it.”
“I see,” she replied with sudden clarity. “You don’t want Brother Neely to know you were once an actual fed, is that it?”
“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be, Brin,” he warned. This time there was nothing at all gentle about his tone.
He stepped nearer…too close. Sabrina held her ground, despite the butterflies taking flight in her stomach.
“No one else knows but you,” he reminded in a low, lethal tone that sent shivers skittering up her spine. “But I’m not worried ’cause I know you wouldn’t do anything to make trouble for me.”
He had her there. No matter what he’d done in the past. No matter how badly he had hurt her. Sabrina would never do anything to hurt him—except keep her own secret. But that was to protect Ryan, she rationalized, when she knew damn well it was to protect herself. She couldn’t lose her son. No way.
She remembered to exhale. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it,” she said tightly.
Those silvery depths softened then, and he almost smiled. The quirking of his lips was so subtle that had she not been looking at him so intently she would surely have missed the movement. Her pulse fluttered at the absolute beauty of those lips.
“I owe you,” he murmured, even closer now.
Panic trickled through her, slowing her body’s instant fight-or-flight reaction to his proximity. Ryan could wake up any moment and start screaming for his mommy—or worse, he could climb out of the crib and toddle onto the porch. That image opened the floodgates of her anxiety.
“I’d like you to leave now, Court.” She started to take a step back, but he moved again, stalling her. His hand came up to her face, and those long, tanned fingers smoothed that forever-errant wisp of hair from her cheek. Warmth spread through her so fast that it made her light-headed. How could a mere touch affect her so?
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Brin.” He searched her eyes, looking for forgiveness or maybe just trying to read what he saw there. “I hope you know that.”
“We’re not talking about the past, remember?” she protested, however shakily.
He swallowed hard. She watched the slow movement of muscle beneath smooth, tanned skin. “Right.” He studied her face a moment longer, as if committing to memory the changes time and worry had wrought.
“Goodbye, Court.” This time Sabrina stepped away from him. She needed distance. And a new heart. One that wouldn’t let Court Brody inside.
“I’ll be back,” he warned, “and then we’ll set things straight.”
Sabrina watched him stalk back to his truck. He dropped behind the wheel, and then drove away. She didn’t move until he’d disappeared in the direction of town—or more accurately, the militia compound.
“Don’t come back, Court,” she murmured, her heart sinking. “I can’t survive losing you again.”
CHAPTER TWO
STILL TIRED FROM yesterday’s cleaning frenzy, Sabrina smiled for her son and ruffled his silky brown hair. He gurgled and cooed, his gray eyes sparkling as he bounced up and down in anticipation of his mother scooping him up.
“Sorry, sweetie, Mommy has something she has to do this morning.” She hated to leave him, but she sure couldn’t take him with her to the compound.
Ryan protested, jerking against the brightly colored sides of his playpen.
“I don’t like the idea of you going out to that place, Sabrina,” Mrs. Cartwright said softly, her aged voice as heavy with worry as her faded blue eyes. “I’ve heard some pretty disturbing rumors about what they’re doing out there.”
Sabrina folded her arms over her middle and turned away from the concerned gaze that studied her too closely. She’d known Mrs. Cartwright forever, and she trusted her completely. “I don’t know what else to do. They’ve offered to let me help with home schooling some of the younger children.” She shrugged. “It’s just for a couple of hours a day.”
The older woman moved to her side and ruffled Ryan’s hair as Sabrina had only moments ago. He babbled his approval at the attention. “But you already work too hard,” Mrs. Cartwright argued. “You don’t need another job.” She shook her head and gazed up at Sabrina. “Especially not at that place and one that doesn’t pay. You should be with your son.”
A weary sigh slipped past Sabrina’s lips. How could she explain that she didn’t have a choice in the matter? “It’s the only way I have of keeping an eye on Charlie. He won’t listen to anything I say anymore.”
“He’s a good boy, Sabrina,” Mrs. Cartwright protested. “He’s just missing a father figure in his life. He’ll come around.”
Sabrina scrubbed a hand over her face and blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. “I know. But, God, couldn’t he have looked anywhere but to Neely?” She prayed that her elderly friend was right and that Charlie would come around…soon.
“Lots of folks considerably older than Charlie are following the man.” Mrs. Cartwright sighed, the effort heaving from her thin chest. “Joshua Neely seems to have what they’re looking for, as frightening as that sounds.”
Instantly, Court sprang to Sabrina’s mind. How could he fall for a guy like Neely? It just didn’t make sense to her, no matter what his excuse. Sabrina had a sneaking suspicion that Court wasn’t being completely honest with her. How could he just up and walk away from the FBI? He had been in love with the whole damned super-agent mystique. He sure hadn’t been in love with her. She suppressed the old hurt that accompanied that thought.
Her gaze drifted down to Ryan. Having given up on his mommy rescuing him from his red-and-blue prison, he now sat playing with his spongy stacking blocks. Court may have broken her heart, but he had given her the one thing that got her through each day—her son. His birth had coincided with the realization that hard financial times were ahead, not to mention Charlie’s plunge into adolescence and his subsequent rebellious behavior.
Ryan made life bearable. She would protect him from the hurtful games adults played. No one—not even Court—would hurt her son. Sabrina would see to that.
“I have to get going.” Sabrina bent down and dropped a kiss on her baby’s sweet head. She forced a smile for her elderly friend. “I’ll be back around lunchtime.”
Mrs. Cartwright followed Sabrina to the door. “Be careful, Sabrina.” She smoothed a hand over the tight bun she’d twisted her gray tresses into. “I worry about you, you know.”
Taller than most women, Sabrina leaned down and gave Mrs. Cartwright a quick hug. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, I’m tougher than I look. Just take good care of my little boy.” Besides, Sabrina didn’t add, with her long legs she could probably outrun most of the men she knew—Joshua Neely and his cohorts included.
Mrs. Cartwright waved goodbye from the door as Sabrina backed away from the house. She drove to the end of the dirt road that served as a driveway to the Cartwright place and then pointed her old truck in the direction of the militia compound. Sabrina glanced at her reflection in the rearview
