More Than Friends (The Warriors) (20 page)

"So you intend to grant them, even given what you know about me now?"

"You need him as much as he needs you," she said a second time. "Everything I’ve learned about you this week assures me that you’re an honorable man who has a conscience. On the other side of the coin, I’m remembering pieces of our past, especially those final months in D.C. You’re in a risk–filled occupation, so we’d need to work around it so that Matthew isn’t placed in jeopardy again."

"Say that to me once your memory is fully restored. Then I might believe you."

"I hate the cynicism I hear in your voice."

"Just being practical, Leah. I don’t have any illusions left. I know it’s unlikely that there’s any room for me in your life. I was a fool to think that there might be. But where my son’s concerned, I do intend to exercise my rights. Once I’m sure I won’t endanger him, I’ll fight you tooth and nail if you try to deny me a place in Matthew’s life. Fair warning."

Leah bowed her head and rubbed her temples. She didn’t feel prepared to do battle with Brett, nor did she have any desire to be placed in an adversarial position over the welfare of their son. Too much was at stake, and Matthew didn’t deserve to be caught in a tug–of–war between his parents. "Do you think we can have this conversation when I’m capable of holding up my end of it? I’m operating at a slight disadvantage right now."

He gripped the steering wheel, but he didn’t force the issue. He simply gave her a hard look as he slowed the car and turned into a long driveway that led to a spacious home set well back from the road.

Leah noticed the name on the mailbox. HOLBROOK. Her heartbeat accelerated. Leaning forward, she studied the sprawling, Tudor–style dwelling and beautifully manicured lawn. Towering Douglas firs lined the drive and bordered either side of the property. Memories that reminded her of splotches of paint on a blank canvas came to life in her mind.

"You grew up here," Brett said as he scanned the grounds for any hint of a threat.

Leah assumed he saw nothing amiss when he proceeded slowly up the driveway. She glanced his way, a hesitant smile on her face. "I recognize the house. There’s a row of swings behind the garage, a pool out back that was installed after Dad had his heart attack, and I planted the flowers that line both sides of the courtyard the first time I came home to visit after I had Matthew." She frowned. "Is my father in good health?"

He nodded. "Micah and I wanted to make sure he stayed that way, so we had a physician assigned to the security team just in case Martin had any unexpected problems that Helene couldn’t handle. It turns out that the doctor is an avid fisherman and welcomed a trip to the Pacific Northwest."

"Did he? Have any problems, I mean?" As she spoke, Leah recalled her father’s compassion and support when she’d made her decision to have Matthew despite her unmarried state.

"None at all." Brett positioned the car so that he had an encompassing view of the property. Turning off the ignition, he made no move to exit the vehicle. Instead, he checked his watch and then settled back in his seat. He continued to scan the area.

Watching him, Leah realized that his behavior was more a habit than conscious action on his part. "Are we early?"

"Micah said to expect them just about now."

"What else did Micah say?" she asked in an effort to focus on anything but the nervousness she felt at the prospect of seeing her son.

"The two men who followed us when we left San Francisco were actually police officers on a bona fide vacation." He chuckled ruefully, but his humor quickly faded as he studied a line of fir trees located about fifty yards from their parked car. He frowned and his eyes narrowed when the branches repeatedly stirred.

Leah held her breath as Brett eased his hand to the weapon wedged beneath his thigh. He muttered a self–deprecating curse a few seconds later when he noticed two squirrels chasing each other from tree limb to tree limb. A few minutes later, they both noticed a late–model station wagon and a dark brown van. The two vehicles moved up the driveway at a sedate pace. The driver of the van flipped his lights on and off, and then the driver of the station wagon did the same.

Brett cautioned, "Get down and stay put for a minute." He exited their rental car, gun in hand as he crouched down and tracked the two vehicles.

Leah prayed that his caution was unnecessary. Still prone on the front seat, she jumped when Brett tugged open the car door a few minutes later. Peering at him, she saw him raise his hand and signal the two vehicles, but she waited for him to motion her up before she lifted her head.

Leah scrambled out of the car, hesitating when Brett placed a hand on her arm. "Your parents are up to speed on what’s happened, but the boy isn’t. We didn’t want him frightened."

She searched his face through the tears suddenly blurring her vision. "How do I thank you?" she asked as she gripped his hands.

He looked as though she’d just slapped him. His façade of the competent professional shattered. Leah finally saw the strain in his features and the bleakness of his dark eyes. Brett freed himself from her grasp and moved back a step. Fumbling for the aviator–style sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket of his pullover, he put them on.

"Brett…"

"You don’t have to thank me, damn it," he said in a voice as unyielding as granite. "Just try to forgive me for what I did to us."

"Mom! Hey, Mom! I caught this great fish," Matthew shouted as he barreled out of the station wagon and shot across the lawn.

Torn between Brett’s unexpected remark and the sound of her son’s voice, Leah said, "Do not disappear before we have a chance to talk."

"I can’t stay, Leah. I have to get back to the East Coast. My flight leaves in four hours."

"Hey, Mom! Did you hear me?"

"I’ll take you to the airport," she said. "Promise me you won’t leave on your own."

Brett reluctantly nodded. He yanked off his sunglasses, his gaze sliding from Leah’s face to the child bearing down on them. She saw the hunger and pain in Brett’s eyes as he studied his son before he grimaced and walked away.

Leah turned and dropped to her knees. Her dark–eyed, dark–haired dynamo of a son raced toward her and then launched himself into her welcoming arms. In that instant she remembered how much and how desperately she loved this innocent child, and she also remembered that he’d helped to ease the pain she often felt at living her life without Brett Upton.

"Grandpa cleaned it, and Grammy cooked it for me. Mom! You shoulda been there. It was awesome."

She laughed, hugging him so tightly that he asked, "What’s wrong, Mom?"

Her memories of him crashed in around her, making her dizzy and grateful for his very existence.

"Nothing, sweetheart. I’m just glad to see you."

"Who’s that man?" he asked, his curious gaze locked on Brett, who stood talking to the men who’d followed Matthew across the lawn.

Leah experienced a moment of panic before her instincts took over. "He’s a very dear friend. He works with your Uncle Micah."

"Then he must be a spy, too," the little boy said matter–of–factly.

Nonplused, Leah studied his face. "What do you know about spies?"

"They protect people, but they do it without anyone knowing it."

She smiled to cover her shock. "Who’s been telling you about spies?"

"Grandpa Martin, but he said it’s a family secret, so I can only talk about it with him and you."

She drew him close, inhaling his boy smell and hugging him until he squirmed in her arms. "I love you, little man."

He whispered, "I missed you, Mom," before he eased free and wandered in the direction of the man who’d fathered him.

Leah got to her feet and watched her son. She held her breath as Matthew waited with unusual patience for Brett to notice him. She smiled with relief when Brett lowered himself to one knee in order to be at eye level with his son. Father and son both looked solemn as they shook hands.

Leah saw surprise and sudden comprehension on the faces of the men who made up the security team dispatched on Brett’s orders as they observed the encounter between their commanding officer and the small boy they’d guarded. The men drifted off in different directions, tactfully allowing father and son the privacy they obviously needed, although they continued to remain alert to any possible threat that might disturb the Holbrook estate. Her gaze still fixed on Brett and Matthew, Leah felt a burst of optimism spark to life inside her heart.

"They need each other."

She blinked and turned to the man who’d spoken. As she walked into her father’s embrace, Leah realized that he’d just verbalized her exact thoughts. "I know, Daddy. I know."

The image of the two of them together—Matthew a miniature version of his father—stayed with her as the day unfolded. The activity level in her parent’s home prevented Leah from having a private moment with Brett, who had become the sole focus of Matthew’s attention.

Later that afternoon, Leah drove Brett to the airport. As he paid for his reserved airline ticket and checked his luggage, Leah knew she had to trust her instincts for all of their sakes. By the time they reached the departure gate, Brett’s flight was in the process of being called.

"I wish you could stay longer."

Clearly surprised by her remark, he cast an exhausted look at her, searching her face as though to confirm her sincerity. "The paperwork that follows an international operation like this takes weeks, sometimes months, to clean up."

"I realize you’re still on active duty, and I know you have responsibilities." She shoved a tendril of golden hair from her face. "I’m remembering even more now. Seeing Matthew and my parents helped the process."

Brett nodded, shifting restlessly as the line of passengers grew shorter. "You’ll be fine."

"Did you really not love me enough to marry me?"

He looked stunned. "I was trying to protect you."

"That’s not what I asked."

He took her arm and led her to an alcove a few feet away. "I loved you, Leah, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life."

She inched closer and slipped her arms around his waist. The scent of white ginger drifted up from her skin to tease his senses. Brett gripped her upper arms. Leah shivered beneath his hands, her hunger for him never dormant for long.

"Our son’s an incredible little guy, thanks to you."

She peered up at him to see in his dark eyes what could only be described as regret for all he’d missed during their years apart. "Do you love me at all now?"

"How can you ask such a question?" he demanded, his fatigue evident in his flaring temper.

"I have to ask. I can’t guess about something this important."

He wrapped his arms around her, took her mouth, and plundered it until they were both breathless. "I love you more than life itself, and I will love you until I draw my last breath."

Lips tingling and heart racing, she choked back the tears clogging her throat. "I told you earlier that I think you’re an honorable man, but I’m starting to believe that you are an incredibly misguided one too." She paused briefly before she whispered, "I love you, Brett Matthew Upton. And your son will love you when he’s given the chance to know you."

Too shocked to speak, Brett stared at her. They both heard a voice announce over a loudspeaker the final boarding call for his flight. Leah clutched the front of his shirt.

"As much as I want to stay, I can’t, Leah. I’ll call you, and we’ll talk. You said it yourself this morning. You aren’t ready to make important decisions about the future right now. I don’t want you to regret…"

"Listen to me, and really hear what I’m about to say to you," she cut in. "I’m not going to change my mind. I want you to come home to us when you’re ready. Matthew needs you. He’s waited too long to know his father, and I’ve waited even longer to feel whole again. Please don’t make us wait much longer. We want you, and we need you. I think you need us, too."

"Sir," interrupted the gate agent, "if you’re going to board this flight, you’ll have to do so now."

He dropped a hard kiss on her lips, and then he promised, "I’ll call you as soon as I can."

Brett flashed his federal identification as he spoke a few hushed words to the gate agent, who glanced at the security personnel stationed nearby and nodded. He took Leah’s hand. "Walk with me?"

She nodded, and they headed into the jet–way that connected the boarding gate to the aircraft. She paused at the door of the plane as Brett’s gaze swept hungrily across her face one last time.

"Trust
me
this time, Brett. And try to find a way to trust
us
."

"I want to believe you," he admitted.

"You can," Leah insisted. "You really can."

The stark expression of longing etched into his face made Leah sag against the jet–way wall as Brett stepped into the aircraft and she lost sight of him. After the door slammed closed, the gate agent, a middle–aged woman with a kind face, touched her arm. "You’ll have to return to the main terminal now."

"I know," Leah said, swiping at the tears spilling from her eyes.

She made the trek back up the hallway, where members of the security team escorted her out of the terminal and drove her back to her family home. Leah waited then. She waited for four of the longest weeks of her life, but Brett never called.

It was Micah, not Brett, who finally summoned her to Washington, D.C., but only after she’d returned to Monterey, accompanied by security–team members, reinstalled Matthew in his kindergarten class, and listlessly resumed her work in the flower shop.

Helene and Martin Holbrook arrived unannounced to care for their grandson on the same night that Micah telephoned. Leah felt like the object of a covert conspiracy by the time she boarded her charter flight for the trip to the East Coast.

Leah flashed a startled glance at her big brother when the driver of the car that had collected her at the airport turned into the grounds of Arlington National Cemetery. The uniformed young man guided the car down a series of narrow lanes deep within the confines of the resting–place of several generations of fallen warriors.