to close off that side of his life than think about missing her and Sara. For their safety, he’d been willing to pay the price. He hadn’t realized at the time it would include his soul.
Danielle forced her hands to move, to do the usual morning chores, to act normal when everything about her seemed so totally alien.
She’d spent a restless night—that was nothing new—but a new element had been added. She had listened to the sounds of Kyle prowling the house and wondered what he was thinking…feeling…if he was remembering…
Had he missed her at all during those two years? If he asked, she could tell about missing him and about the loneliness of being abandoned and wondering why. Why? she wondered again now. Because of the danger? He’d told her of that possibility before they were married. She’d accepted it and determined to live with it. He’d worked on other dangerous cases. There were other ways to protect agents’ families without leaving them. She would have done anything to keep their family together. All he’d had to do was ask.
Shutting off the useless thoughts, she buried herself in the trivia of day-to-day living. “Shoes,” she told Sara after the child was dressed in plaid flannel pants and a red turtleneck. “Hurry.”
She put on her insulated boots and heavy coat after helping Sarah with her hat and mittens. They were ready to go. Kyle was at the door, dressed in the parka and black hat he’d worn last night.
“I’ll take you in the truck,” he said.
His tone indicated he was in no mood to argue. Giving him a hard look to let him know she would go because she thought it best, not because she was obeying his orders, she followed him to his pickup. She didn’t want him doing things for them. She didn’t want to learn to need him and then be deserted all over again.
Before she could do more than open the pickup door, he was there, scooping Sara up and depositing her on the seat, then his strong hands were at her waist and she found herself lifted as effortlessly as a doll and put firmly on the passenger seat.
“I could have gotten in by myself,” she rebuked after he’d gotten in, put the truck in gear and backed carefully out of the drive. He gave her a glance and said nothing.
Her neighbor’s son had plowed the drive before she’d gotten up that morning and the county road department had already done the street, so they arrived without mishap at the school. Danielle wasn’t surprised when Kyle went in with her and checked the room out.
“Introduce me to the teacher,” he requested.
Resentment flared in her, but she did as he ordered. Lynn was one of her best friends as well as Sara’s teacher. “Lynn, this is Sara’s father, Kyle Mitchell. Lynn Taylor, I mean, Garrison.”
Laughing, Lynn stepped forward. “I was recently married,” she explained, holding out her hand.
As Danielle watched the lovely blonde smile and talk to Kyle, a funny feeling came over her. Not that she was jealous. Kyle meant nothing to her. But she couldn’t help remembering that once he’d brought her such joy.
However, she obviously meant nothing to him. A two-year absence without a letter or phone call proved that. She had accepted it, grieved over it and gotten on with life.
But she still felt funny watching him talk to her friend, even one recently wed and obviously in love with her very new husband. For a birthday present, she had given Lynn a makeover at the Whitehorn Beauty Salon. The results had been startling as Lynn’s natural beauty had surfaced.
Danielle, stifling the odd feelings, helped Sara with her coat and spoke to Jenny and her mother, Jessica. The girls ran to their table and took their seats, Jenny talking a mile a minute while Sara nodded or shook her head. Danielle’s heart ached. She hoped their friendship lasted their whole lives—
“Sterling says there are no clues,” Jessica told her and sighed resignedly. “We’re afraid to let Jenny out of our sight for a minute.”
“I know what you mean,” Danielle commiserated.
“The Kincaid fortune,” Jessica murmured, speaking of the legacy that had been left to her daughter when Wayne Kincaid and Clint Calloway, Jenny’s half brothers, had given up their share of the Kincaid legacy. Both men had decided to put the estate in trust for Jenny. Neither man wanted anything their father, Jeremiah, had left them. Now Jessica understood why. “I agree with Wayne. The Kincaid name is nothing but a curse.” After all, Jenny’s life was in danger simply because those kidnappers knew what she had to inherit.
Wayne Kincaid had unexpectedly returned to Whitehorn after years of being away. Everyone had thought he had been killed in Vietnam, so the story went, but he returned under an assumed name to check out the town and the Kincaid ranch.
He had helped nab some men who were trying to destroy the ranch so they could buy it for a song, then, his identity exposed, he’d stayed on. He had married Carey Hall, the pediatrician who took care of Sara and Jenny. The couple had just been blessed with their first child together at Christmas, and seven-year-old Sophie, Carey’s daughter from her first marriage, was delighted to have a baby brother.
“I didn’t know your husband had returned,” Jessica continued, looking over Danielle’s shoulder.
“Yes, for a while. A couple of months,” she added so that no one, including herself, would think it was a permanent arrangement.
Jessica cast her a quizzical glance but didn’t ask any questions. Danielle was grateful.
She glanced across the room. The teacher was explaining the security in place for the girls to Kyle. Rafe Rawlings, who had recently been promoted to the town sheriff, had taken on the case himself and would be within a few feet of them at all times while they were at school. Lynn pointed out the window to a man dressed as a custodian.
“Sterling said Shane McBride was coming out to do a security check on your house this morning,” Jessica continued after a thoughtful moment.
“Oh, good,” Danielle said distractedly. Shane was the deputy sheriff and was working with Rafe on the case.
She felt she knew and had dealt with every law enforcement officer in the county during the past month. All except the one she’d needed so desperately—her husband.
Kyle strode toward her. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.” She introduced him to Jessica. “Sterling McCallum is a special investigator with the sheriff’s office—”
“I know who he is.” Taking her arm, Kyle nodded to Jessica and ushered them out of the building.
On the way home, Danielle went over several opening statements in her mind and discarded them all. “Don’t manhandle me in front of my friends,” she finally said.
He cocked one dark eyebrow. “Only when we’re alone? Okay, I can handle that.”
She clenched her hand inside her mitten. “Don’t touch me at all. And don’t give me orders.”
He turned in the drive and parked. Leaning against the door, he observed her for a long moment. “You ordered me out of the library the first time we met. It was time to close, but I wasn’t finished researching old issues of the newspaper for information.”
She
