Man of Honor, A Page 2

  For Hunt, Cord would face his own demons. And for Tessa and the unborn niece or nephew she carried inside her. Duty called a man in different forms. He would answer this call although the cost would be painful.

  She stood in the center of the living room, watching him set down the hastily packed overnight bag he didn't want her carrying. Her face was strained, her blue eyes so big in her pale face that Cord instantly wanted to hold her. Wanted to comfort her. The words, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on," sat on his tongue like a rock, never to be spoken.

  The burning began.

  "Let me show you to your room." Gruffly, he motioned her to follow him down the hall.

  His room. Hunt's room - not the right place to put her in case Hunt never returned - two smaller rooms and then a final room that could be used for housing help on the ranch since it had a separate bathroom all its own. The walls were sunshine-yellow, painted many years ago by hismother. There was an old fourposter and a nightstand of oak. A brass lamp sat unlit on the nightstand.

  "I guess it's not much," he said reluctantly. "I'm sorry."

  "It's fine," she replied too quickly. "It's ... if you can show me where the sheets are, I'll make the bed. I'm tired and I know you could use some sleep."

  He doubted he could sleep. Not with Hunt missing or dead, not with Tessa in his house. Silently, he reached into the hall linen closet and pulled out some white sheets that he handed to her.

  "Towels are in here, grub's in the kitchen. I hope you'll make yourself as at home as possible, Tessa. I'm not a very good host and wouldn't know when you might be hungry."

  "I can find the kitchen," she assured him. "Right now, I just want to change and go to bed."

  "Good night, then." He backed away from her. She waited for him to disappear down the hall, so he did, feeling slightly as if he'd escaped a desperately awkward moment. Sighing, he went to stoke up a fire in the fireplace. Outside, the wind howled like a coyote looking for its mate. The eerie sound sent prickles along his arms. He stoked the fire harder, sending flames shooting up the chimney. He heard Tessa close her door. With a deep sigh, he put the poker down and threw himself into the leather recliner in front of the fireplace where he'd been dozing before the strangers came to inform him of the death of his brother, which they so greatly regretted telling him.

  Just before they'd asked about Tessa.

  Do military personnel stand on the porch to tell you you've lost your brother - or do they ask to come inside to deliver the bad news? Do fiancees make it on the regret-to-inform-you list? Maybe Hunt had listed Tessa on some paperwork as a next of kin, but Cord had a feeling that wasn't likely. His brother hadn't been one to settle down or to think long term, particularly about women - not even Tessa. It had been a relationship of fun and easy attachment, though Hunt certainly cared deeply for Tessa, more than any other woman he'd ever known. But not enough to make it to the finish line of marriage. It just wasn't Hunt's way.

  The whole incident seemed surreal, out of place. It rankled in his mind like a cocklebur, raising question after question. Tomorrow he would call the base to find out where he could get some honest answers.

  He focused his gaze on the hot, crackling fire. As the wind shrieked outside, he waited.

  For morning.

  Chapter Two

  Tessa awoke without remembering falling asleep. She had lain in the darkness, thinking. Remembering Hunt. Remembering how much fun they'd been having that afternoon in Madrid. She had been about to tell him about the baby. He wouldn't be happy; she knew that. There was no room in Hunt's life for a permanent hearth. His job was his life, and

  she was an extraneous part of it. He loved her in his own way, and she'd been satisfied with that.

  Until the baby.

  She could just hear the venom her mother would spew when she learned that her daughter was unmarried and pregnant. Folks in Crookseye who had known her since she was a baby would pity her. Classmates who'd gone to school with her and the Greer boys would gossip.

  Hunt would have offered to marry her if she'd had a chance to tell him.

  She'd worn a cheery cotton dress and sandals that last afternoon. A sea-green ribbon tied around her blond ponytail kept the slight breeze from blowing her hair into eyes that must have sparkled with expectation for the wonder inside her body - and her eyes would have

  held sadness for the breakup she knew was inevitable. Her body hadn't revealed any of its secrets - the pregnancy was too new.

  Closing her eyes, Tessa had sighed inwardly. Although she remembered the confused panic that had swept through her when she realized she'd been left high and dry, there always followed a tidal wave of relief that she hadn't uttered the four, life-altering words: We're having a baby. It was painfully obvious now that the complications could have been disastrous.

  Stranded in Spain, she'd had no choice but to call Cord. By phone, he'd immediately purchased her a ticket for home and told her to get on the plane. There had been firm instruction in his tone, but there had also been concern over Hunt. Cord plainly did not believe that Hunt would have abandoned her. It was possible that no one was after her

  now, but Cord tended to be very overprotective.

  She liked that, more than she would have thought. In fact, she tried not to think about Cord and his gentle strength.

  He reminded her of a shepherd keeping constant vigil over a flock.

  Hunt was the breeze blowing to the far corners of the earth. No one and nothing could hold him. In contrast. Cord was unshakable, unfailingly steadfast, an invincible fortress that would always be there.

  Of course she'd been attracted to Hunt. She didn't want to live and die never having strayed from the spot where she'd been born, the place where people looked down on the Drapers. Perhaps there was also an aura of excitement, of danger, with Hunt that had lured her.

  Passion in places where he spoke the language of the locals in different countries.

  The baby kicked restlessly inside her.

  She got to her feet and dressed. Making the bed, she told herself it did no good to let the ghosts of the past shape her destiny forever.

  To raise a child, she had to find a real job. There was very little she would be able to do in Crookseye Canyon, but she could talk to Mrs. Ashley, who lived next door to Cord. Mrs. Ashley was the nosiest of neighbors, but she had the brightest of hearts. She owned a beauty shop in town and perhaps she needed help. That would put Tessa front and center into where the gossip was hottest, but there was no way to run from what her life was going to be. She preferred to face it head-on and gainfully employed.

  Opening her bedroom door, she noted the silence in the cool, dark hallway. Maybe Cord had already left to feed his livestock. She crept down the hall to go into the kitchen, only to pause as she glanced into the den.

  Cord was sleeping in the recliner, in front of a fire that was now mostly smoldering ash. A long rifle lay across his lap. Tessa's heart rate suddenly accelerated. She forced back the scream of anger and frustration and fear. A man was protecting her with a loaded rifle,

  and she was pregnant by a man who was missing.

  "Good morning."

  Cord's eyes had suddenly opened to assess her from head to toe, while she was still trying to gather her wits so she wouldn't succumb to the black-edged hysteria.

  "Is it?" she asked numbly.

  "The wind has died down," he said, rising from the chair. He settled the rifle on a buck horn rack and stretched his long, tall body. "That's something to be grateful for."

  Something inside her snapped.

  "I don't care about the wind! I care about you sleeping in a recliner. You were really afraid

  someone might break into the house, weren't you? You didn't want them getting down the hall where I was! You slept right here! " She flung out a hand to indicate the chair in front of the fireplace.

  "Cord, I ... I'm scared." The tears she hadn't let herself cry before pricked af her eyelids.
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  "You shouldn't have to change your life because of me. This is not your problem. If I leave here, you can.."

  "Tessa. Stop," he commanded. She did, halting her disjointed rambling.

  "My brother is missing," he said quietly. "That changed my life. It doesn't matter how or why right now. It matters that it's a fact. I don't know whether anyone is after you or

  not. I'm just overly suspicious because I have a brother in a dangerous job. But he would want me to look after your well-being. And his child's." He took a deep breath.

  "I think we're better off trying to pull through this situation together. Have you ever thought about that? I need you as much as you need me. You and that baby are all of Hunt I have if those goons were for real and he's dead."

  She'd never thought of it that way.

  "I'm sorry." Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. "I didn't mean to be selfish. I think the gun startled me. "

  He nodded. Silently, he took the rifle off the rack on the stone wall, unloaded it, put the shells in a box and locked everything in the gun cabinet. "There."

  She smiled hesitantly.

  "You'd think I'd be used to them, growing up in Crookseye Canyon."

  Shrugging, he said, "It doesn't matter. It upset you, so I've put it away for now."

  For now.

  She looked away.

  "We don't know what's going to happen, Tessa. Let me make some calls. Hopefully, someone can give me the full story."

  He stared at her, and Tessa was struck by the kindness in his eyes. There was compassion and deep concern.

  "In the meantime, do you mind sticking fairly close to the ranch today? Until I do enough checking to satisfy myself that those jokers last night weren't genuine?"

  "But if they were, then that means Hunt is d.."

  "Don't think about it." His voice cut harshly across her words. "Knowing would be better than not knowing, but let's not say it until we get confirmation."

  "Okay," she said softly.

  They held each other's eyes for a moment.

  "Would you mind making some toast while I put in some phone calls?"

  She shook her head quickly, grateful for the chance to feel she was reciprocating his care of her.

  "I can burn toast with the best of them."

  "Great. I like charred bread. I'll be in my office."

  He went into a room off the den, and Tessa looked at the back of him as he exited. Strong, capable. Both the Greer men had a lot of admirable qualities.

  Hunt hadn't loved her, though.

  Intuition had told her a long time ago that Cord felt more toward her than brotherly. It was in his standoffish posture, in his discomfort when he was in the same room alone with her if Hunt went to do something while all three of them were in the house. It was the way she caught him watching her every once in a while, his eyes on her as if he was gazing at a fascinating, desirable treasure. His gaze would slip away guiltily if hers ever met it. She pretended not to notice.

  It was easier for everyone that way.

  But it made the situation all the worse now. She wanted Hunt to be alive for the sake of their child. Deep inside, she knew Cord would consider it his obligation to raise Hunt's child in the place of its missing father.

  Tessa didn't want that to be the case. She didn't want to be an obligation. She didn't want the people of Crookseye to laugh at her and her child because there was no father, and she didn't want to succumb to the caring in Cord's eyes. The truth was, letting him into her life would be taking advantage of him.

  No matter how desperate her circumstances became, she would not allow herself to cross that line. There were all kinds of different honor codes: Hunt's was for his country; Cord's was for his family and homestead.

  Tessa's was for her child. This baby wasn't going to be raised in the shame that had been her constant childhood companion. She would be proud of her child. She would be a loving mother. She would give this child the emotional security she had never known. She might have to raise her baby alone, but she would give it every last soul-nurturing ounce of what she had wanted all her life.

  Love.

  Thump! Nan Ashley hit Cord's office window with a flying newspaper, dead on, the way she did every morning at this time to announce herself, but still he nearly shot out of his boots. His ears, straining for the slightest suspicious sound, screamed danger with the heavy thud of noise against the pane. He cursed under his breath.

  Not at Nan, who tried so hard to unobtrusively care for him, but at the situation that had him so edgy.

  He got up to open the half glass-paned, half wood door, letting in a burst of frigid air.

  "Howdy, neighbor."

  She stamped her snow boots on the raffia doormat outside his office.

  "Scared ya, didn't I?" Her round, wrinkled face was rosy with delighted mischief.

  "Yes, ma'am. This time. One day, I'm going to scare you. You'll be surprised when a newspaper gets fired right back at you. "

  "Ha." She shrugged off his facetious retort and handed him the plastic-wrapped newspaper she always brought him although he rarely had time to read it. It was her excuse, her way of checking up on him.

  She glanced at him from head to toe.

  "Didn't see your truck leave this a.m."

  "I..." He glanced guiltily at the doorway. "I overslept."

  "Hmm. Not like you. You ailing?"

  "No, ma'am. Not in the least."

  "You ought to be eating a good breakfast every morning. Cord. At least a milk shake. " She sniffed the air warily. "What's that smell?"

  "Ah..."

  Tessa walked in, not noticing Nan standing behind him, and extended the plate.

  "Cord, here's your burned toast."

  Nan peered around his shoulder at Tessa - and then her offering.

  "Damn right," she said laconically. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to toast bread, child?"

  "Hello, Mrs. Ashley." Startled, Tessa glanced at Cord, who shrugged. "I don't suppose I've got much talent in the kitchen."

  "I'd say. On the other hand, it takes a special kind of woman to burn bread." Nan's gaze went from the plate to Tessa, to Cord and back to Tessa.

  "Special?" Tessa repeated.

  "Yep. Your attention was specially focused on something else." She eyed Cord shrewdly.

  "Heard from Hunt?"

  He didn't dare glance at Tessa.

  "Hoping to soon."

  "Well." Her alert gaze moved over each uncomfortable captive again. "Let me know if you do. I'm going to be working half days at the beauty salon starting today, so I can whip up a meal or two should you be needing it." Her tone held nothing but kindness, no intended slight to Tessa.

  "I'm sure we'd enjoy that. Why are you slowing down your work schedule?" He wanted her to focus on anything except Tessa, and right now, Nan's gaze wasn't missing a thing.

  "My knees are bothering me. Cord. And I've got more money than I know what to do with anyway. I keep the shop just so the gals'll have a place to work and the Customers'll have a place to gab."

  "I could pick up your extra half day," Tessa said eagerly, shocking the hell out of Cord.

  "No!" he automatically vetoed, his tone stern.

  Both women stared at him as if he'd taken leave of his senses.

  "I mean," he began again, intensely aware that he was between two women and had sounded way too male, "I mean... perhaps that isn't the best idea, Tessa."

  She blushed, clearly misunderstanding his concern to be about the baby.

  "Cord, it'll be fine."

  Nan's brows rose over cherry-dark eyes not quite hidden enough beneath wrinkled eyelids as she awaited his response with great interest.

  He cleared his throat.

  "I'd rather you didn't work right now, Tessa."

  The elderly woman's eyes fairly bugged with mischievous glee. She slapped Cord on the shoulder with a hefty whack that made his arm burn almost as hot as the skin on the back of his neck. "Why,
you old son of a gun! Aren't you taking your brotherly duties a bit too seriously Cord? Tessa's her own woman, aren't you, honey? And I'd love to have ya, but I need me a chauffeur more than anything. It would save my knees tremendously 'cause

  driving's what's really killing me. You can drive me to the salon and then back after we put in the morning hours. What do you say? "

  "Yes," she answered.

  "No!" Cord insisted. "Tessa"

  Nan elbowed him and flashed a genuine, teasing smile. "It's okay, big brother. I won't let her do anything that might harm the baby. You can rest easy on that account. There's no heavy lifting at a beauty parlor, Cord. Just a lot of gals having some fun and talking too much over curlers and coffee."

  Thunderstruck, Cord and Tessa stared at the gnome of a woman.

  "How did you know?" Tessa's hand instantly went to her stomach.

  Nan peered at the mound not quite disguised by the faded jeans and baggy sweater.

  "You're not exactly incognito, though I can tell you've tried hard to be. And Cord's macho routine is a dead giveaway."

  "I'm not being macho!" He merely wanted to make certain there were no bad guys waiting to chase Tessa down. She seemed to have forgotten all about his nighttime visitors.

  "Your mama know you're staying here, honey?" Nan stared pointedly at both of them.

  "Actually, I'm not really staying here"

  "Yes, you are," Cord said firmly. "Until the situation is resolved."

  "It'll take a couple of months just to resolve the situation, I reckon," Nan put in. "Hester's gonna have a fit if she finds out you're here."

  At the mention of her mother's name, he saw Tessa's face take on unhappiness like a sinking ship takes on water.

  "Hester doesn't have to know."

  "Nope. She won't know from me." She patted Cord's shoulder conspiratorially.

  "You'll make a fine uncle. Cord. You've always had that family instinct. It's the Irish in you, I suppose. Herding the flock together. Keeping the clan secure." She shuffled out the door,

  pulling a plastic rain bonnet from her coat pocket. "It's misting, and that might make the roads a little slick if it gets any colder. It'll sure as shooting make the ladies' hair fall, so I'll