Cody Walker's Woman (8 page)

* * *

Cody and Keira whirled. Keira’s Glock was in her hand before she realized she’d drawn her weapon; she had only a split second to notice that Cody hadn’t drawn his. And only a fraction of a second later Cody’s left hand came down on her gun hand, making sure she didn’t shoot the tall, dark man confronting them with a Smith & Wesson semiautomatic.

Then she realized the semiautomatic wasn’t aimed at them, and Cody was holding out his hand to the other man. When Cody said, “Callahan,” Keira slowly holstered her own weapon, but kept a watchful eye on the other man’s gun until he sheathed it in his shoulder holster.

“Walker.” The two men shook hands before Callahan turned his eyes to Keira, his brows raised enquiringly.

“Special Agent Keira Jones—Ryan Callahan, sheriff of Black Rock. Among other things.”

Callahan shook her hand and glanced back at Cody, a look of approval in his eyes. “She’s quick, but not reckless” was all he said, but Keira knew she’d passed some kind of internal test on Callahan’s part.

In an undertone she told Cody, “That’s dried blood,” nodding in the direction of the dark splotch on Callahan’s shirt.

“Yeah,” Callahan said. “And the body it came from is lying in my bed at home.” Cody raised one eyebrow in a question that Callahan answered with a slight shake of his head before adding, “Our nearest neighbor—he lived about a half mile away. He showed up at our door late last night, already bleeding out. He was dead before Mandy and I could do anything to save him.” Keira had never heard a colder, harder voice, and Callahan’s face matched his voice. “That’s why we’re here.”

Keira assessed the man in front of her in a way that was second nature to her now. He was older than Cody—somewhere in his mid-forties, she estimated, although it wasn’t always easy to judge ages with men, especially this man. He was tall, too, just a shade shorter than the man beside her. He was as dark as Cody was fair, and there was an alert, wary watchfulness in his tawny eyes that told her he took no risks where he hadn’t already calculated the odds. And while many men his age had started to let themselves go physically, he was as lean and muscled as Cody was—a memory flash of Cody’s lean, muscular frame holding her prisoner the night they’d met made her heart skip a beat.

Callahan looked to be a formidable ally, but looks could be deceiving. And was he as impressive as Cody had already proven himself to be? Keira couldn’t be sure until she saw him in action. She knew from firsthand experience that Cody was incredibly strong, but he was also quick off the mark, with courage to spare. He’d already risked his life for her once, and—

“Where’s McKinnon?” Callahan asked, interrupting Keira’s memories of that night a week ago.

“Guarding our escape route,” Cody replied. “I figured that was your four-by-four, but I didn’t want to take any chances, especially not with the gear we brought with us.”

One corner of Callahan’s mouth twitched into a grin. “You know, Walker, for an amateur you’re not half-bad.” His tone and words were deliberate provocation, but Keira realized Cody wasn’t responding to it. He merely grinned back, the unexpected smile slashing across his face the way she remembered it doing once before.

Callahan was speaking again, and Keira took herself sternly to task.
Stop thinking about Cody and focus on why we’re here.

“Mandy and our kids are in the cabin,” he was saying. “She’ll be relieved to see you—she’s been terrified ever since last night that something will happen I can’t handle on my own.” Keira was quick to note the way his voice softened when he mentioned his wife and children. “There’s coffee already made. Why don’t you go in and let Mandy know you’re here while I help McKinnon unload the truck?”

Cody glanced at Keira. She read his unspoken message and turned away to call McKinnon on her Bluetooth earphone, relaying the news that Callahan was on his way there. Then she followed Cody through the muddy, semifrozen clearing toward the cabin. As they picked their way carefully, avoiding the worst of the mud, Keira asked, “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“What?”

“That remark about amateurs. He knows you work for the agency, so I don’t get it.”

“Long story. I’ll tell you sometime.” He smiled at her as they mounted the porch steps. He reached for the front door and opened it without knocking.

“Cody!” One of the most serenely beautiful women Keira had ever seen raised a relieved and thankful face from the baby nursing at her breast to greet them as they entered the one-room cabin. The woman slid something beneath her thigh before adding, “Thank God you’re here.”

Keira felt an unexpected wave of...not envy, exactly. More like wistfulness. Not for the other woman’s classic features and all-American blonde beauty, but for the expression Keira caught on Cody’s face before he controlled it and dropped a quick kiss on the top of the other woman’s blond head.
No man ever looked at you that way,
a little voice said inside her head. It hurt. And that surprised her. She’d chosen her life deliberately, so it made no sense for her to now long for other things. Soft things. Man-woman things.

Mandy had a small towel draped modestly over her breast as she nursed, and it puzzled Keira until she saw the two other children still asleep on the double bed behind her. Boys, both of them, with hair as blond as Mandy’s.
That must be why she’s covered up—in case the boys wake up.
The pink-and-yellow outfit on the dark-haired baby in Mandy’s arms was a dead giveaway the baby was a little girl.

Keira could no more help assembling random bits of data into a clear picture than she could help breathing.
Three children in six years,
she thought, remembering what Cody had told her about Mandy and Ryan Callahan.
That’s some serious commitment between them.
She wondered why the knowledge lightened her mood immeasurably.

Mandy smiled a welcome at Keira before glancing inquiringly up at Cody, who quickly introduced them. Then she adjusted the towel and deftly switched the baby to her other breast. “Sorry about this.” She indicated the nursing baby and gave Cody and Keira a rueful look that held only a trace of embarrassment. “I’ve been trying to wean Abby, but we left in such a rush last night I didn’t have time to pack any formula or baby food.” Her face turned troubled. “Did Ryan tell you what happened?”

“Not all of it—not yet—but enough.” He moved away from Mandy’s side and headed to the kitchen area to pour himself a cup of coffee, and Keira was unaccountably glad.

“He didn’t tell
me
until last night, after Steve—” She caught her breath, but went on. “We were already on the way here before he told me he called you.” Her blue eyes darkened. “I gave him hell for keeping this thing a secret from me, after he promised...” She stopped, a hurt expression on her face, and then started again. “Don’t be like him,” she begged Cody. “He can’t help being who he is—it’s the way he’s made. But you’re not like him. Don’t keep me in the dark. Not this time.”

Cody swallowed coffee from the mug in his left hand and grimaced, and Keira wasn’t sure if it was in response to the coffee or Mandy’s statement. Then his right hand briefly touched his left shoulder, and Keira remembered Cody referring to a bullet hole, Mandy and a lack of trust. Mandy had shot Cody, and she knew it hadn’t been an accident. She only knew what Trace had told her—that Cody and Mandy had been best friends growing up, but that she’d shot him the night David Pennington had been killed, thinking she was protecting Callahan. But there was more to the story. A hell of a lot more. Keira was sure of it.

Chapter 6

T
he thud of boots on the front porch warned them all, and as Cody reached for his gun, he saw Keira doing the same. When Callahan walked in the front door followed by McKinnon, Cody relaxed and dropped his hand. He quickly downed the rest of his coffee and glanced at the pot on the stove, unsure whether he wanted another cup or not.

The two men stacked the loads they were carrying on and beneath the kitchen table beside him, then turned around and headed back the way they’d come. “One more trip should do it,” Callahan told Cody laconically as they passed him, “if you help.”

Cody chuckled silently to himself as he followed Callahan out. As clearly as if Nick D’Arcy was standing beside him, he could hear him saying,
Callahan was running the show six years ago, but this is
your
case now. The extent of his involvement is at your discretion.

At some point he was going to have to draw the other man aside and let him know—privately—how things stood. But not in front of witnesses. He owed Callahan that much. Callahan had saved his life after Mandy had shot him, even though he’d known by then that Cody had once slept with her.

She hadn’t been Callahan’s wife at the time, but Cody knew that hadn’t made it any easier for the other man to accept...or forgive. Saving Cody’s life despite that said a lot about Callahan’s integrity. Or maybe by then he’d already known he had nothing to fear from Cody where Mandy was concerned.

Cody acknowledged there was probably more than a hint of truth in that assessment. Mandy had never loved him and never would. He’d known it even when he’d made love to her all those years ago that New Year’s Day.
But desperate men do desperate things,
he reminded himself.

For just a moment his thoughts turned to Keira, wondering what it would be like with her. She was so different from Mandy in so many ways. He remembered the feel of her body pressed up against his that first night. Strength. Determination. A fierce will. No, she wouldn’t make it easy for a man to take what she wouldn’t willingly give, but...if she gave willingly, a man would
know
he was something special.

He breathed deeply as he followed Callahan and McKinnon through the woods, taking the crisp, clean air deep into his lungs, feeling the stillness of the mountainside soak into him. Even as part of him turned inward, another part of him was alert and watchful, looking to the left and right automatically, and occasionally checking behind him. He really didn’t think they had anything to fear, not here. But nothing was certain, not where the New World Militia was concerned.

* * *

Michael Vishenko’s office phone rang, and he picked it up automatically. “Yes?”

“We have a slight problem,” the voice at the other end said.

“I see,” he said. “Thank you for calling.” He hung up and limped to the door of his office, closing it firmly. Back at his desk he pulled a cell phone from his center drawer, waited five minutes, then dialed a number. When the call was answered, he said, “What is the problem?”

“There was a small leak.”

“How small?”

“Minor. And it has been contained.”

“Collateral damage?”

“Minimal.”

“Still on goal?”

“Yes.”

Vishenko breathed deeply. “Thank you for calling,” he said and hung up. He stared at the cell phone in his hand for a minute, decoding the code words the caller had used. It was worrisome, but the caller had reassured him they were still on target. That was the most important thing.

* * *

In the cabin Keira watched Mandy in silence. When the other woman finished nursing her baby, she averted her gaze, giving Mandy a little privacy to adjust her clothing back to normal. Then, for something to say, she asked, “What are your boys’ names?”

Mandy placed the towel over her shoulder, lifted Abby onto it and began burping her. “Reilly,” she said softly, casting a backward glance at the two boys still sleeping on the bed behind her. “He’s five. Little Ryan is three.” She chuckled softly. “I have to stop calling him
little
Ryan. Even though they have my hair color, they both take after their father in just about every other way.”

“Reilly?” Keira asked, remembering what Cody had said. “Wasn’t that your husband’s alias, Reilly O’Neill?”

Mandy’s smile faded. “One of them,” she replied, and there was an expression on her face that told Keira this wasn’t a subject to pursue.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Keira looked around for someplace to sit down. But other than the bed and a couple of kitchen table chairs over in the corner, there wasn’t anything to sit on, so she leaned against the wall, watching the other woman in renewed silence until baby Abby fell asleep on her mother’s shoulder.

Keira wanted to dislike Mandy, this beautiful woman Cody loved. But there was just something so basically
nice
about her, something in the way she loved her children so unreservedly. And then there was the way she looked at Cody. Or rather, the way she
didn’t
look at him. Keira wasn’t blind. Cody might be in love with Mandy, but in Mandy’s eyes he was only a good friend. That was all he would
ever
be, and Keira felt a sense of relief.

Cody doesn’t belong to you,
she chided herself mentally, but that didn’t stop how she felt. If was as if a bond had been formed between them that first night—on her part, anyway—when she’d known instinctively she could trust him with her life. The possessiveness she felt toward him was something new—and she didn’t like it.

The sudden sound of boots on the front porch made Keira reach for her Glock even though she’d been expecting to hear it at any moment. But she wasn’t taking any chances. She put a finger to her lips, motioning Mandy to silence, and moved swiftly behind the door.

Cody walked in, followed by Trace, with Callahan bringing up the rear, and Keira took her hand away from her gun. She closed the door behind the men.

“That’s everything,” Cody told her, and Keira knew from his eyes he’d seen—and approved—her reactions as par for the course for a good agent, which she was. He glanced over at Mandy, his eyes widening. Keira’s gaze followed his, her own eyes widening as she saw something she hadn’t seen before. The other woman was holding her baby with her left arm. Her right hand was holding a gun.

Where did that come from?
Keira wondered, her admiration for Mandy growing.

“Going to shoot me again?” Cody teased, making light of the situation.