’d drifted into.

“What’re you doing here?” A questioning frown pleated her smooth brow.

“Court’s my new recruit,” Raymond enthused before Court could fully gather his wits. “You know him, Sabrina?”

She knew him, all right. Adrenaline pounded through Court’s veins. Sabrina Korbett was the only person in this godforsaken place that knew he was a special agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

“Yes,” she said, confused. “But I thought—”

“It’s been a long time,” Court interrupted smoothly as he grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her against him. “Too long.” Inclining his head to the right, he closed his mouth over hers before she could fully comprehend his intent. She tensed, but in no time at all she surrendered to his kiss…just like before.

She was soft, and warm, and her mouth opened for his as if two years hadn’t passed since they’d laid eyes on each other. As if…the past hadn’t happened at all. He accepted her instinctive invitation, his tongue sliding along hers, his fingers automatically tightening around her slender arms. The same need that had always filled him when he so much as looked at Sabrina washed over him now, making him weak with want, making his blood boil in his veins.

“Guess you know each other pretty well. I’ll… ah…just wait over by the training center,” Raymond announced, breaking the fragile connection that had whisked Court back into the past he’d tried so hard to forget.

Sabrina flattened her palms against his chest and tried to push him away. He knew he had to stop, but, damn, he didn’t want to. The feel of her touch, even knowing that she was pushing him away, arced through him.

“Stop,” she managed to blurt between his stolen kisses.

Court drew back just far enough to look into those wide, startled eyes. He focused his most intimidating glare down at her. “You don’t know me anymore, Brin, so don’t say anything we’ll both regret.”

She wrenched out of his grasp and glared back at him. Court knew the instant she’d made her decision. He braced himself for the blow.

Sabrina slapped him hard.

He deserved it.

“I don’t know what you’re doing back here, Court Brody,” she said hotly, her breath still ragged from his kiss. “And I don’t care, but I want you to stay away from me.”

Court held her gaze for two beats longer, as difficult as that proved with her glaring daggers at him and his lips yearning to mate with hers once more. “Just remember what I said, and we’ll both be safe.”

She blinked and uncertainty replaced some of the fury in her eyes. “Is…this some sort of undercover job?” Anxiety tightened the pretty features of her face. “You’re not…are you here to—”

He forced a bitter laugh. “Hate to disappoint you, but I’m not that guy anymore. You don’t know me.”

He walked away without looking back. His heart skipped a beat or two as he struggled to calm his breathing. Raymond was waiting, probably wondering what was up with the little episode of “remember when” that Court and Sabrina had just played out. Now he’d have to figure out a way to explain that kiss.

Damn.

Just what he needed—he swore again—to get his cover made before he even got started with this assignment. Court blew out a breath as he strode in the direction of the training center. It never once entered his mind that he might run into her at this militia compound. Sabrina should be married and raising a family by now. Court clenched his jaw at the thought of her with another man.

She sure as hell didn’t belong to him. And Sabrina Korbett was a distraction he didn’t need right now. Especially not here.

Getting into the compound had been easy.

Now all he had to do was stay alive until he got the information he needed.

But Sabrina knew his secret. If she told anyone what she knew, all the information in the world wouldn’t do Court any good.

Because he’d be a dead man.




CHAPTER ONE


WHY HAD HE come back here?

Halfway down the mile-long dirt-and-gravel driveway, Court Brody slowed the old truck he had purchased for this assignment to a stop and surveyed the Lonesome Pony ranch. Though not the same ranch he had grown up on, the scene was all too familiar. A wide stream curved through the property like a winding snake. The towering mountain ranges served as a backdrop for a picture straight off the pages of a calendar. A large barn and corral sat in the distance, beyond the trees that bordered the house and yard. Though more modern, the big rambling house with its sprawling front porch reminded him of the one he hadn’t lived in as a kid growing up in Montana.

Nope. His family had occupied a much smaller place just far enough away from the big house to know he didn’t really belong, but not quite far enough away to ignore what he was missing. Court swallowed the bitterness that welled in his throat at the memories.

His family had been dirt poor. Once his pathetic excuse for a father had died, he and his three bothers had scattered apart like so much dust in the wind. But he had landed on his feet. He’d gotten his college degree by working hard and earning a scholarship. Then he’d joined the Bureau. He had what he wanted now—money, prestige and a great condo as far away from this damned place as he could get and still remain in the continental United States. His brothers hadn’t done so badly either.

“Enough, Brody,” Court grumbled. Coming back here wasn’t his idea, but he would make the best of it because it was his job. And Courtland Brody never failed at his job. He was good. He knew it, and the Bureau knew it as well. If Daniel Austin and the rest of his Montana Confidential crew didn’t know it yet, they soon would. Whether they ever wanted to admit it or not. Court knew the business of undercover work.

A division of the Federal Department of Safety, Montana Confidential worked in a way the Bureau couldn’t. The agents lived and worked a ranch, thus blending in with the locals. The Bureau, acting as Big Brother, offered to lend a hand in getting the Montana operation off the ground. Translation: Court’s new assignment, infiltrate the militia and determine what leader Joshua Neely was up to. Not such a bad assignment had it been any place else on the planet. There were far too many memories here that he didn’t want to relive. Too many faces he didn’t want to see…couldn’t bear to see.

Disgusted with himself for loitering in the past, Court drove the rest of the way to the house and parked behind Daniel Austin’s truck. It was Saturday and most of the crew appeared to be on the porch enjoying the late August afternoon. Thankfully it wasn’t as hot as it had been the past couple of days. He might as well get this over with. Court emerged from the vehicle and strode toward the house.

Not surprisingly, Dale McMurty was the first to greet him. Dale and her husband, Patrick, were locals and friendly to a fault. Exactly the kind of people he’d left behind eleven years ago. He didn’t want anyone close, and the McMurtys liked to get close. The elderly couple served as caretakers for the ranch Montana Confidential used as a home base. Just one more reason he was glad to be bunking at the compound now.

“Howdy, Court,” Dale shouted, hands propped on her apron-clad, ample hips. She appraised him from head to toe as he stepped up onto the porch. “Now, that’s more like it, son. You look like you belong on a ranch instead of in some big fancy office.”

Court couldn’t prevent the half smile that tilted one side of his mouth. Leave it to Dale to praise his thrift-store finds. He needed to fit in, therefore faded jeans and worn shirts were a must. But the boots and hat were his own. Some things a man couldn’t compromise on. No matter how long he lived in the city, he didn’t think he would ever find anything that wore better than a good pair of boots.

“You look like the Marlboro man,” Whitney MacNair, Austin’s executive assistant, noted, approval in her crisp voice. As usual, she looked like a model off the cover of Cosmopolitan magazine.

“Thank you, ladies,” Court acknowledged with a tip of his hat. Dale was likely just being nice, Court knew, but Whitney—the fashion queen—was another story. “I couldn’t exactly waltz into Neely’s compound wearing Armani, now could I?”

Whitney pretended to consider that option for a moment, then grinned. “Guess not, cowboy.”

Court resisted the wicked urge to ask her if she knew the UPS man on a first-name basis yet. The wilds of Montana might not offer a Gucci store for the diehard in-vogue shopper, but Whitney had discovered a direct connection to her favorite big-city shops on the Internet. And UPS was more than happy to deliver.

Frank Connolly, one of the agents assigned to Confidential, nodded a hello in Court’s direction, but he was too busy attending to his new wife to pay Court any real mind. And C.J. definitely had eyes only for Frank. She shot Court a quick smile just the same. He had to admit that the two made a nice couple. A wistful feeling welled inside of him, but he brutally squashed it. He didn’t need a relationship like that…he had the Bureau.

Jewel, the McMurtys’ usually vivacious twelve-year-old granddaughter, looked about as solemn-faced as a lonesome filly separated from the rest of the herd. Court wondered if Frank and C.J.’s wedding was the reason for her sad expression. The kid had herself a king-size crush on the ex-military pilot. Frank’s sudden marriage to C.J. obviously didn’t sit well with the kid. Well, Court could certainly sympathize with that.

Marriage was just like family—overrated.

More greetings were exchanged before Court made his way to the man he needed to see. Daniel Austin, head of operations, stood at the far end of the porch looking out over the ranch. The place was shaping up rather well, Court had to admit. And Austin was the driving force behind the evolution. A former dude ranch, the Lonesome Pony had every amenity one could wish for in the wilds of horse country, including a fancy pool and private cabins. Austin had done a good job pulling this setup together in a short period of time.

Court wondered, though, as he came up next to Austin, if this would ever be enough for the man. Court had the distinct impression that something was missing. Maybe Austin was another victim of the wedding bell blues. The man was obviously still in love with his ex-wife, and missed his son immensely.

Just another reason, Court mused, to steer clear of the troubling entanglement of marriage. He didn’t want to know the kind of regrets and pain being separated from a child could bring.

Austin met Court’s gaze then, and studied him a moment before he spoke. “What went wrong?”

Before Court even opened his mouth, the man knew. He was smart, and too wise for Court’s comfort. Of course, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Court wouldn’t have bothered stopping by so early in the operation unless he felt it absolutely necessary. “I ran into an old friend,” he admitted quietly.

“I thought you didn’t have any connections here.”

Court heard the concern in the older man’s voice. Both knew just how risky this business could be. There was no room for guesswork.

“Just one.” One he had banished from his mind two years ago, Court didn’t add. One he should have forgotten, but hadn’t really—at least not on the level he needed to. And he’d definitely tried.

“Give me his name and I’ll have Kyle or Frank take care of it.”

“Her name is Sabrina Korbett.” Court let go a weary breath. “And I can take care of her myself. She won’t give me up.”

Surprise evident in his expression, Austin asked, “You’re sure about that?”

Court nodded. “She’s the only one who knows. She wouldn’t purposely put me in danger, but…” He took a moment to consider his words. “But she might not understand, so I’ll have to talk to her.” He shrugged. “Make up some kind of acceptable excuse.”

Austin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She’s that kind of connection, huh?”

“She used to be.” Court pretended to survey the landscape he’d just as soon not lay eyes on again. Austin was studying him, attempting to read his thoughts. Measuring the risk.

“I’ve met Sabrina, even bought some mares from her,” Austin told him. “She seems nice enough.” He leveled his too-knowing gaze on Court’s. “But watch your step,” he advised sagely. “A woman can be your best friend, or your worst enemy. Even one as sweet as Sabrina.”

Court suffered his own little jolt of surprise at the knowledge that Austin knew Sabrina. Just another possibility he hadn’t considered. It seemed his old life was determined to get all twisted up with his new one. And he didn’t want that to happen.

“I just came by to let you know that I’m in,” Court said abruptly, effectively changing the subject. “They’re going to make it official at the rally tonight.”

“Let’s take a walk,” Austin suggested.

Court followed Austin across the porch and to the steps. Before he could get away completely, C.J.’s English-accented voice stopped him. “Whitney and Kyle are laying odds on who will walk down the aisle next. What’s your opinion, Agent Brody?” she asked.

Deliberately, Court turned back to face both the question and the lady. Her cheeks darkened as if she’d only just realized how forward her question sounded. “I wouldn’t dream of speculating, Mrs. Connolly, but I can guarantee you it won’t be me.”

A knowing smile tilted the lovely scientist’s mouth. “Never say never, Agent Brody,” she warned.

“When my daddy gets married, I’m gonna be the f’ower girl,” Molly, Kyle Foster’s daughter, announced in her most enthusiastic three-year-old voice, from her position in her daddy’s lap. Kyle only shook his head in dismay.

Court gifted the little girl with a smile and quickly turned away from the other speculative gazes. He didn’t care what they laid odds on as long as they left him out of it. Kyle, the second agent assigned to support Montana Confidential, should have learned his lesson as well. Court had heard the rumors about how the guy’s ex-wife had dumped him and the kid. Court shook his head as he followed Austin away from the house. Walking away from a defunct marriage was one thing, but leaving a kid was unspeakable.

Just another reason that “never” was exactly when Court planned to marry. The image of Sabrina suddenly loomed large in his mind, but he pushed it away. Whatever they had once shared, it was long gone now. There was nothing between them anymore but his guilt, her hurt and a lingering spark of leftover physical attraction.

“The vet stopped by yesterday,” Austin said, drawing Court’s wayward attention back to him. “That prizewinning mare we were lucky enough to purchase was successfully bred with the new stallion.”

Court glanced at the pasture beyond the corral where the stallion grazed. The animal was a beauty. A dark bay with a white blanket and spots. Court propped one arm on the top rail of the corral and surveyed the other mares scattered about beyond the stallion. Mostly quarter horses and Appaloosas, he noted, remembering that the Double K, Sabrina’s ranch, had specialized in Appys. The thought was accompanied by another image of Sabrina and those long, tanned legs. His mouth went dust dry.

Blinking away the image, he snagged his gaze on the one horse that didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the herd. An old gelding—Silver, if he remembered right. A mottled white horse, the color of stonework. The bony old fella wasn’t good for much other than keeping the McMurtys’ granddaughter happy. The girl did love that old horse.

Court snapped his thoughts back to the assignment. Horses weren’t his business anymore. Neither were ranches. Hell, he didn’t even like being here.

“Is there something else you wanted to say, Austin?” Court knew the man hadn’t dragged him away from the others to brag about his breeding expertise. Court already knew more than he wanted to about what people did for a living in Montana. He could teach Austin a thing or two. Including how that fancy helicopter Austin had insisted the Confidential crew needed for rapid deployment could be used for herding horses.

Austin fixed his steady brown gaze on Court’s. “I know you think you’re not one of us, Court, but you are.” He held up his hand when Court would have protested the “teamwork” talk again. “Right now you’re assigned to Confidential, and I expect you to remember that.”

“I don’t think there’s much chance I could forget it,” Court returned curtly.

“You’re a good man, Court, a top-notch agent, but don’t think that will keep me from jerking your butt off this assignment if you ignore my orders.”

Court gritted his teeth against the instant response that wanted to form on his lips. He knew his job…and he knew the chain of command. Austin didn’t need to remind him of either.

“Don’t even think about leaving me out of the loop. We’re a team. Frank and Kyle are part of that team as well.”

“You’ll know everything I know,” Court assured him patiently. “I’ll keep you fully informed.”

“Good.” Austin’s gaze returned to the stallion. “Since I know you’re a man of your word, I won’t worry about that anymore.”

“I’ll check in with you as soon as I have anything to pass along.”

Court turned and strode toward his truck. He would keep Austin informed…that was his job. But if Austin thought Court was going to follow anybody else’s time clock, he had another thought coming.

“Court.”

Reluctantly, Court stopped and turned back to the man in charge. “Yeah?”

“Don’t forget what I said about women. You can’t ever be sure.”

Court nodded thoughtfully, then continued toward his destination. Hell, he supposed his next stop should be the Double K. He had to set Sabrina straight right from the start. And he had every intention of finding out what she’d been doing at the militia compound.

Maybe that way she wouldn’t haunt his dreams again tonight. Hell, if he’d known that last night’s dream of seeing her again was going to be prophetic he’d have avoided today’s confrontation. But he hadn’t known, and today’s little tête-à-tête had proved one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt. He would have to be very, very careful where Sabrina was concerned.



COURT BRAKED TO A STOP in front of the Korbett house and shoved the gearshift into Park. The paint on the looming two-story house was blistered and peeling. A frown tugged at his mouth. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the place in this kind of shape. His father had been handy with a paintbrush and he’d spent a lifetime taking care of the Double K. Court blinked away the memories that immediately surfaced from his childhood here. The old man had been handy with a liquor bottle as well. It dawned on Court then that the house probably hadn’t been painted since his father died fourteen years ago. His frown deepened again as his gaze shifted to the barn, then the fenced pastures. The whole place was in pretty sad shape.

Where were the horses? He surveyed the empty pastures again. The place had a definite empty feel to it.

The driver’s side door groaned as he pushed it open. Court slid from behind the wheel and pushed the door shut amid the sound of another rusty grumble. Sabrina’s father had died about five years back, if memory served him right. But Sabrina had seemed fine when Court returned a couple of years ago for his mother’s funeral. But then she hadn’t done much talking about the ranch or her family. And that was the extent of what he knew regarding the Korbetts these days. Discounting the unexpected way his body still longed for hers.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

He and Sabrina had been down that road, and Court felt relatively certain she didn’t want to go that route again any more than he did. I want you to stay away from me. Her warning had been pretty clear, he decided when the memory pricked his ego.

The house where he’d lived the first nineteen years of his life abruptly caught his eye. As if marching the last mile to his execution, Court headed in that direction. The place was set against the foot of the mountain and nestled in the trees. The Korbetts had called it the springhouse, since a wide spring ran between it and the main house and barn. This time of year the flow of water wouldn’t be much more than a trickle. But he remembered vividly the rocks that lay beneath the water. Collecting them had been one of his favorite hobbies as a kid.

Amazingly, the old log-and-chink house had withstood the elements and time far better, it seemed, than the main house.

Court hesitated halfway to the barn. He supposed he should knock on Sabrina’s door and let her know he was here. Judging by yesterday’s reception, he was likely trespassing at the moment as far as she would be concerned. She wouldn’t welcome his presence. Not relishing what he was about to do, Court started toward the porch. He could count on her having questions. Sabrina Korbett had never been the type to let anything go easily—except him. She hadn’t once tried to talk him into staying. His sudden appearance now under what could only be called questionable circumstances would pique her natural curiosity.

But somehow he had to make sure she understood where he stood in spite of the fact that he couldn’t tell her a single thing.



SABRINA DROPPED the feed buckets near the supply room door and wiped the perspiration from her forehead with her sleeve. She dusted her hands on her faded jeans and sighed with satisfaction. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Both the mares would foal soon. Then she would have four horses rather than two. She wished her father was still alive to give her some badly needed advice. No matter how many years passed, she still missed him…missed the way things used to be when she’d been a skinny kid with nothing to worry about except chasing Court Brody.

Sabrina shook the thought away. She would not think about him right now. She had too much on her plate already.

This spring had been the hardest. With the property taxes due and no money to live on, she had come dangerously close to losing the ranch, but Daniel Austin had saved her. He had bought her entire herd save for the two mares. He’d even purchased a small portion of her land to go along with the Lonesome Pony since the two properties bordered each other. Though Sabrina hated to start from scratch, and even worse, she hated to part with any of the land, it was the only way to save the ranch. Austin had paid her top dollar, too.

Sabrina smiled. If she were completely honest with herself, she would admit that he paid her more than the goods she sold him were worth. Either the man seemed to sense her desperation or he didn’t really know the depressed value of things. Now she had the taxes and insurance paid, and she had enough money in the bank to survive on for a little while. She’d even put back a little something toward college for Charlie. She wouldn’t touch that money for anything other than an outright medical emergency. If worse came to worst at this point, she would have to consider a mortgage, and that was assuming she could get approved for a loan. She had nothing left of value to sell.

Except the land, and she wouldn’t sell another square foot of the land her father had passed on to her and her brother Charlie.

They would make it.

Somehow.

Sabrina reached up to turn off the baby monitor just as her fifteen-month-old son let out a sleepy sigh. Emotion constricted her throat as her firm resolve not to think about Court crumbled. If he discovered her secret, what would he say? More important, what would he do? He wanted no part of life here. Hadn’t for years. Would he be determined to take his son from the only home he had ever known?

Fear slid through her veins. She moistened her lips and forced herself to breathe. She couldn’t let that happen. But all it would take was one look. Ryan looked so much like his father. Brown hair streaked with golden highlights. Same gray eyes. Her pulse reacted at the memory of Court’s kiss this morning. What in the world was he doing back here? Why would he come back after all this time? Her lips dipped into a frown. Hanging out with men like Raymond Green and Joshua Neely wasn’t Court’s style. He was smarter than that.

Two years ago when he’d come home for his mother’s funeral, Court had been an agent with the FBI. He’d told Sabrina everything about his new life that night, his enthusiasm had been impossible to contain. She swallowed tightly. The night Ryan had been conceived.

His presence at the militia compound just didn’t add up. Nor did Charlie’s, Sabrina ruminated. Somehow she had to get her brother away from those men. He was only fourteen, too young to understand the evil that men like Neely could do in the name of God and country.

If only her mother hadn’t deserted them three years ago. Sabrina shook her head sadly. Like Court, her mother had been only too happy to leave Montana and start a new life. Too bad she left her old one in an uproar, and Sabrina to raise the son she had no time or patience to deal with. It seemed everyone Sabrina loved was destined to leave her one way or the other. But she could count on Ryan. He loved her no matter what.

Heaving a beleaguered sigh, Sabrina snagged the monitor from its shelf, turned it off and strode out of the barn. She couldn’t change the past. She thought of Ryan, the only part of the past she didn’t want to change. But she could do her best to survive, and to create a good life for her son and her brother.

Sabrina stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders to loosen them up after her barn-cleaning frenzy as she headed back toward the house. She had needed a way to release the pent-up stress related to Court’s kiss. The house sparkled after the scrubbing she’d given the place, leaving her no option but to turn her attention to the barn. With Ryan asleep, leaving the house would have been impossible if not for the handy monitor. Thank God for that invention. She couldn’t survive without the gadget. She had received it as a shower gift. At first she had been reluctant to use it, but that didn’t last long.

Anytime Ryan was asleep, she could do chores and still know that he was sleeping safely in his crib. The monitor was so sensitive she could hear even the slightest change in his breathing. If he woke up, she would know immediately. Her little cleaning venture was just what she had needed to work off some steam this afternoon.

Swiping back a wisp of hair that had escaped her ponytail, Sabrina smoothed a hand down the front of her dusty shirt. Still too flat-chested to worry with a bra, she wondered if Court found her in any way attractive. He’d kissed her. But that was probably nothing more than a spontaneous reaction to seeing her after all this time. She was too tall and too skinny. Court probably had a whole harem of voluptuous blondes back in D.C. She hadn’t been woman enough to keep him. Not even after she’d given him her innocence. Her enthusiasm had pushed him away. He’d wanted to get away for as long as she could remember. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

Her gaze suddenly lit on an unfamiliar truck parked next to her own. She squinted and tried to make out more details about the beat-up old jalopy. The thing looked worse than hers, and that was saying something. As she neared the house she heard several raps against her front door. Sabrina hastened her step, all but running around the corner of the house. She didn’t get many callers these days, and she didn’t want this one to inadvertently wake up her sleeping child. She still had more outside work to do.

Who would be dropping by this time of day, anyway? Most folks she knew were busy working until dusk. God, she hoped nothing had happened to Charlie.

A tall, broad-shouldered man, his back turned to her, stood at her front door.

“Can I help you?” she called hesitantly as she neared the porch. There was something familiar about his stance, she decided just as he turned around.

Court.

A chunk of ice formed in Sabrina’s stomach. Had someone told him about Ryan? Could he know already? She resisted the impulse to shake her head. That couldn’t be. No one knew Court was Ryan’s father. No one but the doctor, that is.

“What do you want?” Sabrina asked coldly.

That gray gaze settled onto hers, and Sabrina’s heart took an extra foolish beat. How could any man look that good? Mile-wide shoulders, lean waist. She shook herself. This was no time to be admiring Court’s many physical assets. He was standing on her porch, only a few feet from where Ryan lay sleeping. She suddenly remembered the monitor she held and quickly tucked it into the back of her waistband. Her heart bumped into high speed.

“We need to talk, Brin.”

His voice was low, steady, and too gentle. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to look at him. “I’d like you to leave, Court,” she said sternly. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”

Sabrina stood her ground near the steps. She would not give him any remote hope that he might be invited in. To her utter relief he moved across the porch and down the steps, his slow, fluid movements making it difficult for her to breathe. There had always been something about the way he moved. It was more than mere male cockiness…something sensual yet predatory.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He slowly rotated his hat in his hands, his gaze seemingly uncertain. Could he be nervous? She almost laughed out loud at that notion. The one thing Court Brody had always been was absolutely certain of himself. And with good reason. He was strong, powerfully built, and more intelligent than any man she had ever known.

But his heart was hardened with bitterness and resentment. And nothing Sabrina had ever done had changed that.

“I wish you’d reconsider, Brin.”

He still called her Brin. No one but Court had ever called her by that nickname past the age of fifteen. Not even her father.

“Don’t call me that.” She swiped her damp palms against her thighs. “No one calls me that anymore.”

“I need you to understand how important being a part of the militia is for me.”

His words stunned her. “You are kidding?” she blurted. “You don’t see through Neely?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I thought you were some big, hotshot FBI agent. What happened, Court? Did you get bored with that, too?” Lord knew the man had a restless streak a mile wide, one that cut straight through that rock in his chest he called a heart.

He blinked but gave away nothing of his feelings. Just like always, she would never know what he was really feeling.

“I don’t want to talk about the Bureau or D.C.” He stared at the ground a moment. “I’m trying to put that behind me.” His gaze latched onto hers once more. “I want to start over. Here.”

If she’d thought he’d stunned her before, she was completely astonished now. “Here?” she parroted. “Now I know you’re joking.”

A muscle twitched in his chiseled jaw. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Sabrina laughed dryly. “It’s downright unfathomable.”

Irritation marred his handsome features. “Be that as it may, I’m back. I don’t think folks around here would understand about my time in the Bureau. I’d rather you didn’t mention it.”

“I see,” she replied with sudden clarity. “You don’t want Brother Neely to know you were once an actual fed, is that it?”

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be, Brin,” he warned. This time there was nothing at all gentle about his tone.

He stepped nearer…too close. Sabrina held her ground, despite the butterflies taking flight in her stomach.

“No one else knows but you,” he reminded in a low, lethal tone that sent shivers skittering up her spine. “But I’m not worried ’cause I know you wouldn’t do anything to make trouble for me.”

He had her there. No matter what he’d done in the past. No matter how badly he had hurt her. Sabrina would never do anything to hurt him—except keep her own secret. But that was to protect Ryan, she rationalized, when she knew damn well it was to protect herself. She couldn’t lose her son. No way.

She remembered to exhale. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it,” she said tightly.

Those silvery depths softened then, and he almost smiled. The quirking of his lips was so subtle that had she not been looking at him so intently she would surely have missed the movement. Her pulse fluttered at the absolute beauty of those lips.

“I owe you,” he murmured, even closer now.

Panic trickled through her, slowing her body’s instant fight-or-flight reaction to his proximity. Ryan could wake up any moment and start screaming for his mommy—or worse, he could climb out of the crib and toddle onto the porch. That image opened the floodgates of her anxiety.

“I’d like you to leave now, Court.” She started to take a step back, but he moved again, stalling her. His hand came up to her face, and those long, tanned fingers smoothed that forever-errant wisp of hair from her cheek. Warmth spread through her so fast that it made her light-headed. How could a mere touch affect her so?

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Brin.” He searched her eyes, looking for forgiveness or maybe just trying to read what he saw there. “I hope you know that.”

“We’re not talking about the past, remember?” she protested, however shakily.

He swallowed hard. She watched the slow movement of muscle beneath smooth, tanned skin. “Right.” He studied her face a moment longer, as if committing to memory the changes time and worry had wrought.

“Goodbye, Court.” This time Sabrina stepped away from him. She needed distance. And a new heart. One that wouldn’t let Court Brody inside.

“I’ll be back,” he warned, “and then we’ll set things straight.”

Sabrina watched him stalk back to his truck. He dropped behind the wheel, and then drove away. She didn’t move until he’d disappeared in the direction of town—or more accurately, the militia compound.

“Don’t come back, Court,” she murmured, her heart sinking. “I can’t survive losing you again.”




CHAPTER TWO


STILL TIRED FROM yesterday’s cleaning frenzy, Sabrina smiled for her son and ruffled his silky brown hair. He gurgled and cooed, his gray eyes sparkling as he bounced up and down in anticipation of his mother scooping him up.

“Sorry, sweetie, Mommy has something she has to do this morning.” She hated to leave him, but she sure couldn’t take him with her to the compound.

Ryan protested, jerking against the brightly colored sides of his playpen.

“I don’t like the idea of you going out to that place, Sabrina,” Mrs. Cartwright said softly, her aged voice as heavy with worry as her faded blue eyes. “I’ve heard some pretty disturbing rumors about what they’re doing out there.”

Sabrina folded her arms over her middle and turned away from the concerned gaze that studied her too closely. She’d known Mrs. Cartwright forever, and she trusted her completely. “I don’t know what else to do. They’ve offered to let me help with home schooling some of the younger children.” She shrugged. “It’s just for a couple of hours a day.”

The older woman moved to her side and ruffled Ryan’s hair as Sabrina had only moments ago. He babbled his approval at the attention. “But you already work too hard,” Mrs. Cartwright argued. “You don’t need another job.” She shook her head and gazed up at Sabrina. “Especially not at that place and one that doesn’t pay. You should be with your son.”

A weary sigh slipped past Sabrina’s lips. How could she explain that she didn’t have a choice in the matter? “It’s the only way I have of keeping an eye on Charlie. He won’t listen to anything I say anymore.”

“He’s a good boy, Sabrina,” Mrs. Cartwright protested. “He’s just missing a father figure in his life. He’ll come around.”

Sabrina scrubbed a hand over her face and blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. “I know. But, God, couldn’t he have looked anywhere but to Neely?” She prayed that her elderly friend was right and that Charlie would come around…soon.

“Lots of folks considerably older than Charlie are following the man.” Mrs. Cartwright sighed, the effort heaving from her thin chest. “Joshua Neely seems to have what they’re looking for, as frightening as that sounds.”

Instantly, Court sprang to Sabrina’s mind. How could he fall for a guy like Neely? It just didn’t make sense to her, no matter what his excuse. Sabrina had a sneaking suspicion that Court wasn’t being completely honest with her. How could he just up and walk away from the FBI? He had been in love with the whole damned super-agent mystique. He sure hadn’t been in love with her. She suppressed the old hurt that accompanied that thought.

Her gaze drifted down to Ryan. Having given up on his mommy rescuing him from his red-and-blue prison, he now sat playing with his spongy stacking blocks. Court may have broken her heart, but he had given her the one thing that got her through each day—her son. His birth had coincided with the realization that hard financial times were ahead, not to mention Charlie’s plunge into adolescence and his subsequent rebellious behavior.

Ryan made life bearable. She would protect him from the hurtful games adults played. No one—not even Court—would hurt her son. Sabrina would see to that.

“I have to get going.” Sabrina bent down and dropped a kiss on her baby’s sweet head. She forced a smile for her elderly friend. “I’ll be back around lunchtime.”

Mrs. Cartwright followed Sabrina to the door. “Be careful, Sabrina.” She smoothed a hand over the tight bun she’d twisted her gray tresses into. “I worry about you, you know.”

Taller than most women, Sabrina leaned down and gave Mrs. Cartwright a quick hug. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, I’m tougher than I look. Just take good care of my little boy.” Besides, Sabrina didn’t add, with her long legs she could probably outrun most of the men she knew—Joshua Neely and his cohorts included.

Mrs. Cartwright waved goodbye from the door as Sabrina backed away from the house. She drove to the end of the dirt road that served as a driveway to the Cartwright place and then pointed her old truck in the direction of the militia compound. Sabrina glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. How long had it been since she had bothered with makeup? Two years, an impatient voice reminded her.

“You’re pathetic, Korbett,” she accused.

Not only had she dabbed on a touch of makeup, she’d taken the time to French-braid her hair. A haphazard ponytail was her usual hairdo. Sabrina huffed her disgust. To make matters worse she had scrounged around until she found her best pair of jeans and her one almost-new blouse she saved for wearing to Ryan’s pediatrician appointments.

She scowled at the road before her. So what was wrong with wanting to look her best? After all, she was going to a job of sorts. There would be other women there who would probably be dressed similarly. Just because she took a little more care than usual today didn’t mean she’d done it for Court.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered.

Truly pathetic.

Sabrina braked to a stop in front of the gate leading to the compound. She kept her gaze straight ahead as the armed guard—Jed Markham, a man she had known her entire life—inspected her truck inside and out. She clenched her teeth at the fury that unfurled inside her. A twelve-foot-high chain-link fence, topped with concertina wire, protected the compound from intruders. Four manned observation towers stood in strategic locations. The place looked like a military base prepared for war. The hard-core followers, like the one circling her old truck now, even wore military garb.

Jed waved an arm and the gate slowly opened in front of her. “You can pass,” he barked.

“Didn’t find anything suspicious, huh?” Sabrina asked, baiting him sweetly, with a matching sugary smile. “I guess I hid that bomb better than I thought.”

Jed simply glared at her as he worked the wad of tobacco in his mouth until he could spit.

Sabrina rolled her eyes and drove on through the gate. She parked near the meeting hall, which also held the two classrooms, and climbed out into the brisk morning air. Fall was right around the corner. Then winter would be here before she knew it. She dreaded the bad weather to come. If Charlie didn’t come back home to help her—she would not think that way. She would win him back…somehow. She had to make him see that men like Neely were only taking advantage of the good intentions of the people here. She just hoped she wouldn’t be too late.

“Morning, Sabrina,” Lorie Beecham called out as Sabrina made her way into the classroom. “We’re sure glad to have you. We’ve got two new students this morning.”

Sabrina surveyed the dozen or so children in the room. How could people bring their innocent children to a place like this? She resisted the urge to shiver. Someone had to stop Neely before something bad happened.

But who?

Her thoughts went automatically to Court. She forced his image from her mind. She had to remember that he was a part of this now….

He was one of them.



COURT APPRAISED Joshua Neely’s office as he waited for the man to show up for their scheduled meeting. The young man who served as Neely’s personal assistant or secretary of sorts had insisted that Court have a seat and wait since Neely was expected back momentarily. But Court didn’t want to sit. Instead, he paced, surveying Neely’s framed mementos.

Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined one wall. Law books filled most of the shelves. According to the intelligence Court had on Neely, the man held a degree in political science as well as law. The office furnishings were an odd blend of typical middle-management style and more elegant oak pieces probably donated by enamored followers. The only disturbing elements were the newspaper clippings of high profile cases between other militia groups and the federal authorities, framed and hanging on nearly every available inch of wall space. Then there were the banners proclaiming Neely’s position on the law of the land. True Freedom Lies in the Heart of the Sons and Daughters of this Great Land. We Shall End the Oppression.

Court caught himself before he shook his head. Between the rally and a mostly sleepless night in the barracks with a group of particularly fervent followers, he was edgy this morning. Two weeks of hanging out at the Watering Hole, a hangout where one or more militia members could always be found, had finally paid off yesterday. Court moved back to the desk and dropped into one of the available chairs. The undertones in Neely’s speech at the rally and the intense reaction of those present had seriously unsettled Court. This wasn’t the first group of this nature he had investigated, but this one was certainly the most enthusiastic. Yet, it was something more that had him so uneasy. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

There was nothing wrong with enthusiasm, but it was the man who garnered the reactions that disturbed him, he decided. Court couldn’t quite label his suspicions just yet, but a bad scenario was forming in his mind.

Anybody around when that scenario reached fruition would likely be caught in the fallout.

The taste of Sabrina, sweet and warm, abruptly filled his mind, startling Court. The kiss he’d stolen from her had haunted what little sleep he’d managed last night. He had purposely forgotten how pretty she was. Even as a kid, all arms and legs with a honey-brown ponytail that hung to her waist, Sabrina had been too appealing for her own good. She and Court had grown up together on the Double K, and she’d spent most of her days following him around. By age twelve she’d had herself a serious case of hero worship. Only a year older, Court hadn’t minded. Even now the sound of her laughter, the memory of the way those dark chocolate eyes twinkled made him want to smile…made him regret.

Court snapped himself from that pointless line of thinking. That was a different life and he wanted no part of that past. Without success, he tried to blink away the image of how she’d looked when she found him at her door. Flushed, her skin glistening with perspiration from the work she’d obviously been doing in the barn. Though she was still tall and thin, there was something different about Sabrina. Court frowned, trying to pinpoint the subtle change. She was softer somehow, but every bit as lean and strong as before. Sabrina Korbett was only a couple of inches shy of his height of six foot two. He smiled at the thought that he’d never known her to be afraid of anyone or anything. Not even when she should have been…afraid of him, that is.

Court passed a hand over his face and swore at his inability to keep his mind off the woman he’d spent half a lifetime trying to forget.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long, Court.”

Court pushed to his feet as Joshua Neely, followed by his first lieutenant, entered the office. “No problem, Joshua.” He accepted the man’s hand and shook it. “I’ve been reading.” Court gestured to the framed newspaper articles.

Neely nodded, his expression grave. “A sad history of the oppression. I fear it will take extreme measures, perhaps even terrorist-type activities to ever make the government understand that we will no longer lie down and allow them to march over us.” He indicated the man at his right. “Have you met Thad Ferguson?”

Court extended his hand in Ferguson’s direction. “Raymond introduced us last night.”

Ferguson squeezed Court’s hand in blatant challenge but said nothing. Court smiled and returned the gesture twofold, then released the other man’s hand and turned back to Neely. Court felt Ferguson’s glare on him for several more tense seconds. If the man wanted a pissing contest, Court was ready to oblige.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen.” Seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two men, Neely settled into the high-backed swivel chair behind his desk. “We need to get to know one another a little better.”

Adrenaline stung as it flowed swiftly through Court’s veins, putting him on alert. Forcing his tense muscles to relax, he settled back into his chair. “What would you like to know that you don’t already?” No point in beating around the bush. Neely had questions. Court could only hope that his cover remained intact.

“I spoke to Mr. Cornelius in Richmond,” Neely began, then rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers.

Slipping into anti-interrogation mode, Court forced all thought from his mind. He leveled his gaze on Neely’s. “Has Mrs. Cornelius recovered from her bout with pneumonia?”

Neely smiled. “Fully.” He leaned back into his chair, his hands clasped in front of him. “Mr. Cornelius was most impressed with your horseman talents…as well as your marksman skill.” Neely lifted one dark brow. “He raved about your ability to size up a situation and take quick, decisive action. Said he’d never seen anyone track the way you could. Apparently the two of you went hunting quite regularly.”

“As often as possible,” Court agreed noncommittally. Elmo Cornelius was an uncle to a fellow agent Court had worked with for years. Elmo had jumped at the chance to play a part in Court’s cover.

“Mr. Cornelius was rather distressed with your sudden decision to leave his employment. He’s still looking for a worthy replacement,” Neely offered, his gaze expectant.

“After the Falls Meadow incident, things changed,” Court explained. “I realized when the feds murdered those folks for simply standing up against unfair gun control that I had to do something. I hadn’t forgotten the ideals of the Sons and Daughters, and I felt compelled to come home to my roots. To stand up for what was right.”

Neely glanced at the framed article that retold, from the media’s point of view, the bloodbath of Falls Meadow, Virginia. The feds were the bad guys as usual. No one cared that antigovernment elements were springing up everywhere these days. Most were harmless, but some represented a danger to themselves and the surrounding community. It was those few who made it tough for everybody. The unfortunate incident at Falls Meadow had coincided time and locationwise for Court’s cover.

“You want to fight back? To avenge the wrong done to those people?” Neely prodded.

Court pinned him with a look that alluded to much but gave nothing conclusive. “I want to make a difference.”

One of those practiced smiles spread across Neely’s face. “You feel it, too, don’t you, Court?” He nodded his approval. “I thought as much. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I feel very strongly.” About bringing you down, Court added silently. Every instinct warned him that Neely was dangerous. A snake in the grass, Court decided, coiled up and hissing a tune that mesmerized its victims.

“We need you, Court,” Neely said with quiet determination. “These people need you. You’ve received the calling, and I’d like the honor of guiding your journey. You have something special to offer us, I can feel it. We invite you to serve our cause in a position of leadership, Court Brody, as destiny has so clearly chosen.”

“I’m ready.” Court stood and stretched out his hand to the man behind the desk. “I accept your invitation, Joshua.”

Neely rose, clasped Court’s hand and shook it firmly. “Amen, Brother Brody, welcome to our cause.”



AFTER A MORE EXTENDED TOUR of the facilities the compound offered and two and one-half hours on the firing range to observe training procedures, Court lagged behind the rest as they headed toward the dining hall. Yet another surprise had awaited him on the firing range, a large number of recruits were young boys. Most were accompanied by their fathers, some were with their mothers. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised by the sheer number of kids involved, but he was just the same. It rattled him clear to his bones. Those kids could have been him and his brothers.

Stalling in the middle of the quadrangle, Court surveyed his militant surroundings. This was no place for children. The idea of any of the children he’d seen today being hurt or worse made him sick to his stomach. He had to put a stop to Neely. Whether the man was connected to the Black Order, a multi-national terrorist group, or not, Neely was a danger to these people. Court felt pretty confident that these folks only wanted to stand up for their beliefs.

“Court! Court Brody!”

Court whipped toward the adolescent voice that called out to him. A boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen, with brown hair clipped high and tight, and dressed in camouflage fatigues, sprinted in Court’s direction.

Did he know this kid? Grinning widely, the boy skidded to a stop directly in front of him.

“I’ll betcha don’t remember me, do ya, Court?” His brown eyes twinkled, vaguely familiar. A sprinkling of freckles fanned over his nose and cheeks.

One corner of Court’s mouth quirked up at the kid’s unabashed enthusiasm. “You got me.” He chucked the boy’s shoulder…the same way he used to do to Sabrina when they were kids. “Want to give me a clue?”

“I’m Charlie Korbett, Sabrina’s brother,” he replied, as if Court should have known without any reminders. “I remember you from the funeral. My sister told me all about you. She said y’all used to ride horses, climb trees and do all kinds of things together.”

A twinge of unease pricked Court. Had Sabrina told her kid brother about the FBI? It sounded as if she’d told him most everything else. He snapped his fingers and made a sound of disbelief. “Man, I should have known that. I guess you’ve just gotten so grown up that I didn’t recognize you. And I have been gone a long time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Charlie put in quickly. “Sabrina told me you were off doing some important job.”

Court tensed. “She told you about that, huh?”

Charlie nodded with the same vigor that he spoke. “Uh-huh. But she doesn’t talk much about you anymore.” His expression clouded. “Not since the funeral.”

One by one Court’s muscles relaxed from their fight-or-flight stance. “It’s good to see you again, Charlie.”

His freckled face brightened. “I’m glad you’re here, Court. Maybe you can get Sabrina off my back.”

Across the quadrangle Sabrina stopped dead still. Her worst fears were realized when she saw Charlie talking to Court. She hadn’t had a moment alone with her brother to warn him to keep his mouth shut about Ryan. And now it was probably too late. She had to think of something and do it—fast.

Charlie grinned up at Court, his face beaming with pride.

Really fast.

“Charlie Korbett,” Sabrina said in her sternest voice as she marched toward the two. “Why didn’t you come home last night?” She refused to look at Court. She’d seen far too much of him yesterday. Enough to keep her hot and bothered all night long. Enough to make her downright steamy today.

Charlie glared at her, a flush rushing up his neck and across his cheeks. She’d embarrassed him. Sabrina swore silently. That sure wouldn’t win her any points with her little brother. But keeping her secret was the most important thing at the moment.

“What do you care?” He hurled the words at her like missiles intended to wound. He hit the mark.

“Charlie, I—”

“You don’t care about anything but Ryan. Why don’t you just leave me alone.”

Fear paralyzing her, Sabrina could only watch as Charlie stormed away, his long, skinny legs eating up the ground. He’d mentioned Ryan. She tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t flow into her starved lungs.

“Teenagers are like that,” Court offered, his calm, whiskey-smooth voice vanquishing the ugly, screaming silence left by Charlie’s abrupt departure. “They always blow up at the people they love most.”

Sabrina all but staggered with the burst of oxygen that suddenly filled her chest. She jerked with the reality that Charlie had given away her secret. The ground seemed to shift beneath her feet. Her stomach roiled. Court would ask about Ryan next.

“Brin, are you all right?” Court was right in front of her now, steadying her swaying form.

She looked into those gray eyes staring at her with such concern from beneath the brim of his hat and something akin to a sucker punch jarred her to the core. Awareness glittered in those silvery depths, but no questions, no accusations. Relief, so profound, washed over her that she swayed again. He hadn’t picked up on Charlie’s comment.

Thank God.

“I’m fine.” She pulled out of his hold. Warmth simmered where his palms had closed over her bare flesh. “I have to find Charlie.” She started to go, but Court stayed her, the strong fingers of his hand once more curling around her arm. She didn’t want to feel this.

“Let him go,” he urged softly. “He’s angry right now. He needs to cool off. I can talk to him, if you’d like.”

Sabrina’s jaw fell slack. The very idea. “You never hung around long enough before to help out, why bother now?” Damn. She hadn’t meant to say that.

Nevertheless, like Charlie, her words hit their mark. Court’s wince was hardly more than a facial tic, but she saw it. How could she have said those precise words? They were steeped with far too much of what she felt deep inside, they gave away too much.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I didn’t hang around, but I never promised you I would.”

She had to get away from him. They didn’t need to have this discussion. Not now. Not ever.

“Let me go, Court,” she demanded. “I have to find my brother. Believe it or not, some people take their personal responsibilities seriously.”

His fingers tightened insistently as he pulled her closer, but it was the lead in his eyes that made her pulse leap with an inkling of trepidation.

“I would never have guessed you for one to hold a grudge,” Court rasped tightly. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I don’t recall twisting your arm that night. After all, I had just buried my mother. You came to me, remember? And we were both adults. It wasn’t like the first time when we were just kids.”

Fury swept through Sabrina at his words. How dare he break it down to such a simple level! There was absolutely nothing simple about what happened that night.

“You needed me, and I was there,” she managed to grind out, despite the trembling now rampant in her body. She sucked in a harsh breath and tried to calm the equal measures of anger and sexual awareness twisting inside her. How could she still be so drawn to him?

He pressed her with a glare that wilted the last of the starch from her shaky bravado. “You don’t think I appreciate that you were there for me that night, Brin, is that the problem here?”

She jerked against his hold one more time, her fury renewing itself, shoring up her resolve, at his inability to see what was so very clear. “Have you ever thought that maybe a time came when I needed you, and you weren’t anywhere around for me?”

He closed his eyes. He was so close that his warm breath feathered across her lips. Sabrina shivered in spite of herself. Why had she said that? She had to get away from him before she said too much.

His lids fluttered open and that silvery gaze was cluttered with what looked like regret. “What do you want me to say, Brin? I did what I had to do. I couldn’t stay. I thought you, of all people, understood that?”

“Let me go, Court.” Sabrina stumbled back a step at the intensity of the remorse in his eyes. She didn’t want to see it. She wanted to keep believing that he hadn’t cared and still didn’t. It was the only way she could justify her own actions. “Just let me go.”

“We need to set things straight between us, Brin.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Too late.

She yanked her arm free of his touch. “Stay away from me,” she warned. “And stay away from my brother.”

He cocked one sandy-brown brow. “That’ll be pretty difficult since you keep showing up around here and your brother seems to be a part of the movement,” he suggested with that old Court confidence. His stance had already eased into that sensual, predatory male posture that had always made her heart pound in her rib cage. Just like it did now.

“I’m helping with the children,” she said when she found her voice. “They needed another teacher. And my brother is a kid, he doesn’t realize what he’s doing.”

“Then, I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Sabrina swallowed and backed away another step. “Don’t think you can pick up right where you left off, Court Brody,” she warned, ire surging through her. “I’m not the foolish girl I used to be.”

One side of his mouth hitched up in a heart-stopping, sexy gesture. “I never thought you were,” he assured her in that low, husky voice that made her insides quiver.

“I have a life now…one that doesn’t include you,” she retorted, aiming for a direct hit to his enlarged ego. He ignored it.

A frown line suddenly formed between his eyebrows as if he’d just remembered something important. “By the way, who’s Ryan?”




CHAPTER THREE


COURT’S QUESTION reverberated through her, rocking her already crumbling resolve. Sabrina grappled for an answer that would satisfy his mounting curiosity. The longer he waited, searching her face, reading the uncertainty she couldn’t hide, the more suspicious he grew.

A sudden jolt of fury fueled her courage. “He’s none of your business,” she snapped. “In fact, nothing about me is any of your damned business anymore, and you’d better get that notion through your thick skull, Brody.”

His silvery gaze narrowed, then darkened with irritation. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it, that’s the way it’ll be. I just thought we could be friends.”

Friends? The blast of anger she experienced moments before erupted into blazing flames of raging emotion inside her, tightening her throat and chest, sending adrenaline pumping through her veins. He wanted to be friends? He’d stolen her heart so long ago that she had forgotten what it felt like to have any control whatsoever over her own desires or dreams. Then, when it appeared the rest of her life was determined to fall completely apart around her, he waltzed back into town nine years after leaving her behind and took what her foolish heart openly offered just as if he had never left at all. Two years passed without another single word, and now he wanted to be friends.

“Friends like you I don’t need.” Sabrina spun away from his intense glare and practically sprinted back to the sanctuary of the classroom. Her heart slammed mercilessly against the aching wall of her chest. That was too close…way, way too close.

Once inside the meeting hall door, she sagged against the wall and attempted to catch her fleeing breath. She had to find a way to avoid Court altogether. Just being near him shook her, tied her up in knots so that she couldn’t think straight. She just couldn’t deal with another of these high intensity face-offs.

She took another deep, calming breath. She needed to do two things to protect her son and herself. Her plan was simple, she would avoid Court Brody at all costs, and she had to make sure Charlie never mentioned Ryan to him again. That in itself would be no small feat. Charlie questioned everything she said these days. More often than not he argued against whatever she decided. But she had no choice. She had to make him see, without telling him the reason, that Court could never find out about Ryan.

Satisfied now that she had a plan, Sabrina pushed away from the wall and walked toward the classroom to the left of the main hall. As she entered the room, she produced a smile for the dozen sets of curious eyes that greeted her. This was where she had to focus her attention. Whatever happened within the walls of this compound, whatever insanity Joshua Neely had planned, Sabrina had to find a way to protect these children and her independence-seeking brother.

She glanced at the two solemn-faced teachers hovering over Neely’s provided lesson plans. No one else here recognized the truth of the matter. But Sabrina saw it as clearly as day—Joshua Neely was a wolf wearing sheep’s clothing—she surveyed the room again—and these little lambs were his prey.



COURT STOOD IN THE MIDDLE of the quadrangle, barely registering the comings and goings of those around him. He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to sort the tangle of reactions twisting inside him.

There was another man in Sabrina’s life. Court swallowed, the movement restricted by the emotion clamped around his throat. He had anticipated that, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he fully expected her to be married and maybe have a kid by now? Just because he’d come home two years ago, after nine years of living away, and had found Sabrina still single and ready to fall once more into his arms didn’t mean that she would be still waiting.

Court released a long, frustrated breath. Deep down, he admitted, that’s exactly what he had expected. Oh, he could fool himself by saying that he hadn’t really anticipated seeing her. Or that he didn’t even know for sure that she was still around the area. But they would be lies.

In the deepest recesses of his soul he had known she would be here, still running the ranch her daddy had left her. Still holding some power over his heart that he couldn’t quite label…or wouldn’t label. No matter how far away or how fast he ran, something about Sabrina kept a part of him forever attached to this place. The place he never wanted to see again, the place where he’d spent his teen years restless and impatient. The place he’d been ready to watch fade in the rearview mirror of the first vehicle he’d ever owned for far too long before the wish became a reality. The day he’d finished paying for that old Ford truck, he’d kissed his mother goodbye and left Montana without ever looking back, other than the occasional brief visit.

Court cursed himself for dredging up and overanalyzing ancient history. He didn’t belong here anymore, no matter what that small part of him still connected on some level to Sabrina said. When this assignment was over, he would leave, and this time he wouldn’t be back. Once Montana Confidential was up and running full steam, there wouldn’t be any need for a guy like him. An ex-Montana boy. Next time anything went down in the Treasure State, the Bureau would just have to send some other sucker. With the Confidential boys in place, there would be no excuse that they needed someone familiar with the people and the landscape.

“Court!”

Court turned around to find Raymond Green double-timing it in his direction. “Yo, Raymond, what’s up?” He manufactured a smile of greeting for the zealous man.

“Joshua wants to see you in the hole.”

Court frowned. “The hole?”

Raymond grinned, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

The hole was an apt description, Court decided, as he stared into the dimly lit tunnel before him. Raymond had escorted Court into the rear of the training center and down a flight of stairs to the basement, then through a well-stocked storm shelter. Neely was ready for anything, Court decided upon observing the array of stored goods before his eyes. At the far side of the shelter a section of ingenious false storage shelves were pulled away from the wall to reveal a horizontal tunnel that led slightly downward and did a ninety-degree angle to disappear out of sight. Fluorescent lights, spaced too far apart for Court’s liking, provided the dim illumination.

“This way.” Raymond gestured for Court to precede him. Raymond pulled the well-camouflaged door shut behind them, lessening the already low light.

Court remained calm, but his senses were on full-scale alert just in case this was some sort of setup. His lawman instincts had never failed him before, he hoped they weren’t about to now. “Well, this is interesting,” he noted aloud for his escort’s benefit.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Raymond assured him. The man’s anticipation was palpable.

As Court followed Raymond down the few steps and to the left, he absorbed as many details as possible in the poor lighting. The walls were concrete, like a vault. The corridor that lay before them was maybe fifty feet long. Court could just make out two doors on the right, twenty or thirty feet apart. There appeared to be only one door on the left side of the corridor.

Raymond stopped at the first door they reached, the one on the left. He unlocked and opened it. The heavy steel door made a sound that wasn’t quite a groan but something on that order when it swung inward. The eerie sound triggered an uneasy feeling deep in Court’s gut. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his pulse reacted instantly to a surge of adrenaline.

“This is the ammo room.”

Court looked from Raymond to the open door and back. “I thought the ammo room was upstairs.”

“This is the real ammo room.”

When Court stepped inside the surprisingly large room he knew exactly what his new best friend meant. Court surveyed the room and let go a low whistle that garnered an I-told-you-so look and a chuckle from Raymond. The only place Court had ever seen a stockpile of weapons and ammo like this was at the bust of a heavy-duty arms dealer.

“Oh, yeah,” Court agreed, “this is real, all right.” Too damned real.

“I’m tellin’ you, buddy, Joshua’s got everything we need.” Raymond closed and locked the heavy door once Court was back in the corridor. “And he’s got way bigger plans than this.” He jerked his head toward the ammo-room door. “Way bigger. With the Order’s help he’s gonna show those bastards running this country where the power is, and it ain’t in Helena or D.C., my friend.”

The Order? Court’s pulse reacted as his senses moved to a new level. Raymond definitely meant the Black Order. Court adopted his most unsuspecting expression. “Damn, buddy, I had no idea we had this much power. This is incredible.”

Raymond ushered him toward the next door. “I’ll show you ‘incredible.’”

The first door on the right led to a high-tech communications center that rivaled the one at the Lonesome Pony ranch in state-of-the-art hardware, but this one was considerably larger. So, Court decided, now he knew the reason for the two satellite dishes located behind the building. Upon first inspection it would appear that they were used to support the small communications room in the meeting hall and for video-conferencing of training classes in this building, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Two technicians monitored the equipment, paying little or no attention to the intrusion. The man was clever, Court had to give him that. Joshua Neely was networking on a level that no one would ever suspect. This wasn’t just some little half-baked setup he had going here…this was the whole enchilada. Joshua Neely had much more going on than anyone, even Court, had first suspected.

“Now for the grand finale,” Raymond announced as they walked back into the corridor.

“What’s at the end of the tunnel?” Court asked, halting Raymond’s tour to peer toward the far end of the passage. Now that he was closer, he could see that the corridor took another hard left.

“That leads to the escape tunnel,” Raymond explained. “If we’re ever in danger of being overrun by the feds, we can escape to safety. It comes out deep in the mountains.”

Court nodded. “Cool.”

“Damn right.” Raymond ushered Court to the last door on the right. “Now, the one we’ve been waiting for.”

Once they stepped inside the final doorway, Court stood, stunned for several seconds. The room was white—walls, ceiling, floor. So white and so brightly lit that it took a moment or two for his eyes to adjust. In stark contrast to the whiteness, a round, gleaming black conference table occupied the center of the room. Nearly a dozen men were seated around it, leaving two empty chairs of the same polished ebony as the table. Joshua Neely’s larger, more thronelike chair sat in the designated place of honor.

Neely stood. “Welcome, Court.” He indicated those seated around the table with a sweeping motion of his right arm. “These are my leaders, my lieutenants.”

Court nodded first to Neely, then surveyed those seated. Ferguson and a few of the others he recognized, Potts and Beecham. One of the empty seats was to Neely’s immediate left, the other on Ferguson’s right. The men seated didn’t bother to rise, they merely stared at Court, measuring and considering. Raymond hustled around the table and sat down in the empty chair beside Ferguson, leaving Court standing alone outside the strange dark circle.

The Knights of the Round Table. The crazy notion came out of nowhere. Court resisted the urge to laugh out loud at the ridiculous thought. He started to speak, but one of the men, Greg Potts, if Court remembered correctly, rose from his chair, cutting off his question. He’d noticed the quiet, soft-spoken man before. As yet, Court hadn’t figured out just what his expertise was. But if he worked this closely with Neely, Potts had something on the ball. Potts walked deliberately to Court and embraced him.

“Brother,” he said before releasing Court.

Court blinked, uncertain what was expected of him. “Brother,” he replied hesitantly.

One by one, each of those seated followed suit. Ferguson was the last to approach Court. The embrace as well as the greeting was forced. This man, Court knew at that instant, would be his most powerful enemy. He’d been getting bad vibes from him since day one.

When Ferguson would have backed away, Court drew him closer. “Brother,” he murmured fervently.

Ferguson tensed, fury in his gaze when he drew back. The gauntlet was down now. Court watched Ferguson retreat to his station on Neely’s right. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, Court reminded himself silently. That would keep both of them out of trouble. Court restrained the smile of secret amusement that twitched one corner of his mouth.

“Brother Brody,” Neely announced, drawing Court’s attention to the one remaining person in the room who had not participated in the little ceremony.

“Come forward, brother,” Neely instructed.

With the others watching his every step, Court moved toward Neely. They’d already given him one induction last night. What was this all about? Maybe Neely just enjoyed the pomp and circumstance of it all.

“Last night we welcomed you to our brotherhood,” Neely began as if reading Court’s mind. “Today, brother—” he placed a hand on Court’s shoulder “—we welcome you into the ranks of our leaders.” He gestured to the vacant chair at his left. “Take your place of honor among those who, like you, possess the special gift. The calling.”

Court sank into the designated chair, his gaze fixed on Neely’s. Something in that pale blue gaze sent a chill straight through him.

“Now, Brother Brody, select your challenger,” Neely directed.

“Challenger?” Court schooled his expression so as not to show his unease or his surprise. Whatever test Neely had in mind, he would deal with it. Anything to maintain his cover. But it was always an advantage to know what “it” was.

Neely nodded. “Each new lieutenant must endure the challenge, a simple survival test, in order for us to know that he is pure of heart and thought. You will select the man from among these pure ones before you, and that one will be your challenger.” Neely looked from one attentive face to the other. “At midnight on this night you will be blindfolded and taken deep into the wilderness. Your challenger will be in pursuit at half past the hour. The men in this room are highly trained, as I’m sure you well know. If you survive until dawn, you will remain in this place of honor.”

Anticipation of the unexpected battle instantly sharpened Court’s senses. He scanned the men around the table. Raymond would probably be his wisest choice. Though Raymond was a good marksman, and a more-than-competent opponent in hand-to-hand combat, Court was well enough acquainted with the man to know his weaknesses.

“One month has passed since this circle was complete,” Neely continued, no doubt loving the sound of his own voice. “It is time we replaced our fallen warrior. Make your decision and we shall be done with formalities.”

Court had a pretty good idea that the so-called fallen warrior was the man charged with killing a Livingston businessman last month. Running for political office, the businessman spoke out vehemently against the militia, making himself a target. The shooter had turned the gun on himself when threatened with capture. To prevent interrogation, no doubt, thus protecting Neely. Of course, there was no way to prove whether the man had acted on his own or under orders from his esteemed leader.

Whatever the case, Court now had the opportunity to slip into the upper echelon. All he had to do was pass Neely’s little test. Court studied those seated around the table a moment longer. If he selected Raymond, Neely would know he had taken the easy way out. This was a test, and Court had to prove his worthiness. Finally, his gaze settled onto the man he would seriously enjoy taking down a notch or two. “Brother Ferguson is my choice,” he announced.

Ferguson smiled, a gesture rich with malice and anticipation. “It will be my pleasure, Brother Brody.”

“Excellent choice, Brother Brody,” Neely commented, obviously pleased. “I am certain that you will prove an outstanding lieutenant.”



SABRINA CLOSED ONE EYE and focused on the target. She pulled the trigger and hit a little to the left of the outermost circle of the bull’s eye. She swore. She could do better than that. Her father had taught her how to handle a rifle when she was only twelve years old. Just as she had taught Charlie. Frustrated, she jerked off the ear protection and swiped the perspiration from her brow.

She considered the requirement for teachers to participate in basic combat training pretty stupid. She was only here to keep an eye on her brother and to help the children. Leaving her son with Mrs. Cartwright and coming here for this wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. She frowned, tired and irritated. Then again, maybe she did need to know more about how to defend those children as well as her brother. Though she was a pretty good shot, she could be better. And it might just save Charlie’s life. As well as her own.

Determined to try harder, Sabrina tossed the annoying ear protection to the ground and assumed the firing position once more. She zeroed in on the center of the bull’s eye. Her finger snugged up to the trigger—

A hand suddenly pushed her left elbow a bit higher. Before she could look up and see who’d adjusted her stance, a strong arm snaked around her middle and pulled her against a hard male body. She gasped, startled. A big foot kicked hers farther apart, forcing her to lean into the wall of muscle now wrapped around her.

“Your feet need to be shoulder-width apart,” an all-too familiar voice informed her.

Court.

Her traitorous body reacted instantly to the feel of him pressed along her backside. Snapping her composure into place, she tried to pull away.

“What the hell are you doing? Let me go!”

“Don’t make a scene, Brin,” he murmured against her hair. “You’ll make people suspicious.”

She stilled. He was right. Though she didn’t fully understand how she knew, she did. “Take your hands off me,” she hissed for his ears only.

His arm tightened around her, grinding her bottom into his hardening arousal. Sabrina stifled another startled gasp. She wasn’t the only one reacting here. The feel of him uncoiled fingers of warmth in her middle that reached outward, heating her all the way to her skin.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Aim your weapon,” he ordered, his breath warm against her cheek.

Sabrina obeyed. She could feel his heart pounding as hard as her own. She resisted the urge to close her eyes and simply revel in the clean, masculine scent that folded around her, to sag against the strength of his muscular frame.

“Keep your elbows up.”

His voice was rougher, huskier, his body harder. However foolish it was, a pleased smile lifted the corners of her mouth. Determined to prove herself, she took aim and fired, hitting well within the rings of the bull’s eye, if not dead center. Struck with sudden wicked inspiration, she shifted her hips a bit. A groan wrenched from his throat. Desire thrilled through her at the sound.

Court’s wide palm pressed into her belly, holding her still. “You’re playing with fire, Brin,” he warned, his lips moving against the sensitive skin near her ear. “And you might just get burned.”

“You’re the one with the hard-on, Brody,” she returned flippantly. “Not me.” She readied her rifle once more, proud of herself for the witty comeback.

He reached to adjust her arm, purposely brushing her breast, then drew his hand away so slowly that his fingers slid over her nipple, testing the tightly budded peak beneath the thin cotton of her blouse. Her breath stalled in her lungs at the sting of desire that barbed straight to her core.

“Hmm.” The sound rumbled from his chest. “I’d say we’re about even.”

A mixture of hurt, anger and frustration exploded inside her. She dropped her weapon to her side and whipped around in his hold, putting herself nose-to-nose with him.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone, Brody?” She almost jerked back at the feel of his hard arousal pressed against her belly, but she held her ground. The heated blood rushing through her veins roared in her ears, made her body tingle, made her skin burn, made her want to surrender to the power he held over her…still. He felt so strong and steady. But he wasn’t. He would only leave her again. Just like before. And she had to protect Ryan from the kind of pain she had endured. Tears welled in her eyes.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze burning with the same desire and want that whirled inside her, beneath all the other mixed-up emotions. How could she feel this way about him? How could she want him so? Need him so desperately? She was tired, that’s all. Tired of handling the crushing burdens of her slowly unraveling life alone. But Court was not the answer to her prayers. She knew that if she knew nothing else. He would leave her behind again.

“Be careful, Brin,” he murmured. “I understand your need to see after your brother, but there’s a lot of danger here, things you can’t possibly know.” He inclined his head, forcing her to keep eye contact. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to be extremely cautious in what you say and do.”





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