Beyond the Darkness (31 page)

She looked at Pope, startled at his new appearance. His hair was dark brown, thick and rough cut. And in those eyes she saw the mirror of her pain.

She turned back to Cheveyo, holding onto his words that night after they’d first made love. How would he walk away from her now? How was she supposed to walk away from him?

In a hoarse voice, he said, “I’ll make you a flight reservation to go home. My place isn’t fit to stay in.”

She nodded, though he wasn’t looking at her. “Pope, what will you do?”

“Make a life, I suppose. Find a place to live in Annapolis, perhaps.”

That made her smile. “Close to your family. We are your family, after all.”

He smiled back. “Yes. I have identities that I can use, histories and appropriate paperwork. But I don’t have them with me, so I cannot fly. We could rent a car and drive together.”

“You’ll stay with me until you integrate into a new life,” she said with a nod, the matter settled.

“Thank you. I will watch out for anomalies, as you have been doing.” He directed that to Cheveyo. “I will keep in touch with you.”

“Yes, let me know.” That warrior’s light shone in his eyes.

It sank her heart.

“But before we go, we shall get your house in order,” Pope added. When Cheveyo began to protest, he added, “I’ll brook no argument. Petra and I can handle the disarray.” She swore he winked at her. “Then we will depart.”

Cheveyo didn’t look grateful, only resolved. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Chapter 23

T
heir car reservation was for the following day. Together with Cheveyo, Petra and Pope had spent the last day repairing the house. Cheveyo worked himself into exhaustion, banging away late into the night until she’d already given up and gone to bed. He fell into his deep sleep the moment his head hit the pillow and woke before she did. Before then, she would have never thought one could avoid someone else when they were sharing a bed. She wore pajamas to sleep, he wore cotton pants. He would not send her from his bed, but he would not let himself be tempted, either.

She paused as she dropped the last of the broken wood from inside the house onto the pile by the steps and watched Pope and Cheveyo set the new window in place. Both men were shirtless, and Cheveyo’s chest glistened with sweat. They’d been working all morning.

Pope didn’t sweat. It was still odd to see him looking so different. So human. She loved that he was coming back with her, but it didn’t assuage the ache that wracked her body and strangled her heart like a vine. Turning away from them, she walked along the front porch to the decrepit garden. Speaking of vines . . . She crouched down and started pulling out weeds, but her gaze kept going to the porch. To Cheveyo.

He was watching her, too, but shifted back to the task at hand. What she felt for him, it was different than the longing she’d once felt for Lucas. Back then she’d thought she needed someone to complete her. She’d seen her friends as halves of a whole, seen herself as a lone half. For a while she’d thought Cheveyo was her other half. Now she knew she was whole by herself, and so was he. She didn’t need him to complete her, but she did need him.

She yanked a stubborn weed out with a grunt and tossed it aside. Damn it, she needed him in her life. She was stuck with him in her heart. Her fingers dug into the dry dirt.

“What am I doing? If he doesn’t care about this stupid garden, why should I?”

Still, she kept on weeding. It was mindless work that was satisfying. Once she’d amassed a pile of landscape refuse, she turned again to the house. It spoke to her, with its simple lines, front porch with rockers, and the windows that reflected the late afternoon cloudy sky. And Cheveyo, standing on the porch alone watching her, his hand resting against one of the heavy posts. The sight of him made her ache, and she turned and attacked more weeds. It could be a nice garden. Just the right size for some carrots, broccoli, maybe even cucumbers. Definitely herbs. With a border of flowers, just for fun.

She unearthed a tiny tomato hiding beneath the brown vines. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? Fighting to survive without water, food, or love.” She sighed. “Should I fight? Should I be stubborn?” She pulled another weed, leaving the tomato in its place. “He’s already made it clear that all he cares about is his cause. And it’s a good cause. Who am I to tell him, to beg or plead with him, to give it up? I suppose that would be selfish. And frankly, I can’t stand rejection again.” She blew a few stray strands of hair from her face, her hands too dirty to do the job. “I’m talking to a tomato. Really?
Really
?”

“It appears that you are.”

She spun and stood at the same time, her cheeks going as red as that tomato. Cheveyo had a soft smile on his face, and sawdust clung to his hair like snowflakes on a dark night.

“I guess you heard all that.”

He nodded. “The important question is, did you hear the tomato answer?”

She laughed, grateful for the levity, then clamped her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m still waiting. Have any answers?”

He dropped the work gloves he’d been carrying, tucking the tips of his fingers into his front pockets. “Should you fight? No, I think you’ve fought enough. Should you be stubborn? Yes. Who are you to tell me to give up my cause? No one can force another to give up something that’s meaningful to him. And yes, you were talking to a tomato.” His mouth quirked. “That cover it?”

“Pretty much.” Without thinking, she flicked away a strand that was tickling her cheek, probably leaving a streak of dirt behind.

He stepped closer, brushing away the crumbs of dirt. “You look good over here, tending my garden.”

She met his gaze. “It was lonely and neglected.” Like him. Like her.

He ran his fingers along her hairline. “And you look good in my bed. And in my home. Except it’s not really a home, is it?” He glanced back at it. “More like an in-between kind of place, a recovery point.”

She felt a thrumming in her chest. She could only nod, not knowing where he was going.

“What I do, it is worthy. It’s been worthy of my sacrifice for a long time. It fulfills me. But not as much as hearing you laugh. Or making love to you. Or imagining what it would be like to walk out on my porch with my morning coffee and see you digging in the garden, or the joy on your face when you find one little tomato. It doesn’t fulfill me like the thought of being in my son’s life again.” He put his hands on either side of her face. “The thing is, I’m not the warrior my father was. I discovered a fatal flaw: I have emotions. I love. And I want to be loved. I don’t know what normal is, but I’m ready to embrace being an ordinary—sort of—guy with an extraordinary woman.”

When she didn’t react, he added, “That would be you.”

She launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, burying her fingers in his hair and kissing him. When she came up for air, she saw Pope watching from the porch, a smile on his face. Had he known that giving Cheveyo this extra time with her would break through the walls he’d built around his life? Maybe the man knew more about human emotion than they thought.

He hugged her close, as though he would never let her go. “I want you to come with me to Phoenix. When I meet my son.”

She leaned back and nodded, her throat so tight she couldn’t even speak. He carried her back to the front porch. “Petra and I are going to clean up and drive down to see my son. Depending on how things go, maybe I’ll bring him up here to meet you.”

“That would be nice.” Pope gave her a wink, the dog. “Perhaps I’ll explore the area more. Maybe go into Flag.”

She slid down to her feet, gave Pope a kiss on the cheek, and led Cheveyo into the house by the hand. Before they reached the door, she turned and said, “Maybe you should stop in that boutique, where Suza works. She senses that you have a good soul, after all.”

Pope rubbed his chin. “Is that a good idea, considering what I am? And what I look like now.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. But sometimes what doesn’t seem wise in the beginning turns out to be just perfect.”

P
etra watched Cheveyo sit down at the driver’s seat of the Tank, take a deep breath, and dial the number he’d looked up. It had only given D as an initial, no name.

“Darcy?” he asked when someone apparently answered. He listened. “Oh. I’m sorry. This is Cheveyo, Cody’s father. I only just found out where Darcy had taken him and I’m on my way to see him now.”

She listened, baffled as to what was going on. When he disconnected, he looked at her with a stunned expression. “Darcy passed from cancer last week. That was her sister, Paula. Right now Cody’s staying with her, but she can’t raise him. She said my call was a gift from God. The boy needs a home.”

She got chills. “Well, let’s go bring him home, then.”

She held his hand during the entire drive down to Phoenix.

“Our lives are about to totally change,” she said, still amazed.

“Oh, yeah.” His jaw tensed for a second, but she saw a hint of a smile on his mouth. “Paula said Cody asked Darcy about me a lot. She told him I was a government agent, something like a spy. I remember thinking my father was a super hero. I knew he was off doing important things. But I missed having a dad in my life.”

She squeezed his arm, thinking of him as that boy, and knowing his son missed having him around, too.

He looked over at her. “Are you going to be all right with suddenly having a kid? We’ll have our own, of course, but being a stepmother to a nine-year-old isn’t going to be easy.”

She couldn’t help the grin that broke out on her face. “You don’t know what those words mean to me. Yes, I’m okay with it. I’m excellently awesome with it. My life, my heart, has been empty for a long time. Now it’s going to be overfilled.” She hugged him, burying her face in his neck and breathing him in. Sage and spice. “Are you going to be all right with suddenly being a dad?”

“Scares the hell out of me.” He gave her a smile. “I don’t expect it to be easy, especially at first. I’m the jerk who hasn’t even come around on his birthday or Christmas. What kind of dad is that? Even a super spy one? How am I going to explain why I’ve never even sent him a gift?”

“Remember, his mother hid him from you. You can’t send a gift if you don’t know where he is. The other part, about hunting alien beings and such—he doesn’t need to know that for a while.”

He laughed, and she loved the sound of it, the way it crinkled his eyes and showed his perfect white teeth. “Definitely not.”

He followed the GPS lady’s directions to the park. His expression became more serious as he parked, got out, and opened the side door for her. She paused in front of him. “Are you afraid he’s going to reject you? I was worried about that very thing not long ago.”

“Maybe I should have talked to the tomato.” He grinned when she laughed, but his smile faded. “I wouldn’t blame him if he spit in my face.”

She kissed him. “It’ll be fine.”

He took her hand, giving her no doubt that he wanted her by his side. They walked across a grass expanse toward a gazebo. A woman sat on top of one of the bench tables, watching a boy playing on the equipment.

She pushed lanky blond hair from her face and got to her feet when she saw them approach, an unsure smile on her face.

He shook her hand. “Been a long time.” He turned toward Petra. “Paula, this is Petra.”

Petra shook her hand, but the woman gave her an odd look before saying to Cheveyo, “So this is the woman you used to call out to in your sleep. Darcy told me about that. She was afraid to ask who Petra was. She felt bad about taking the kid, but she believed they were in danger.” She met his gaze. “Did you have a dangerous job, or was she lying about that, too?”

Petra tightened her hold on his hand, those words surging through her. He’d called her name. Years ago. He gave her a sheepish grin but looked at Paula again.

“I had a dangerous job, but I’ve just retired. What do you mean, ’too’?”

Paula’s face blanched. “Guess it doesn’t matter now. She lied about being on birth control. She wanted out of her situation, wanted someone to take care of her. But she wasn’t just using you. She thought she loved you, but when you have parents who don’t know how to show love, you just can’t be sure what love really is.”

His gaze went to the boy, who was mildly interested in the people his aunt was talking to. Did he see his own image in Cheveyo?

“I haven’t told him yet,” Paula said. “I wanted to talk to you first, make sure you wanted him.”

“I want him.”

“Thank God. I’ve got three kids, two jobs, and no father to give me squat to help them. I can’t take one more. He’s a good kid. I’m sure I’d screw him up anyway. Darcy’s best friend’s been picking him up from school and taking him to her apartment, to help him with the transition. She loves that boy, but she can’t take him either, got some serious health problems. Broke my heart to think about him being put into foster care. When you called, it was like a miracle.”

Cheveyo nodded, sliding her a glance. “I’ve had a few of those myself lately.”

Paula waved the boy over. “C’mere, hon!”

Cody ran over but came to an abrupt stop when he neared them. His blue-gray eyes locked onto Cheveyo. He finally pulled away to look at his aunt, his dark eyebrows knitted together.

“This is your father. Your mama always felt bad that she left without telling him where you went. She was only trying to protect you. But we can make things right.”

Petra saw a mixture of wonder, hurt, and confusion pass over the boy’s face. Cheveyo tried to mask the emotions she knew were coursing through him, but she saw his chin tremble. He sat down on the bench to put himself at Cody’s eye level and held out his hand. “It’s great to see you again. I know I haven’t been around for a while, and I’m sorry about that. But I can be around now, if you want.”

The boy warily nodded. “Do bad guys still hunt you down?”

“No, not anymore. I’ve retired. I couldn’t be without my family anymore.” He held out his hand to her, and she sat down beside him. “This is Petra, the woman I’m going to marry. I want to settle down, make a life in a beautiful home I have just north of here. I’d love for you to come visit. If you like it, maybe you can stay for a night or two.”

Ease him in, she thought. Good job.

“My mom was really sick,” he said, his eyes filled with sadness and uncertainty. “She said she was sorry she couldn’t find me a place to live after she went home to God.”

Her heart almost broke on those words. Cheveyo said, “You could live with us. We could get a dog. Petra’s going to grow us a garden, and if you like tomatoes, you’re in luck.”

She grinned at that.