In Safe Hands

Ten years it had taken. He had worked hard and smart enough to climb to the top of one of the largest Mexican drug cartels. It would be too humiliating to have it come down around his ears, all because he had needed to take one small bit of revenge.

In truth, he’d managed to become the jefe—the boss—by demanding respect, and everyone knew that respect must be maintained.

No one blamed him because his organization had been infiltrated by an international undercover operation. Those agents had had their jobs to do, and he had his. All is fair in such wars. In fact, when he’d learned of their operation—fortunately before much damage could be done to his own organization—he felt respect for the men who had planned such a daring sting.

Respect for everyone but the traitor who’d become his lieutenant. Sighing, he thought once again of Juan. Juan, who’d been like a son to him. Better even than his own sons, because the man had had polish. Juan had accomplished things that his sons and nephews could not. It had been Juan who negotiated the money exchanges with higher-ups, Juan who bought and sold the real properties, Juan who could talk to the patrones and the politicians with more culture and power. Without Juan, the jefe’s connection with the big boss, Governor Garcia, would never have happened. His cartel would’ve been much less powerful.

Congenial and smart, Juan had been a tremendous help. The very idea that he’d been a spy all that time still rankled.

“Jefe, the hombre you wait for, was that him on the phone? El Cuervo de la Muerte? The Raven of Death?” Carlos, one of his men, had sucked up enough courage to interrupt the boss’s thoughts.

He nodded. “Yes, but El Cuervo will find his own time on earth growing short. He has failed in his mission. I have issued orders.”

“El Cuervo did not kill the Anglo? The nosy one?”

The jefe could swear he’d gone over these plans with Carlos earlier. Why couldn’t the man remember even the most important things? Carlos’s incompetence made him think of Juan, and that made him angry again.

“The Raven was supposed to eliminate Colin Fairfax, Juan’s brother. I cannot allow this Fairfax to continue asking questions. He must die. But El Cuervo missed his opportunity.” The jefe spat out the words in a fury. “Twice. The Raven of Death will not live to fail a third time. There are others who can be bought who will not fail.”

Carlos backed up and visibly shivered in his boots. “I do not understand the importance of this Fairfax. Juan is muerto. Why do you care if his brother asks questions? All the world should know el jefe demands respect and loyalty. The punishment for betrayal must be death.” Carlos shrugged, as though the idea was obvious.

The jefe waved his underling away as he had no wish to continue this conversation. The truth was bad enough. He could not afford word of it to spread.

The mistake had not been his fault. How was he to know that the traitor, Juan, had married since he’d disappeared into hiding? No one had heard from Juan for nearly a year when the jefe’s people finally managed to bribe a man who knew of his whereabouts. The minute he had been found, Juan’s fate had been sealed, though the jefe paid extra to make it look like an accident.

Qué carajo! How was he to know about a marriage that had been kept a secret from everyone? The jefe groaned under his breath as he faced his bad luck. Even the killing of an innocent woman should not have been too terrible as collateral damage. Innocent people died in cartel slayings every day.

But it had turned out this woman was special. Of all the people on earth for Juan to have married and died beside, why had he chosen Governor Garcia’s young daughter? And why had she chosen Juan as a means to escape her father?

Thankfully, the young couple had kept their romance quiet. It wasn’t much of a break, but the jefe could use it. Governor Garcia was still looking for his missing daughter and had no idea she’d married. But the powerful man would find out eventually. And then he would not give up until he learned the rest. The governor didn’t have his own black brujo magic the way the jefe did. He couldn’t see the future in the crystals, nor frighten his enemies with hexes and curses, but the governor did have many of his own contacts, and much power. That made it imperative for the jefe to stop nosy questions before the wind could carry the news back to the governor’s ears. All people asking those kinds of questions must disappear.

The jefe’s hands shook as he tried to pour himself a drink. He had also just learned of something else that had the potential to be much worse news for him. Something he had somehow missed months ago and now wasn’t sure he knew how to handle.

It seemed Juan and the governor’s daughter had had a child together. A baby. And that baby lived, despite the “accident” that killed its parents.

Taking a much-needed shot of tequila straight and warm, the way it was meant to be, the jefe felt the familiar burn clear to his gut as he wondered what he should do about the child when he found it. And he would find it. It was only a matter of time.

“What were you thinking?” Maggie shoved at Colin’s chest and narrowed her eyes at him. She should be giving him the evil eye, but he refused to look at her directly.

They’d quit running long enough to stop at the hotel, so Colin could pick up his duffel from the luggage check. Now they were down in Penn Station, trying to stay lost in the crowds. Colin kept his eyes shuttered from her view. She figured that meant he felt guilty for getting them both into that jam back at the bar. Well, he should. That was twice she’d had to save his life.

“Answer me. What the devil possessed you to try meeting with that man again? Are you crazy? Isn’t one attempt on your life enough?”

He folded his arms over his chest, lifted his chin and gave her a cold appraisal. “I couldn’t believe…the man I contacted is an agent for your government. I didn’t expect anyone working for the United States to send an assassin. Rather cheeky of him, if you ask me. I was only trying to find the truth about my brother.”

This wasn’t a joke, darn it. Fuming, she grimaced as she stared him down. His nearness gave her goose bumps, but she wouldn’t put up with any nonsense. She opened her mouth to tell him off, then promptly shut it again. Maggie couldn’t be too hard on him. Not when she understood how devastated he must feel underneath everything else.

Besides, someone wanted him dead. That whole, wild idea made her knees weak.

“Let’s sit a minute and settle down,” she whispered.

They found a quiet alcove, and by some miracle, two empty seats. As Colin plopped both his duffel and himself down, he gave her a quick glance, then began studying his shoes. She could feel the silent grief rolling off him in waves. So he hadn’t trusted her. Big deal. If she’d been in his place, she probably would’ve done the same.

Compassion colored her thoughts, making her heart go all mushy for the poor guy. She decided to give him a break—find a way to keep his mind off of dealing with the guilt.

By talking his ear off. “I have two brothers of my own, you know.”

He shot her a questioning look, and she figured she was on the right track. Give him something else to think about.

“Oh yeah,” she rambled on. “Two big brothers. When we were kids, it was both a blessing and a pain to have them hovering over me all the time. They taught me to ride and rope and swim. The three of us are real products of our environment. Have you ever been to south Texas?”

Without waiting for him to answer—without even taking a second breath—she babbled on. “After being separated for almost fifteen years, all of us are finally living within a few miles of each other. My oldest brother, Josh, he was a Ranger in the army. In Afghanistan. Did you say you were stationed in Afghanistan? You two might have met there.

“Anyway, my other brother, Ethan, was in the Secret Service, guarding big shots like ambassadors, and even the President of the United States on occasion. Both Josh and Ethan are back home in Texas now, helping me with my new business.” Her voice softened. “Josh is married and Ethan is engaged. Both of them are in the process of adopting the kids that came along with the wonderful women in their lives. But that’s another long story. I don’t think you want to—”

Colin lifted his head and raised a hand. “Take a breath before you faint, love.”

Maggie elbowed him in the ribs. She drew in a deep breath and tried to calm down, but kept her eyes trained on Colin’s face. His expression seemed lighter, less sad.

“What kind of accent do you have?” he asked. “I’ve been to a lot of places in the world, but I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”

The idea hit her without warning. He needed to come home with her. Get out of this city and away from whatever danger stalked him. Colin should also take the opportunity to see his brother’s grave and meet his darling baby niece. Maybe if he did all that, it would make him feel a little less guilty about losing track of his brother, give him closure of a sort.

And maybe…Well, if he saw that Emma was happy and healthy and living with people who adored her, maybe he would be more amenable to letting the baby stay where she was.

“The accent’s a mishmash, same as me,” she answered airily. “My granddaddy and Nana Ryan came over from Ireland as a young couple and never lost their Gaelic lilts. I probably picked up a little of their accent when I lived with them.”

She sighed and drew in air. “And my Abuela Lupe, my mom’s mother, speaks with a heavy Spanish accent. She’s living in Mexico now, but she lived with us at the ranch until my mom died when I was fifteen. I learned a lot from her, including how to speak Spanish.”

She had his full attention now. He was staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Look,” she began as she rose to her feet. “Why don’t you fly home with me today? You can meet the baby and my family and friends. See your brother’s grave.”

He flinched at the mention of his brother.

With unexpected tears filling her eyes, she had to force herself to continue. “Maybe you’d like to put another headstone on his grave. One with the right name and all.” Lordy, but she sure hoped he wouldn’t want to take his brother’s body back to England. She wanted baby Emma to be able to visit her daddy’s grave when she got old enough to understand.

“Come to Texas with you?” Colin looked a little overwhelmed. But soon enough his eyes cleared and he too stood. “That’s a brilliant idea, Maggie, love.”

“Well…great. Let’s go then.” She turned, but kept right on talking over her shoulder as she picked up her backpack. “We can take the Air Train from here. It’ll get us to the airport in enough time for—”

Colin grabbed her arm, swung her around and pulled her close. Too close. It took her breath away.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he whispered against her lips as he gazed into her eyes. “I’m not sure how you managed all of this yet, but I owe you a debt.”

“Uh. No.” She could barely think while standing this close to the blue and silver highlights in his eyes. “You—”

Breaching the gap between them, he stopped her words—her thoughts, her breathing—by lasering a kiss across her lips. A sudden rush of fire through her veins turned her world upside down, and the unflappable Maggie Ryan finally hit the wall.

Chapter 4

That one blasted kiss! Whenever Colin had looked toward Maggie since their encounter, he’d found her still fingering her bottom lip. Even now, hours later, as she drove the four-wheel drive away from the San Antonio airport and headed toward her home in South Texas, her left hand absently touched her soft, full mouth. It was as if she couldn’t quite get past the kiss they’d shared.

Well, hell, he was having a lot of trouble moving beyond that kiss as well. What the devil had he been thinking? Of course, the truth was he hadn’t been thinking at all. Just reacting.

Normally, he thought things through. It seemed that Maggie Ryan had turned ordinary into unusual.

He and Maggie had that explosive sort of chemistry that would be a huge problem if he didn’t watch himself. For the life of him, he could not imagine why he responded as he did toward her. She was just too complicated, and he’d promised himself that he would not touch her again.

Headlights from oncoming cars shone through the windshield often enough for him to see her profile. She didn’t look a thing like his mother, but she reminded him of his mother every time he caught a glimpse of her face in the bright light. His mother had been unique—not something an English schoolboy considered a good thing.

Maggie’s face was unique, too. Different from the British girls he’d grown up around. Staring at Maggie, he decided her looks were even more exotic than his mother’s. Where his mother’s hair was an Irish bright red and her skin as milky colored as clotted cream, Maggie’s hair was deeply auburn, with shiny copper highlights, and her skin tone was the golden color of summer sunlight.

She’d been right. Her looks were as much of a mishmash as her accent, but the total effect was stunning. Particularly her eyes. She looked at him for a moment, and once again, Colin found himself drawn into their mystical, green depths. The intimate exchange left him shaken.

Why had he ever considered traveling home with her? Yes, he was desperate to know more about his brother and the way he had died. But he should have found some other way. It seemed she was one of those vivacious and fiercely independent women, the kind that ran over everyone with her own plans. And that made her trouble. Just like his mother.

“How much farther is it to your home?” he asked, wishing he could have walked, rather than ride in this confining vehicle with her any longer.

She shot him a sideways glance. “Zavala Springs is nearly a two-hour drive from the San Antonio airport,” she admitted. “Just relax.”

Relax? Not a chance. He folded his arms and gazed into the complete darkness outside his window.

“Colin, you never finished telling me about your brother. Why don’t you tell me now?”

Why not, indeed. At least it would take his mind off the woman sitting beside him.

“John…John was rather a sickly lad,” he began gruffly. “But when he was a child, before he turned six and became ill, I wanted to take him everywhere with me. He was sweet and charming. Everyone liked him and fussed over him. I wanted to show him off.”

Come to think of it, Colin had always thought of his baby brother as a kind of trophy. Some wonderful possession. A pet.

But he had never considered his feelings toward John in this way before, so why the devil had he thought of them like that now?

He cleared his throat. “John couldn’t keep up with me after a while. I’m not sure what his health condition was, I was too young to understand. But my mother’s mother came from Ireland to live with us so she could cure him. She used natural healing techniques and other kinds of…um…remedies.”

“Did it work? Did he get better?”

“I suppose so. But it took several years, and by that time my mother had decided she didn’t want to live with us anymore. She and my grandmother took John and returned to Ireland.”

He rubbed at the ache in his chest.

“I guess I get the idea that sometimes husbands and wives go their separate ways,” Maggie said softly. “But I don’t understand how your own mother could leave you behind. Did she explain her reasons to you?”

He shook his head again, then realized she couldn’t see his actions in the dark while concentrating on the road ahead. “No. But I know my parents had a big row about it. In fact, they’d begun arguing every day. I never wanted to overhear their arguments, and tried to hide when the shouting began.”

His eyes clouded over at the memory, but he set his jaw and continued. “One day I heard them say my name. Later, when I went to my mother for an explanation, she was gone. She’d taken John and my grandmother and disappeared from my life.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Maggie’s voice held a note of deep sympathy that Colin would have rather avoided.

He’d never spoken of this with anyone. Why would he do so with a woman who made him uncomfortable?

“What did your father have to say? Did he explain?”

Well, he’d been the one to start this. He had no choice but to finish the tale.

“My father was a broken man without her. He lived another fifteen years, but he was never the same. We never spoke of my mother again. But I could see the hurt in his eyes every time he looked at me.”

“Looked at you? Why?”

“I have my mother’s eyes,” he answered as he shifted under his seat belt. “So does…did…John. My father and I would speak of John often during those years. John wrote to me, you see, wrote all about his activities and asked about mine. The two of us carried on a grand correspondence throughout school. He was smart and funny in his letters, but we never spoke of Mother.” Colin exhaled deeply. “After graduation I suddenly became too busy to bother with a brother I barely knew and wouldn’t recognize. And then, while in the army, I lost track of him.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. I think it’s normal for young people to want to find themselves for a few years. I know both of my brothers did the same thing.”

Colin had the distinct impression Maggie’s family would never be able to completely lose track of her.

“But I don’t understand why you two didn’t try to see each other,” she continued. “After you were adults, I mean. Y’all are family.”

Not much of a family, he thought. But he wouldn’t say so. He had already said more than he should.

“We were never in the same hemisphere at the same time,” he told her dismissively.

Maggie apparently understood his need to end the discussion of John for now. But that didn’t mean she was done prying.

“Did you confront your mother about leaving? Did you ever see her again?”

“Once.” The word exploded from his mouth before he could drag it back. “I saw her once. At Father’s funeral. But that was no place for…she had no place there, dressed in mourning.”

After a long pause, Maggie nodded for him to continue.

He finally found the strength to go on. “John didn’t come,” he started. “Not to his own father’s funeral.” The idea still astounded him, but things were becoming clearer, the more he’d found out about John’s situation.

“I had to take leave from my unit to attend. Come down from the mountain passes and turn my back on my mates in their battles, in order to say goodbye to my father.” He rubbed at his temple, trying to shake the images out of his head. “I only discovered a few weeks ago that, by then, the SIS had recruited John for an international drug sting in Mexico. John was deep undercover, and couldn’t attend Father’s services.”

“I see,” Maggie said with a catch in her voice. “And now you’ll never be able to talk with your only brother about any of it again. That might be one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard.”

Stunned at her words, he stared over at her profile as she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. He reached for her, brushing his fingertips across her hair.

“Maggie…” His own voice cracked, reminding him that he’d promised himself not to touch her again. He needed to come away from this experience whole and strong, and falling under Maggie Ryan’s spell could destroy him.

He dragged his hand back to his side, and she never gave any sign that she’d known he’d been stroking her hair. Furious with himself over his lack of control, Colin slumped lower into his seat and closed his eyes.

The next morning in soft gray light and under overcast skies, Maggie tightened her grip around eight-month-old Emma and stared down at the grave belonging to the baby’s father. For months she and Emma had been coming here regularly, to place flowers on the two lonely graves. But before today, Maggie had spent her time in the cemetery, wondering about the people buried beneath the headstones. This morning she knew a little more about one of them.

She glanced over at Colin. He’d bowed his head, but his jaw remained tight and set. He suddenly reminded her of her father. She well remembered being at her grandfather’s funeral six months ago in this very same cemetery. When her father had stared down into the grave of his own father, whom he also hadn’t spoken to in many years, his expression had appeared equally sad and distant. She sighed, blinked and turned her face away.

Colin had been too quiet since they’d arrived at home last night. He’d barely said two words, except for asking to come here to see his brother’s grave this morning. On the other hand, she’d been eager to pick up Emma from Lara, her friend and neighbor who’d been babysitting, and couldn’t help babbling about the baby. But they’d gotten in to town well after midnight, and she had forced herself to wait until this morning to retrieve the baby.

Snuggling Emma closer, Maggie breathed in the fresh, sweet smell of baby powder and no-tears shampoo and felt the tension leaving her shoulders. So far, Colin had been conspicuously quiet about his niece. It was torture not knowing what he intended to do about Emma.

Maggie wanted to ask him but was still too afraid to know the answer. Rather than just come out with it, she decided to wait until the timing felt right.

Before he made any rash decisions, his spirit needed healing. The guilt he felt about his brother was written all over his face, and in the way his shoulders rounded as he stuck his hands in his pockets. She had the knowledge to help him heal, if he would let her. Despite her trepidation about how incredibly attracted she was to him, she still hoped he would stick around long enough for her to help him.

Emma must have suddenly come to the conclusion that no one was paying enough attention to her. She squealed and lifted a pointed finger toward Colin.

“Ba! Ma!”

Colin turned to look at the baby without smiling. “She looks like my mother.”

Maggie glanced down at the child in her arms. “I think she looks like you. Do you want to hold her?”

He shook his head and edged back a step. “I know what her father looked like, but what about the mother?”

“I never met her, of course,” Maggie began as she bounced Emma in her arm. “But her driver’s license picture showed a pretty woman with dark, golden hair and fair skin. Which is a little strange, because their neighbors in Alexandria say she spoke with a heavy Spanish accent.”

“You think my brother met her while he was in Mexico?”

“It’s possible. But if so, that would mean she probably came from a wealthy family. The richest and most powerful families there take pride in being descended from fair-skinned Spaniards. My own mother’s family comes partially from those Spaniards and partially from the original native Indians—related to the Mayans.” She stopped talking for a second, waved her free arm widely across her body and smiled, hoping to get a smile in return. “Thus, the stark but beautiful differences you may notice in my own coloring.”

No smile came back at her. Colin kept his features straight and his mouth immovable.

“We’ll probably never know for sure.” She hurried to fill up the silence, as Emma had already quieted down. “I don’t see any way that we’re going to be able to trace Emma’s mother. I suppose she will always be a woman of mystery.”

Colin nodded sharply, as though he agreed. Then he turned to stare at his brother’s headstone again.

Maggie heaved a heavy sigh. Once again, she was dying to ask him what was in the back of his mind about the baby’s future. But he hadn’t let himself get to know Emma at all. Maggie wanted him to do that much before he made any final decisions.

“When we get back to the house, you can contact your mother to tell her about your brother’s accident.” And that she has a granddaughter she has never met.