Christmas Conspiracy (9 page)

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. You have a
place
you call home. I don’t care about that. All I want is to give my kids a chance at a better life. I don’t care where. But it won’t be with someone who wants me just because my DNA happens to be half his.”

A sharp knock sounded at their door.

“Come.”

Rafe cracked open the heavy oak, a frown on his face. “We need you downstairs. Hunter just contacted Noah regarding the terrorists. He’s in Bellevaux tracking a rumor. Daniel might still be alive.”

* * *

T
HE CEMENT TRUCK SAT
in the corner of the construction site. Deke Powell slammed his hand on the steering wheel. He’d tracked the transmitter to its final destination. Damn, Logan Carmichael. This was the second time they’d lost him.

Victor wouldn’t be happy. His partner Hans had nearly turned that big knife he carried on
him
.

Deke’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the number and felt the blood drain from his face. Victor Karofsky ran his organization without tolerance or mercy.

“Powell.” Perspiration beaded on his forehead.

“Are they dead?” The Russian accent never failed to give Deke chills, or perhaps it was the cold efficiency behind the words.

He swallowed. “Not exactly, sir.”

Silence reigned over the phone.

His hand shook.

“Your orders were to kill the princess and her children, not to mention Logan Carmichael,” Victor spat.

The cold, quiet voice sent a chill of foreboding skittering up Deke’s spine. “I will find them.” He prayed the vow was true.

“I don’t give second chances.”

“I know where they are,” he lied. “Please. I’ll take care of them.”

The phone went quiet and a woman’s sobs sounded in the background. Deke gripped the phone, terror icing his veins. No, it couldn’t be his wife....

“Deke?”

Oh, God.
“Maria?”

“Please, Deke. Help me.”

Maria screamed, the sound horrifying.

“I said I’ll kill them,” he yelled. “Leave her alone!”

“Yes, you
will
kill them,” his boss spat into the phone. “I won’t tolerate another failure from you.”

A loud thud sounded through the phone. His wife howled in agony.

Maria!

“I think you are beginning to understand me.”

“What did you do?”

“Let’s just say that I’ll keep her wedding ring finger on ice for you. Fail me again, Powell, and that’s all you’ll ever have of her.”

* * *

K
AT AWOKE TO RAYS OF WINTRY
dawn shining on her face through the slats in the window. Two sets of giggles erupted and she flipped to her side to face the children. Their blue and hazel eyes were alight with laughter as they peered over the edge of the mattress.

“Big bed,” Lanie said, her hazel eyes blinking. “Up, Mommy.”

Kat picked up Lanie and Hayden and they crawled all over Logan’s huge king. He hadn’t come back last night. She’d finally dozed off waiting for him, but the other side of the bed remained made. Someone had covered her with a blanket, though.

Hayden threw himself on top of her and giggled. She hid her concerns, and spent a precious moment wrestling and laughing with her kids.

They huddled against her until finally Hayden sat up. “Hungry.”

“Me, too,” Lanie said. She crawled to the edge of the bed and looked down. Her nose wrinkled up and she frowned. “Too high.”

Logan swooped into the room and scooped Lanie into his arms. “Hey, I heard someone wants to eat? I make a mean bowl of cereal. Want some, short stuff?”

“Daddy,” she chortled and grabbed his nose.

Hayden bounced on the bed and reached his hands to the ceiling. “Daddy.”

Kat pushed her hair out of her face. She had to look like a mess. Her clothes had wrinkled from the night, and she could sleep for another week. Logan didn’t look much better with his fatigue-laden expression.

“You haven’t been to bed, have you?” she said, hugging her arms around her legs, drinking in the sight of him.

“No, but believe me, I thought about it a lot.”

She blushed, looking from his heated gaze. Strange. She felt almost comfortable. As if this happened all the time and heaven knew that wasn’t the case. Letting herself care too much wasn’t smart.

Logan settled one kid in either arm. “Want some breakfast?”

“Love some,” she answered honestly.

“Okay, meet you in the kitchen. I’ll take the kids with me so you can catch a break.”

“If you give me a minute, I’ll head down with you.”

“Hurry up, Mommy!”

True to her word, a minute later she followed him down the stairs. He cradled their children in secure arms. She’d always been strong, but she struggled carrying just one of the kids these days. They were growing up so fast.

A pang of discomfort hit her. He’d missed all that.

Could she make it up to him? And if she did, would she leave herself vulnerable to the inevitable heartbreak that would follow when things didn’t work out?

She slid her hand over the banister, the fine wood smooth, shiny and polished beneath her palm. At the bottom of the stairs, she looked around the empty family room. A huge television was mounted on one wall, and a large stone fireplace filled another. The dark brown leather sectional must have cost the earth. She winced at the thought of what her two-and-a-half-year-olds could do to that piece of furniture. Especially Hayden. If left alone, her miniature tornado could demolish anything in the time it took to turn around.

This house wasn’t a baby house. It was all man. Not stuffy. Sturdy and elegant in a masculine way. The expensive furnishings and the detailed architecture intimidated her.

She really didn’t fit in here.

Lanie giggled as Logan whispered something in her ear. The kids had never seen anything like this place before. Did
they
belong here, even if she didn’t? Logan
was
their father.

Unable to dismiss the unease, she followed behind them through the swinging doors into a large kitchen. Double ovens, double stoves, double everything. The scent of fresh coffee filtered through the air. Her mouth watered. “Where is everyone?”

“Downstairs. Working. I’ll give you a tour as soon as I feed the troublesome twosome.” He blew a raspberry on Hayden’s belly and the boy giggled wildly. With the greatest care he placed the kids on booster seats at the large butcher-block table and kissed their heads.

Kat’s throat closed up. For one moment, she could imagine them, a family. She shouldn’t let herself hope for anything, but she couldn’t help it.

He opened the freezer and rifled through its contents.

A salt-and-pepper-haired pixie appeared out of nowhere, sped into the room and slapped his hand. “Get your nose out of there, Logan Carmichael. Just because you own the place doesn’t mean you can take over my kitchen while I’m here.”

He jumped back faster than Kat would’ve thought possible, his expression sheepish.

“Sorry, Gretchen,” he said and kissed her cheek. “Kat, this is the woman who runs the Triple C.”

“It’s about time Logan brought a woman home.”

Logan sighed and rested a hand on Hayden’s head. “And these, Gretchen, are our children, Hayden and Lanie.”

Gretchen gave Logan a scowl before turning to Kat with a wide, welcoming smile. Gretchen knelt at the table between the two. “Well, aren’t you two the spitting image of your daddy and grandma, God rest her soul. And what would you two be wanting for breakfast this lovely morning?”

Logan’s proud gaze flickered with pain at Gretchen’s words. He knelt beside Lanie and caressed her hair lightly. “Lanie does have Mom’s smile, doesn’t she?”

“Aye, the spitting image, my boy.”

Gretchen tapped Hayden’s cheek. “And I bet this sturdy little boy shovels down food like his daddy did.”

“I hungry,” Hayden said, wriggling in his chair.

Gretchen laughed. “What do you like to eat, my darlings? Anything you want?”

Lanie’s and Hayden’s eyes grew big. “C…Cereal?”

Kat winced at their tentative words. So cautious, mostly because Kat had to be so careful with her meager finances. There weren’t a lot of extras in their house. Usually there wasn’t a choice for any meal.

“Not waffles? Or Pancakes? Or eggs?”

“Pancakes?” Lanie repeated softly. “I like pancakes a whole bunch.”

Hayden’s eyes lit up. “Mommy! Pancakes!”

Kat frowned at the realization the meal was such a treat. The memory of her own wish for more when she was a child flooded through her. Had she failed her kids on that level, too? She bit her lip then forced herself to smile.

“Sounds yummy, huh, kids?” she choked, looking away, avoiding Logan’s questioning glance.

“Pancakes it shall be, dear ones,” Gretchen said and placed a huge iron skillet on the burner. “Juice first. Apple or orange?”

“Apple!” they yelled together.

“You got them for a moment, Gretchen?” Logan asked.

The housekeeper nodded, and Logan clasped Kat’s hand and drew her into the luxurious living room. He tilted her chin up. “I can see those wheels turning a mile a minute. What’s the matter?”

She shrugged, feeling awkward. “I haven’t done right by them. They shouldn’t be so excited about pancakes for breakfast.”

“Stop it. They’re great kids, Kat. You’re a great mom. They know they’re loved and that’s most important.”

“I work too much. I don’t see them enough. I can’t give them what they need.” She turned away from him and swept her arm in a flourish at the living room. “Look at this place, Logan. I’ll never have anything that comes close to what you have.”

She bowed her head, and her shoulders sagged.

“What do you see, Kat?”

“That money makes a lot of things possible,” she said sadly. “That my whole house could fit in your living room, and, right or wrong, knowing that makes me uncomfortable. That I haven’t provided for my kids as well as I’d thought.”

Logan shook his head. “Come with me.”

He took her through the mudroom and unlatched an old, weather-beaten wooden door. He ducked his head and led her inside the tiny space. A small rough-hewn bed took up much of the floor space, and an old rocking chair sat in the corner.

“This was the original ranch house. My great-grandfather built it. There’s an even older homestead on the backside of the property. My mother told me her great-grandpa wanted to be closer to the creek. There’s no water there now, of course, only a dry gully. The point is, when my ancestors started this ranch, they didn’t have much.”

Kat scanned the walls and stared at a photo of a woman and boy. A boy with hazel eyes. He looked a lot like Hayden except for the hair color.

“That’s you.”

“With my mom. The ranch has been in her family for five generations.” Logan paused. “She left when I was thirteen. The only thing my dad found was a note promising she’d be back. I found a slightly different version. Her intentions weren’t so clear. Either way, I guess she decided we weren’t worth it, because we never heard from her again.”

Kat didn’t know what to say.

“This house may possess the facade of wealth, but be careful what you assume about me and my life. Your little house was full of love. I left home at eighteen before my dad beat me to death.”

“No.” She pictured a young man in constant fear of his life. How had Logan become the strong man standing before her? How had he overcome his past?

“Believe me, Kat, if there’s no love in a house, the rest is just trappings.”

He brushed past her, but she stopped him with her arm. “Logan, I’m sorry about your mom.”

He stopped and heaved out a sigh. “Yeah, me, too.”

“Why did you ever come back?”

“To save the ranch. I belong to the land,” Logan said simply. “That’s my legacy. My grandmother would have wanted me to save it. She loved it. Everything I did was for her.
She
loved
me,
and that’s not something I take lightly.”

Kat didn’t know what to say. She’d assumed so much about him, and she’d been so wrong. She wanted to walk into his arms. He’d been left alone, in more ways than one. At least her mom had stayed.

Why couldn’t she reach out to him? What was stopping her?

She was a fool.

Logan walked back toward the kitchen. Alone.

Kat just couldn’t follow.

* * *

T
HE CHILL IN THE WINTER AIR
didn’t faze Logan, but he’d never seen anything in all his years that prepared him for the way his kids had wrapped his employees around their proverbial little fingers. He’d been undercover with these men, faced death alongside them, and here they were entertaining his two children like rodeo clowns.

Hayden ran fearlessly around them, laughing, unaware that terrorists in some parts of the world trembled when they simply heard these men’s names.

Lanie sat on the steps, petting a tabby kitten, joy lighting her blue eyes as the tiny furball crawled all over her. He wondered which barn cat had had kittens and where she’d hid them this time. From the looks of it, Lanie intended this ranch kitty to become a house cat. Wouldn’t Gretchen be thrilled?

Logan sent Kat a sidelong glance. He couldn’t figure her out. She seemed drawn to him, and yet so cautious. He didn’t doubt what a good mother she was, though. She watched over her children, always vigilant and protective.

Lanie stumbled in the dirt, chasing the kitten, and Kat leaned forward, ready to grab her, but Tim, his newest ranch hand, swept Logan’s daughter up off the ground and dusted her off.

Lanie gave Tim an air kiss, hugged his leg and looked over at Kat. “Mommy, I falled down!” Her lip quivered.

“Yes, sweetie, but you’re fine. Mr. Tim saved you.”

Lanie gifted the young man with a brilliant smile then went back to playing with the kitten. From the besotted expression on the poor guy’s face, he’d lost his heart to the little charmer.

Logan moved closer to Kat. Her freshly washed hair and skin smelled of lavender and verbena. Her makeup-free skin begged for his caress. Man, she was beautiful.

“They’re amazing.”

“You have to watch them every second, though.”