The Secret Agent's Surprises (Harlequin American Romance) (9 page)

Priscilla couldn’t shake the fog of panic suddenly enveloping her. She stared at her family’s names in the newspaper, completely stunned. She’d known it was coming; it didn’t make it any easier to take.

It was humiliating, but she knew her parents must be heartbroken and ashamed.

She glanced up, finding Pete’s sympathetic gaze on her. Mrs. Corkindale cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Perhaps I’ve come at a bad time,” she said.

Priscilla blinked. This was Pete’s big moment to try to convince the state that he was a fit father for the babies, and the spotlight was on her. “Pete, I think I’m going to go sit in the kitchen and call my folks while you and Mrs. Corkindale talk.”

“All right,” Pete said, obviously worried about her. But she didn’t want him to be concerned; she would be fine. She wanted to get away from his watchful gaze.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Corkindale,” she
murmured, and slipped away. She heard Pete and the social worker move into another room, and though she knew it would be good manners to take Mrs. Corkindale a glass of iced tea, she instead slipped out the front door to catch a breath of icy air.

“What’s happening in there?” Josiah demanded from his place on the front porch. He sat in a rocker, wrapped in a blanket, his craggy face worn with concern.

She looked at him. “Why are you skulking out here?”

“I’m not skulking. I’m eavesdropping.”

“How can you eavesdrop? You’re not even near the door.” Priscilla sat down on the step close to where his rocking chair was. “I don’t remember that chair being on the porch.”

“I moved it up here so I could look at the view.”

“Just now?”

“Yes. Is there a reason my rocker is of such interest to you, young lady?”

“Not at all.” She turned to look at the view he suddenly found so interesting. “Just wondered when you became a rocking-chair enthusiast. I always saw you more as an action kind of man.”

He sniffed. “I’ve still got plenty of pepper left in me, don’t you worry. How’s it going in there?”

“Don’t you know, since you’re eavesdropping?”

He tried to look innocent. “Apparently I’m not the best spy this family has.”

She sighed. “Pete’s big moment could have started off better without me as a conversation item.”

“Meaning?”

“Mrs. Corkindale had read today’s paper, of course. Probably with her morning coffee, after she milked twenty cows. Energetic lady, Mrs. Corkindale.”

“Ah,” Josiah said, “you’re upset.”

She blew out a breath. “I am. And though I shouldn’t have made that persnickety comment, I’ll admit to being highly embarrassed.”

He gazed at her. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Your folks are good people.”

“I know. But Pete had introduced me as his fiancée, and—”

“Aha!” Josiah exclaimed. “I knew you two would hit it off! After a few sparks, of course, perhaps even a forest fire or two, but I’ve never seen two people more perfect for each other.” He beamed, delighted. “This is great news! Congratulations.”

“Josiah,” Priscilla said, eager to make him understand, “it was just a front to help Pete for the adoption application. For the sake of the babies. He asked me to help him look more…”

“Stable,” Josiah said, his grin huge. “More like a family man.”

“Something like that,” she admitted, not pleased that he was still so thrilled.

He looked up at the sky, appearing to thank the heavens. She, however, didn’t feel quite so thankful.
Had she not made love with Pete, if she could call back those wonderful moments they’d shared together, perhaps she wouldn’t feel so guilty knowing that she may have adversely affected his chances with the adoption. It certainly couldn’t look good that his “fiancée” had parents who were in financial distress. And she was in the same boat, a fact that probably wouldn’t be too difficult for the caseworker to learn. Financial distress, particularly a bankruptcy, sometimes spelled “irresponsible” to outside eyes. And worse, it could sometimes even appear that possible shady dealings had gone on.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to fall into Pete’s arms, shouldn’t have come out here today to escape her problems. The worst part was that no matter how much she rationalized all this, making love with Pete had been the most magical time of her life.

“Pete and I are not as alike as you think,” she told Josiah, a bit more sternly than she’d intended. “We’re very different.”

Josiah nodded. “Like cinnamon and sugar. Meat and potatoes. It’s good to be different.” He smiled again. “We’ll go out to lunch after Mrs. Corkindale leaves, to celebrate.”

“It’s just for show!” Priscilla exclaimed, exasperated. “There is no real engagement.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes when a person tries on something for size, they buy. You might decide you like my son.”

She did like his son. That was the problem. Priscilla eyed Josiah, noticing he’d perked up considerably. “Why were you really sitting out here?”

“Taking the fresh air, my dear. It’s good for the old lungs.”

“Josiah,” she said, “aren’t you worried that my family’s problem will affect the adoption if they think Pete and I are to be married?” She shook her head. “The last thing I want is to get in the way of what Pete so dearly wants.”

He looked at her, his gaze soft, and reached out to pat her hand. “It does this old heart good to know that you love my son so much, Priscilla Perkins. You’ll be a fine addition to the family.”

Priscilla broke her gaze from his happy one and stared off into the distance. Loving Pete wouldn’t do her any good. She had her own reasons for not being more than just a temporary fiancée. It wasn’t enough to love someone when you had a secret lurking in your past that affected you every day.

P
ETE CAME OUT
onto the porch with Mrs. Corkindale thirty minutes later. Priscilla couldn’t tell from Pete’s face whether the conversation had gone well or not.

“Thank you for stopping by,” Josiah said, rising gallantly, but Mrs. Corkindale pressed him gently back into the chair.

“Please don’t get up. It is always a pleasure to be out here,” she said. “The scenery is breathtaking.”

Priscilla blinked. The social worker sounded friendly enough. Hopefully that meant something positive. She couldn’t read Pete’s face at all. He walked the woman to the car, even opening her door. The two of them spoke for a few more minutes, then Mrs. Corkindale drove away.

“How’d it go?” Josiah asked as Pete walked toward them.

“Better than I ever hoped.” Pete grinned at Priscilla. “She offered me what is known as a fost-adopt situation.”

“What the hell is that?” Josiah demanded. Priscilla sat frozen, waiting for Pete to explain. It was strange hearing him talk about the adoption as if it was becoming a real possibility. She felt a sense of panic welling up inside her. Had a family once sat and discussed adopting
her
child?

“It means,” Pete said, “that basically the babies are ready to be released from the hospital. For a number of reasons, such as our lack of experience with infants, particularly high-needs infants, they wouldn’t normally consider us. However, since we live in the county, are willing to adopt all of them and have the resources to get help for what we can’t handle, should there be anything, the state is considering us. Basically a fost-adopt is that we would foster them, then they would consider whether we are a good fit for caring for the babies permanently. Adopting them.”

“I raised four hellions on my own,” Josiah stated. “I think I can take care of four helpless little babies.”

“Pop,” Pete said softly, “we don’t want to underestimate the round-the-clock care these newborns will require. You need your rest, too.”

Josiah glared at his son. “Don’t coddle me, Pete.”

Pete held up a hand, his gaze shifting to Priscilla for just a moment. “I’m just saying that I see Mrs. Corkindale’s point. I’m not at all offended that they prefer an adoption with a trial basis. I’m pleased they’re so concerned about the children. Frankly I didn’t think I had a chance in hell of being considered.” He smiled at Priscilla. “I think I owe you some thanks.”

Her heart jumped. “You do?”

“You’re a wonderful fiancée,” he told her. “Thank you for supporting me.”

She shook her head. “Mrs. Corkindale couldn’t have been impressed with me. Not with my family’s news in the paper.” She lifted her chin. “Not that I’m apologizing for my family’s circumstances.”

“We wouldn’t want you to, girl,” Josiah said. “Would you care to take a guess at how many times I had to declare bankruptcy?”

Her eyes widened. “But you’re so successful! I can’t believe you ever mismanaged your affairs.”

“Psh.” Josiah dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. “If I hadn’t mismanaged my affairs, I might still have a wife. But that’s neither here nor there. All work and no play made Josiah
a dull boy—and let me tell you that working real-estate deals is no easy game. I had my share of getting eaten by the sharks. Not to mention, there are years when the economy is good and some when it stinks. I made my share of unfortunate missteps, mostly when I was younger.” He put his hand to her shoulder for a moment. “Learning how to handle my finances became an all-consuming thing for me, but it shouldn’t be a man’s master. Your parents are more fortunate than they realize. They,” he said, his voice deadly serious, “have a daughter who loves them.”

Quick tears sprang into Priscilla’s eyes. After a moment, Josiah got up and headed to the door.

“Congratulations,” he told Pete. “I guess I don’t mind baby steps, if that’s the way I have to do it—and yes, I know I made a pun. Not that I’m joking about this.” He clapped Pete on the back. “Good work.”

He went inside. Pete stared after his father. “He doesn’t look all that strong to me these days,” he said to Priscilla.

“I know.” Priscilla surreptitiously wiped her eyes and looked away. She was falling for Josiah as much as she had fallen for Pete. They were a special family.

He sat on the stoop next to her. “I meant what I said about you impressing Mrs. Corkindale. Her exact words were ‘She seems to have a lot of confidence.’”

“Oh, not me,” Priscilla said. “These days I feel less like Miss Manners and more like Miss Faking It.”

She pulled slightly away from Pete’s shoulder, which had naturally melded against hers as he sat down.

“About last night,” he said softly, “I just want to say…I hope you have no regrets.”

She did. She didn’t. “Pete, I’m so scared about the adoption.”

“Why? The babies will love it here. I can’t wait to be a father.” He turned her chin so that she faced him. “You know, you don’t have to be my fiancée once they’re here.”

Though he meant to comfort her, arrows of reality shot into her heart. “I know,” she murmured.

He removed his hand from her face. “It meant a lot that you came with me to the ranch today. Thank you.”

She nodded. She didn’t know what to say. She felt as if she was losing Pete by not knowing the right words, but she couldn’t speak. She wanted so much to be the right woman for him, but she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be a mother to the children—and therefore, she couldn’t be the right woman for him.

P
ETE KNEW EXACTLY
what was bothering Priscilla. He could see she was haunted by the memory of her child, could see it in her eyes, when he talked about the babies. He understood she still mourned giving up her child. It was the same look his father wore every time he talked about his wife. Josiah would never get over losing her. He understood why she left, but he would never get over it. Pete missed his
mother, too, but in all his years, Pete had never had the urge to find out where she was. She’d left them—he felt abandoned, even though he knew he was being unfair, because he didn’t know the whole story.

These same demons must haunt Priscilla about her baby. Yet she’d really had no choice. She’d done as her parents had asked. She’d given away something which had torn out a piece of her heart that could never be repaired.

So he resolved to do the one thing, the only thing, that would possibly bring her peace and exorcise the past. And as a former secret agent, he knew exactly how to make that happen.

He would find out what happened to the child she’d lost, and maybe, just maybe, win her heart.

A week later Pete found his target. He sat outside a house an hour from Fort Wylie, waiting patiently, biding his time. Sooner or later his mission would be rewarded. His ultimate goal was that Priscilla have peace in her heart. He had the strangest feeling that she was afraid he could not love her because of her past—but he knew he had fallen in love with her from the first.

He eyed the dwelling where her son lived. The two-story, white, Cape Cod-style home was large, spacious and well kept. The street was wide, the neighborhood lined with similar homes. It looked like a comfortable place to raise a child. Quite different from the way Pete had grown up, with an absentee mother and a father who was often away, too, looking for his fortune. It was a wonder to Pete that his father had finally settled at the Morgan ranch—but he was beginning to be glad that Pop had returned home. Perhaps not as glad as Pop was that
his sons were slowly returning, one by one, to mend the past, but still, he was glad to be relearning how to love his father.

Suddenly the front door of the house flew open. A boy ran down the steps, jumping them two at a time. He was followed by two younger girls, who looked like they were trying very hard to keep up with their older brother, and an energetic black-and-white collie. Pete scooched down in his seat just a little, his eyes hungrily recording everything about the boy.

He was tall for his age, and obviously athletic. Pete held up a small camera, squeezed off a shot, checked it to make sure it was a good one. The boy was blond, like Priscilla, and his hair fell in straight locks of yellow-gold, flopping as he ran. His clothes were well made, neat, unlike anything the Morgan boys had worn growing up. Their mother had often sewn them clothes, or they’d worn each other’s hand-me-downs. By the time a pair of jeans had gotten from Jack to Gabe, they were pretty worn. The boy threw a ball for the collie, who ran frantically to get it, and the girls ran after the dog, teasing it.

A woman came out onto the porch, shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun. The February weather still held a chill, but the children didn’t notice, despite the mother’s urgings that they all should be wearing coats. After a moment she smiled, told them they could play another fifteen minutes only and went back inside.

The boy looked so much like Priscilla that it hurt Pete in a deep, unknown place. In another time, had Priscilla been able to make different choices, he might have been this child’s stepfather. That would never happen now, of course. The child was happy here; he had a family who clearly loved him. Being the big-hero brother to two younger sisters was a great thing. Dane and Gabe had looked up to Pete on occasion, and he’d enjoyed the hero worship. One of the little girls fell, and her brother was there instantly to check her out. Pete heard him say, “It’s just a scrape, silly,” but his gesture belied his words as he rumpled his sister’s hair and helped her to her feet. Then he grabbed the ball from the collie, throwing it one last time before leading his merry band into the house.

Pete had tears in his eyes when the front door closed behind them, leaving him alone in the cold on the family-friendly street.

He switched on his truck and drove away. Mission accomplished.

“I
COULD SELL YOU
the business,” Priscilla said to Cricket, “but you’re busy enough with your deacon duties. However, I thank you for asking.” She put some dishes into a box, checked its weight to make certain it could be easily moved. She didn’t want to fill any of the boxes too full with her precious china. “No financial favors among friends. If I’d been able to keep the shop, I wanted you to be my partner, but
more of a silent partner. You do so much for the people of Fort Wylie it would be wrong to weigh you down with my tea shop, dear friend.”

“Oh, Priscilla,” Cricket said, “I am so sorry. You must be so upset.”

“I was at first.” She had been, but now a curious peace filled her. “There is more to life than serving tea and cookies and giving etiquette lessons.”

Cricket pulled down some teacups from a shelf, laying them on a table so Priscilla could pack them. “Like helping raise four young children?”

Priscilla had thought long and hard about the babies. She thought about Josiah; she’d pondered her future—if there was one—with Pete. “I’m sort of going on faith, I suppose. But I feel my place is somewhere else for now.”

“You’re not leaving because of your parents’ issues, are you?”

“No.” Priscilla shook her head. “I visited them yesterday. My parents seem so relieved that everything is over. They feel as if the floor is swept clean, all their secrets are out, and they can move on with their lives. I think it was cathartic for the news to be out in the open.” Priscilla smiled at Cricket. “To their great surprise, they found they had a lot of support. The friends who have loved them over the years remain their friends, which was their greatest worry. They had their house paid off, and with that secure, Dad says everything else will turn around in time.”

Priscilla felt pretty lucky to have them as an example. From her parents, she learned that there was no such thing as true failure. They were prepared to learn from their mistake. “Though they’re upset for me, that I’ll have to give up my shop, I’ve realized that taking the extra loan to enlarge my business would have only stretched me too thin. I’d like to make another run at this one day, but in a different venue.”

She’d miss her tea shop. But she’d still have her house, and that comforted her.

But what use was a house if it wasn’t shared with people she loved?
Josiah would salute that sentiment.

Pete had changed her view of what she thought was most important in life. She wanted to help him—at least as much as she could.

P
ETE HAD CONVERTED
one of the bigger upstairs bedrooms into a large nursery. For now, the four babies would sleep where he could easily hear them. His room was across the hall. Later on, he would think about bedrooms for each of them, but for now, painting the room a soft yellow and putting up baseball and flower murals on the walls satisfied his need to keep busy as he waited for his miracle. He’d bought white cribs. He’d stacked tiny diapers on a bureau nearby. Formula, towels, pacifiers—everything the woman at the baby store said he’d need with tiny babies—he’d purchased in bulk.

And then on a dreary February day, Pete’s life
changed forever as four young bundles of joy were delivered to the ranch. It was the most insanely wonderful thing that had ever happened to him—and it was also pandemonium.

Mrs. Corkindale oversaw the whole process, watching intently as the swaddled babies were brought inside much to Josiah’s delight and Priscilla’s wistful gaze. The whole family was there, right down to the children, who were eager to greet the new members of the family.

“I hope you know what you got yourself into, Josiah,” Mrs. Corkindale said.

He grinned, his face lighting up. “Angels. That’s what’s come to my house.”

She patted his shoulder. “I think you could use a personal angel, myself.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Well, you know where I am if you ever need more resources. We’re stretched pretty tight in the county right now, but we have no intention of abandoning these children. And you know, fost-adopting doesn’t have to be a lifetime commitment.”

“Bite your tongue!” Josiah exclaimed, and she laughed, going off to examine the converted nursery, leaving Josiah, along with Gabe and Dane, to watch as Pete lovingly placed each baby in the large playpen in the middle of the den. All four babies lay on their backs, snug in different-colored blankets. They were quiet now, but as they grew, the ranch
would be a hubbub of activity. Pop had wanted the playpen close to his recliner so he could see the babies at all times. “Feels like Christmas,” he said. “If Jack was here, it’d be perfect.”

Pete glanced up at his father’s words. He flashed a quick look at Gabe and Dane, who merely shrugged. There was nothing they could do about Jack. Pete had tried to bring his brother home. It would never happen.

But Pete had brought the babies home. He watched Priscilla, who, though stiff at first, seemed to be slowly warming up, examining each infant with a smile on her face.

As for Pete himself, his heart was fuller than he ever dreamed it could be. For every night in his life he’d spent in some cold, godforsaken hole in the world, or some hot, deserted lair, this gift from God made up for everything in life he’d missed out on.

And the fact that Priscilla was there to share the moment with him and his new family made it even more of a blessing. The situation was very nearly perfect.

It
would
be perfect—once he convinced Priscilla to marry him.