Her Baby's Bodyguard (7 page)

Which was crazy. He’d spent his adult life avoiding entanglements that would lead to cozy little domestic scenes like the one he’d witnessed tonight. He steered away from women who were nesters. The women he dated knew full well he wasn’t in it for the long run. They enjoyed what he gave them, which usually meant a good time and great sex.

Yet sharing those moments of intimacy with Eva had triggered an instinct that went deeper than the urge for sex. He’d felt a primitive, entirely male urge to protect, to possess, maybe even to belong….

Damn, this situation was messing with his mind. Sure he wanted to protect Eva and her baby. That was his job. And he already knew where he belonged. Right here, with his brothers in Eagle Squadron. He was physically attracted to Eva; it wasn’t any more complicated than that. She was a good-looking woman, he was a healthy male and there were some sparks. So what? The fact remained that she was part of a mission, and that meant hands-off.

He’d meant what he’d told her when they’d met. He took his honor seriously.

Jack belatedly noticed that a man’s shape had materialized from the darkness outside the barn. Where the hell had he come from? Jack automatically brought his rifle to his shoulder as he swung the flashlight toward the entrance.

“Stand down, doc,” Gonzales said, holding up his palm as he walked into the flashlight’s beam.

Jack lowered his gun fast. He had to keep his mind on business. If he hadn’t been preoccupied with Eva, he would have sensed Gonzo approaching earlier—or at least recognized who it was. He glanced at Tyler.

To his credit, junior didn’t comment on the fact that Jack had almost put a hole in one of their teammates. Kurt didn’t say anything, either. He simply took the flashlight from him, propped it between the hood and the windshield so it shone on the engine and continued with his work.

Jack focused on the truck. The faster they completed this mission, the better it would be for all of them. He got antsy when he had to stay in one place for long, whether he was on a mission or on leave.

As if echoing his thoughts, Gonzales spoke. “Hate to break up this party you’ve got going out here, but Duncan’s packing up his gizmos. Weather’s due to lift in the next hour, so we’ve got to roll. Junior, it’s your turn to scout ahead a few klicks.”

The change in the air was immediate. Tyler pushed away from the fender and crammed his hat over his hair. Jack zipped up his coat, his pulse accelerating with the prospect of action this time, not because of thoughts of Eva.

Kurt pulled out the air filter and knocked it against the bumper. “Give me another half hour. I need to clean up the old girl some more or we won’t get another mile.”

“I’ll tell Duncan we move out in thirty,” Jack said, heading out of the shed with Tyler.

Gonzales looked at Jack. “You think you can get our cargo loaded by then?”

“No problem,” he said. “I bet she’ll be ready in twenty-eight.”

“You’d lose that bet, Jack. Never knew a woman who didn’t like to keep men waiting.”

“Not Eva. If Lang’s not ready, she’d probably start off without us.”

“Twenty bucks says you’re wrong,” Gonzales said.

Jack snorted. “You already owe me thirty.”

“Then make it fifty, and you’ll owe me.”

Tyler paused to turn up his collar. “You know the first thing the major told me when I joined the team, Gonzo?”

“Probably something about not spending all your time looking at yourself in a mirror like Duncan.”

“Besides that,” Tyler said.

“Not standing between Gonzo and a grilled steak?” Jack asked.

Tyler looked from one to the other. “I never heard about that. What happened?”

“I’m a man of strong appetites,” Gonzales explained. “So what did Redinger tell you?”

“Never bet against Jack.”

Jack punched Tyler in the arm as they moved outside. “Well, junior, there’s hope for you yet.”

Eva tried to run faster but couldn’t seem to make her legs work. Grandma’s farm was at the end of the road, past the hill with the red barn and the big silo. It was already dawn. The sun rose low and golden on the horizon, sending her shadow stretching like a giant ahead of her. What was she doing outside so early? She should be home in her own bed with the nursery-rhyme quilt and the stuffed horse with the floppy ear she liked to rub between her fingers. She must have gotten lost. If only she could get over the hill she would be able to see the orchard. She could find her way home then.

Yet her feet were too clumsy. The hilltop was getting farther, not nearer….

“Dr. Petrova?” Someone shook her shoulder. “Ma’am, you need to wake up.”

Her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. She tried, because she wanted so badly to see over the hill….

“Ma’am, we’re moving out.”

The man’s voice slid into her dream. She strained toward him. He would help her. She knew he would.

“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. His voice grew closer. She could feel his breath on her cheek. “I know you’re tired, Eva, but you can go back to sleep when you get on the truck.”

The sun, the shadow and the hill dissolved into the smell of wood smoke and the shuffling of booted feet.

For a few cowardly moments, Eva didn’t want to move as she hung on to the last fragments of the dream. She hadn’t had it in years, yet there had been a time—after she’d gone to live with her father—when it had come almost nightly. It had been her last connection to her home in a world that had turned suddenly alien. How many times had she screwed her eyes more tightly shut and tried to return to the dream because it had hurt too much to wake up?

But Grandma’s orchard was gone. Everyone was gone. Eva had learned years ago that she wouldn’t find them again no matter how fast she ran.

“Ma’am?”

Eva finally blinked her eyes open.

Sergeant Norton was leaning over her. Snow crystals shimmered from his hat and his coat. Beyond him, Colbert was using a stout stick to break up the embers that remained on the hearth. The only light came from the lamp that was on the table. The electronic equipment that had been there earlier was gone. So were the bundles of Katya’s supplies.

“We only have a few minutes,” the sergeant said.

Eva’s pulse kicked as she came completely awake. Katya was still sleeping beside her, nestled on Eva’s coat and tucked into the curve of her body. She put her hand over the baby, fear chasing away the last traces of sleep. “Are Burian’s men coming? Did they find us?”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Relax. We’re fine. We’re leaving so we can get to the rendezvous.” He held out his hand. “Let me help you up so you don’t strain your wound.”

She clasped his fingers and levered herself up, trying not to disturb Katya. “Is the storm over?”

“More or less.”

“Where are Katya’s things?”

“I stuffed them in my pack while you were sleeping,” he said, nodding toward the door. The canvas knapsack that he’d taken his medical supplies out of leaned beside the door frame. It was stretched so full it looked round. “They’ll be easier to carry that way.”

She was about to thank him when she realized there could have been another reason he’d taken care of the bundles. Had he wanted to search her belongings for the disk more thoroughly? Eva swung her legs over the side of the bed frame, shoved her hair out of her eyes and looked around for Katya’s carrier. She spotted it on the floor beside the fireplace. “Would you pass me the carrier, Sergeant Norton? I’d like to disturb Katya as little as possible.”

Instead of releasing her hand, he tugged her to her feet. “Sorry, I can’t let you use it. Your wound—”

“My wound is fine. The bleeding stopped hours ago.” She looked back at Katya, then inhaled sharply as she was struck by a wave of dizziness. She tightened her grip on his hand. “How far do we need to go?”

“Around another twenty klicks,” he replied.

“Will the people in the helicopter be there? I thought we’d missed the time.”

“They’ll be there tonight. The timetable just got pushed back twenty-four hours. We arranged a backup extraction scenario when we planned the mission. We try to cover every contingency.” He glanced at Katya. “Well, almost every contingency.”

Eva tugged her hand free from his grip and went to pick up the carrier. She faltered when she saw the rusty-brown patch of dried blood on the cotton. She couldn’t see the blood on her sweater because of the dark wool, and she avoided looking at the stained area on her blouse. But the sight of the carrier reminded her once again of how close the bullet had come to Katya.

“Dr. Petrova…”

“I won’t risk keeping my baby unrestrained again.” She grabbed the carrier, straightening one set of ties as she returned to the bed frame. “Traveling with her on my lap yesterday was foolhardy.”

“So would putting this contraption back on,” he said, snatching the carrier from her. “Those straps would rub directly on your wound.”

“I’m not going to hold her in my arms for twenty kilometers, especially over roads like these. All it would take would be one bad bump or sudden stop and Katya would be hurled….” She paused until she regained control over her voice. “I’ve already exposed her to far too much danger,” she said, holding out her hand. “This is the best way to protect her.”

“We leave in six, Jack,” Colbert said. He picked up his own rucksack and went outside. Ice-laden wind swirled in from the darkness, along with the rumble of an engine before the door slammed shut.

Sergeant Norton tossed Katya’s carrier on the bed frame and unzipped his coat. “Those straps look long enough to go around me. Show me how to fit the kid inside.”

“What?”

“I’ll carry her.”

“No, she’s not familiar with you. When she wakes up—”

“You’ll be right beside her.” He dropped his coat on the floor. “I agree that having her restrained is the best way to keep her safe. Since you can’t do it, I will.”

“But—”

“The longer you argue about it, the more danger we’re all in.”

What he said was true. Her objections were because of her own needs, not Katya’s. She hadn’t been more than a few steps away from her daughter since the baby’s birth. It had always been just the two of them.

“Sooner or later, you’re going to need to trust me, Dr. Petrova.”

Did she? No, she knew better than that. Eva slid her hands beneath Katya to ease her into her snowsuit. Then she put on her hat and mittens and moved her as gently as possible to the pouch in the center of the carrier. “Trust has nothing to do with it, Sergeant Norton,” she said. “This is a matter of expedience.”

“Call it what you like as long as we get moving.”

She eyed his height. “I’ll be able to manage this better if you sit on the bed frame.”

He complied and held his arms out at his sides. “Now what?”

“Hold her while I fasten the ties.”

He brought his hands in front of him palms-up. “Okay, lay her on me.”

The baby stirred when she was transferred to the sergeant’s grasp. He held her stiffly until Eva put her hands over his and guided them toward his chest. “You need to keep her close. She likes feeling secure.”

He spread his fingers over Katya’s back and brought her against the front of his sweater. She snuffled, cuddled closer and settled back to sleep without opening her eyes.

Eva was surprised. Katya had calmed quickly the last time Sergeant Norton had held her, too. It hadn’t been that way with Burian. The few times he’d picked her up, his daughter had begun fussing immediately. Eva leaned down so she could bring her face to Katya’s. “What a good girl you are, kitten,” she whispered. “I’ll be right beside you. We’re just going for another ride.”

“You don’t need to, uh, feed her again, do you?”

Eva could feel her cheeks heat at the mention of what had happened earlier. It had been a natural function, she reminded herself. It hadn’t been sexual. So she shouldn’t think about how close she was to his body. The fact that she was still holding her fingers over his didn’t help. She grabbed the top set of straps and tied them behind his neck. “Not for a while.”

“Because when you do, just let me know. I’ll find you some privacy from the guys.”

She blew her hair aside so she could focus on the knot she was making. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

She put one knee on the bed frame. Taking care not to brush against him, she leaned behind him to bring the remaining set of straps behind his back. They barely met, so it took longer to tie them together. Finally, though, she managed to secure the carrier to her satisfaction. “There. That should hold,” she said, pushing herself back to her feet.

He stood carefully, still cradling Katya with his hands. The ribbons from one of her mittens trailed over the back of his knuckles. He was obviously ill at ease holding the baby—like the other men, he’d be more accustomed to carrying weapons than children. Yet instead of looking awkward, he looked…endearing.

Eva scooped up his coat and held it out. “It’s all right. You can let go of her now.”

He took his hands away slowly, watching as the cotton carrier tightened with Katya’s weight. “Man, she’s tiny. Hard to believe she can make as much noise as she does.”

“My daughter is the perfect weight for her size and her age.” She thrust his coat at him and then retrieved her own and put it on. “And I think we already had the conversation about her healthy lungs.”

“Easy there, ma’am. I wasn’t insulting your kid.” He zipped the front of his coat over Katya. “I just don’t know anything about them.”

Neither had she, until she’d had a baby of her own. She’d never envisioned herself as a mother, either. Her ambitions had involved having her own research project, not her own family. She placed her hand over his to stop him from closing his coat all the way so she could tie the loose ribbon on Katya’s mitten. She pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head, then straightened up and looked around. “Have you seen my hat?”

He splayed his hand over the bulge Katya made as he stooped to reach beneath the bed frame. “Here.”

She twisted her hair to cram it under her hat. “Let me know if you feel her begin to wake up. She’ll often calm down when she hears my voice.”