The Black Sheep and the Princess (16 page)

He nodded, smiled a little. “So, when did you start working with kids?” He paused, then cocked his head. “Do you have any? Of your own, I mean?”

He looked so alarmed by the idea, she had to laugh. “No, don't worry, I haven't stashed any away somewhere.”

“No, it wasn't that. I just—I guess it keeps hitting me how little I really know of you.”

“I figured that would be the first thing you'd Google.”

“What, your personal history?” He shook his head. “I was trying to dig up information on the camp and the town.”

“Nary a search on my background then?”

He shook his head. “Only the education. And not because I didn't want to know. But I figured I had you here for that. If I wanted to know something about you, I could just ask. I focused on looking for the stuff I didn't have any other way of finding out about.”

Made sense. When had he become the practical, levelheaded one? “So…do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Want to know anything? Anything else, anyway?”

His grin was slow, confident, and downright devastating to her already engaged libido. What was she thinking, taunting him like that?

“Oh, I want to know it all. But it's going to have to wait. We need to get out of here.” He stepped back, putting more distance between them.

Distance she found she didn't like all that much. For a few minutes there, she'd calmed down, relaxed a little. She wondered if he'd purposely driven the conversation that way just for that reason. It made her want to lower her guard with him. Made her want to believe that engaging him in a little harmless flirtation was simply an exercise in taking her mind off her troubles. Except he was trouble. And there was nothing harmless about him. “Do you think Finn has more information by now?”

“Probably. Come on.” He led the way out of the barn.

“Do we need to close these back up?” she asked, motioning to the doors.

He shook his head. “Later. After the mailman comes.”

She looked from the barn to the field, to the skyline beyond, and tried to imagine a sleek little helicopter swooping in like some kind of stealth bird. Somehow her life had turned into an action adventure flick when she wasn't looking. And the leading man was Donovan MacLeod.

He led the way through the tall grass and bent stalks back toward the truck. “I'll drive.”

She didn't bother to argue. She'd be lying if she said she couldn't use a little time to get her thoughts in order. Not to mention getting her physical reaction to him under control. “Okay,” she said, opening the door.

He folded his arms on the roof of the little truck and stared at her until she felt it and glanced over at him. “What? Sometimes I don't argue.”

“Good to know. But I was just going to say, don't be so put out that I didn't do extensive research on you.” He winked. “I like to do my Googling up close and personal. Besides, I like a woman of mystery.”

“There's nothing remotely mysterious about me,” she said, trying to quell the images of what being personally Googled by a man like Donovan would feel like. Probably pretty damn good. Whatever it entailed. “And I wasn't put out,” she added, sounding exactly that. But he was already in the cab.

Rather than prolong the discussion, she climbed in, buckled up, and turned her thoughts back to the camp, and her little talk with Stan in town earlier. As it turned out, that was a surefire way to kill her little libidinal buzz. “I have a bad feeling about all this,” she said, not realizing she'd spoken out loud until Donovan responded.

“I'm glad you said it first. Come on,” he said, putting the truck in gear and pressing on the gas. “Let's go see what we can do about changing that.”

There was that word again. “We.” She liked it. Too damn much.

Better not get too used to it
. Donovan wasn't going to stick around this time any more than he had when he turned eighteen. Some things didn't change.

She let her gaze slide across the seat and secretly watched the play of muscles along his thigh and forearm as he shifted gears and floored the gas when he hit the paved road.

The scary part was how badly she already wanted him.

M
ac had long since paced a permanent track into the packed dirt outside the barn. He hadn't wanted Kate to come back with him. He'd wanted to handle the delivery without her interference or questions. In fact, he'd been ready to insist she stay behind at the cabin. But the information he'd gotten from Finn had surprised him. He'd encountered a few roadblocks in his attempts to connect Timberline to Shelby or Stan or anyone else in Ralston. That there were any obstacles at all was a red flag in and of itself.

So he'd decided to keep her with him. Now the damn helicopter was late, and even with the sat phone, he was having a devil of a time getting a consistent signal out here. He couldn't make contact with Finn to find out where the damn chopper was, and it took only a glance at the horizon and the rapid descent of the sun to tell him things were going to get a lot trickier if it didn't show up soon. They'd specifically chosen a late landing, but this was cutting it close.

“Is there a problem?” Kate had noted him tapping on his PDA. Again.

He flipped the case shut and stuffed it in his pocket. “Other than my partner making me crazy, no.”

She leaned back against the barn, looking for all the world as if she stood around in the middle of nowhere waiting for helicopter deliveries all the time. “I know I keep saying this, but I still can't believe the three of you are working together.” She smiled. “I think it's kind of cool, actually. Poetic justice, of sorts.”

“You have no idea,” Mac muttered, looking at the sky once again.

“How do you like Virginia?”

He turned his attention back to her. She'd changed her clothes since this morning. Her hair was back in a ponytail, and her face was still free of makeup. She wore loose jeans and an old college sweatshirt. In deference to the chilly spring evening, she'd donned a canvas jacket that smelled surprisingly like musty stables. Nothing remotely sexy about any of it. And yet he had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her.

“I like it okay. Pretty, rural, peaceful. Can't say the neighbors like us too much.” He smiled a little. “We don't exactly fit in with the horse set.”

Kate laughed shortly. “Even Finn? He's one of theirs.”

“He's been a black sheep for way too long to be considered one of theirs. It was old news that he and his father didn't see eye-to-eye. The locals weren't too happy to hear he divested himself of all of his daddy's companies either.”

“Do they know what kind of business you're running out there?”

Mac shrugged. “We don't exactly advertise. And we don't exactly care what they think.”

“How do you choose who you help?”

“We just keep our ears and eyes open. You don't have to look very far these days to find people who need a hand up.”

She regarded him silently for a few moments, and he expected she would have a lot more questions than he might have answers for, but instead, she surprised him by saying, “I guess it's one of those situations where, if you advertised, people would come climbing out of the woodwork, hitting you up for God knows what.”

“Exactly. Our feeling is anyone we help is one less person in need than before. We can't help them all, but some is better than none.” He glanced back at Kate. “You never did tell me how you got started working with kids, much less disabled kids.”

“My first roommate in college had cerebral palsy. Although, if you met her, it was hard to think of her as disabled. She was the most empowered woman I'd ever met. I was in awe of her.”

“Was?”

Kate nodded. “Marti passed away my senior year. She'd made it much farther than many facing the same challenge do, and she was really strong about it as the end neared. It was the rest of us who completely fell apart.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Thank you. I was, too. I had already decided I wanted to focus my studies on early childhood development.” She paused, then shrugged. “Not sure why, but it had always called to me. Maybe to help me understand the very abnormal one I had, who knows.” She waved her hand at him. “And don't say it. I know I led a privileged life growing up, but I would have traded the money and private schools for regular parents who actually sat down to dinner with me more often than on holidays and special occasions.”

“I wasn't going to say a word. We come at the situation from opposite sides of the tracks, but neither of us had the optimal childhood.”

“I'm not comparing my situation to yours. I know you suffered in a far more—”

“It's okay. You don't have to make excuses. It's not a comparative thing in that way.”

She cocked her head and just looked at him.

“What?” he said, letting out a semi-self-conscious laugh. “I mean it.”

“I know you do. Thank you.” She smiled a little. “You have hidden depths, Donovan MacLeod.”

“Aw shucks, thanks, ma'am,” he said dryly.

“That wasn't a veiled insult. It's like you said, we don't really know each other.” She pushed away from the barn wall. “I'm just saying that I'm liking what I'm finding out.”

Mac's palms began to sweat as she took a step closer, her expression unreadable. He had no idea what her intentions were, and the sound of chopper blades cutting through the early evening air ended any chance he had of finding out.
Probably just as well
, he thought, wishing he believed it. Instead, he silently cursed the pilot. They were already behind schedule; another five minutes wouldn't have killed him, would it?

But before he did something he'd probably regret, Kate mercifully turned her attention to the slowly descending whirly bird.

“Shield your eyes. It's going to kick up dust,” he cautioned her, then went to the back of the truck for the dolly they'd brought with them from the camp. When he turned back, it was with more than a little surprise that he noticed the shiny black helicopter presently putting its props down in the middle of the field wasn't Trinity's.

He immediately ran back to the barn, took Kate's arm, and tugged her inside the barn. “Stay here!”

Keeping the back of his shoulder against the edge of the barn door, he palmed his clutch piece from his ankle strap.

“Why do I—what the hell is that? Why do you have a gun?”

He waved her silent. “Stay back in the shadows and don't so much as blink unless I call for you.”

“What's wrong?” she demanded. “At least tell me that much.”

“That's not our chopper.”

“But—how could it be anyone else's? Who else would show up out of the blue like—”

Mac didn't hear whatever came next. He'd just spied the very blond, very shaggy head of the pilot and was swearing quite colorfully as he stepped out of the barn.

Blue eyes widened as the pilot noted the gun. “Fine greeting.”

Mac tucked his piece back in the bootstrap. “I should shoot you right between the eyes.” He motioned to the bird. “That's the new toy? You work fast.”

“I tried to tell you about it, but you hung up on me.” Finn shrugged, looking far more Peter Pan than the legal eagle he'd once been. “Sorry I'm a little late, but I wanted to give her a spin before I decided on whether to invest, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I couldn't radio ahead. I was sort of tied up on something else.”

Mac didn't bother asking what. Or who. Between the three of them, they each pretty much always had something going on. Unless they needed to pair up, they didn't waste a lot of time explaining things. “Rafe get things rounded up in the city?”

Finn nodded. “Nailed down Frank this morning, recovered Fortenberry's ashes from our black market collector a few hours ago.” He grinned. “Another satisfied customer and a collector who won't be…collecting anything else for a little while.” He rubbed his hands together. “On to new adventures.”

Mac had to smile. For all Finn liked to play, the way he viewed it, the work they did was play of sorts. Everything he did was about Trinity and helping people out. Right down to his choice of toys. “New case lined up?”

Finn nodded. “I think I just took one on that might be a real test of my ability to—” He broke off and looked over Mac's shoulder. “Well, I'll be damned. She's even more beautiful than I remember. And reality beats the hell out of anything I dug up on the Internet.” He grinned at Mac. “No nudie pics, nothing. I did my best.”

“I just bet you did.” Mac turned as Kate walked up. “So much for staying in the barn until I called. You know, when I tell you—”

“What to do, I have to listen,” she finished for him. “And I will, when the situation warrants. But I do have two eyes.” She turned a bright smile on Finn. “And though it's been a very long time, even I recognized this guy.” She extended her hand. “It's great to see you again, Finn.”

“That goes double for me.” He took her hand in both of his and raised the back to his lips where he pressed a quick kiss, earning a glare from Mac, and a surprisingly girlish giggle from Kate.

Mac cleared his throat. “You get everything on the list? And that report on—”

Finn smacked Mac on the shoulder, never taking his eyes from Kate. “Always business with this guy,” he said to her.

“Me?” Mac said. “Me? Whose idea was the new toy as yet another business investment?”

Finn just grinned. “But it's pretty sweet, even you have to admit. You're just jealous because you never learned to fly the damn things with me and Rafe.”

“They aren't safe,” Mac grumbled, not making eye contact with a suddenly very interested Kate.

“Not real fond of heights, our boy here,” Finn explained. “Almost puked the first time I took him up.”

“That was more a commentary on your flight skills than the mode of transportation.” Or the fact that he'd been pretty damn sure he was going to get tossed out the open door every other second. Sans parachute. “You're a menace on the roads and in the sky.”

Finn was unapologetic. “I like fast things.” He grinned at Kate.

And Mac had to fight to keep from reacting. Finn was clearly baiting him, but Kate didn't know that. She certainly didn't need to know it was working. “Listen, Speed Racer, did you bring my stash of goodies or what?”

“When do I not deliver as promised?” He was still looking at Kate, who—was she blushing?

“Well, when I asked for a full report on Timberline and their Ralston connection, you came up empty-handed.”

Finn reached inside his flight jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, smacked it against Mac's chest, then stepped forward, effectively putting himself between Mac and Kate. “So, tell me, how has life been treating you, Kate?”

Mac scowled, but managed to stay put as Finn and Kate wandered off toward the barn. “I hate it when he does that,” he muttered, then flipped open the envelope. If Kate's head was turned by pretty, blond flyboys, then she could have him. Of course, Finn Dalton was a hell of a lot more than a pretty flyboy. And Kate knew it. “Damn it to hell.” He purposely turned his back on the two of them and slid out the envelope's contents. The rapidly fading light made it hard to read the fine print of the report, and, given the heft of it, it was probably better to hold off and read it when he could process the information.

At the moment, he was more interested in hitting something. Preferably his partner's too pretty face.

Which, of course, was ridiculous. He loved Finn like a brother, and they all three knew better than to let the occasional—okay, maybe more than occasional where Rafe was concerned—woman come between them. But this was Kate. And Finn had to know how confused and roiled up he was about all this. He glanced back without meaning to. Their heads were bent close, and he could hear Kate's laughter float through the chilly evening air.

He watched Finn's body language. He was engaging her, but he was keeping just enough distance between them to keep it impersonal. The three of them rode each other pretty hard whenever possible, and boundaries got pushed all the time, but when it came down to it, they'd never purposely do anything to get in the way of the other. So, more than likely, Finn was just distracting her a little from the tension and gravity of the situation she was in, while giving Mac a chance to look over the report without her looking over his shoulder.

Still, he didn't have to look like he was having so much damn fun doing it.

Mac slid the report back out, but it took a second longer before he looked away from the two of them. It shouldn't bug him. Not just because Finn was relatively harmless in this particular case, but because…Mac had no business feeling anything remotely close to the proprietary feelings he was experiencing at the moment. He forced his attention back to the papers in his hand and began reading the lengthy report.

His scowl deepened as he slowly flipped through the papers. Finn had come through after all. He finally slid the papers back in the envelope, folded it in half and jammed it inside his jacket, then grabbed the hand truck. He already knew he was going to need more than the basic surveillance equipment he'd asked for. They still had no definitive proof—yet—but the prickling warning along the back of his neck was enough proof for Mac.