FOR HER EYES ONLY Page 14

  "Softies?" Connor echoed, grimacing.

  Liz smiled at him, then leaned closer to Michelle. "Okay, most of them are. Connor and David here still like to think themselves immune, but Mel and I are working on it."

  Jake didn't miss how easy it was for her to exclude him from that dwindling group of bachelor McCoys. He opened his mouth to correct her, to tell her that he was still very much a bachelor, then he caught Pops staring at the ring on his finger. Judging by the heat of his face, Jake suspected he turned fifty kinds of red. His father lifted his gaze. The grin Sean gave him nearly knocked him over.

  Liz continued with her introductions. "This here is the family patriarch, Sean. But none of us call him that. He's Pops to us." She motioned to where Connor stood at the top of the stairs, his arms crossed over his denim-clad chest. "The old hardie up there is Connor, the oldest. Next to him, that cutie is Mitch, my guy." Her smile nearly spread across the whole of her face. "Where was I? Oh, yes. See the one next to Mel? That's her husband, Marc." She leaned closer to Michelle to add in a lower voice, "They've been arguing, so don't pay them any mind—something about Marc being assigned to protect one of the presidential candidates. He's Secret Service. Oh, and the blond one over there with the Brad Pitt good looks? That's David, the baby of the family." David snorted even as he grinned his hello. "Never mind him. He's not too happy right now, either, because Jake was supposed to go hiking with him this week." Liz turned her smile on Michelle. "Looks like Jake had more interesting things on his agenda, though."

  Jake grimaced. If Liz only knew the half of it.

  Aggravated, he waved toward the house. "Why don't you take Michelle inside and show her to my old room. I…" What? Need to get as far from here as humanly possible? "Um, I need to go get something out of the car."

  Michelle looked at him as Liz led her through the throng of bone and muscle on the stairs, Mel instantly taking her other arm when they reached the top. Jake didn't miss the shadow of grief in Michelle's brown eyes when she saw Mel's girth, the baby she carried grown larger every time he saw her. He also didn't miss his wash of guilt at having abandoned her to the well-wishing but overwhelming attentions of his sisters-in-law.

  He cleared his throat then turned toward the car. As soon as he'd moved a couple of feet, he pulled and twisted at his wedding band, covertly trying to work it from his finger. The sucker wouldn't budge. Goliath caught up with him, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth as Jake frowned at him.

  "Quite a looker, your Michelle," Pops said, coming up on the other side of Goliath.

  "A little on the short side, isn't she?" Connor said, coming up on Jake's other side.

  David popped up next to him. "They've always said dynamite comes in small packages."

  "Yeah, and if it's one thing Pops always tried to drill into you, it's to stay away from explosives. You'd best remember that," Connor said.

  Jake curled his fingers into fists. He wanted to tell them all to leave him alone so he could sort everything out, figure out where to go from here. But he knew better. The moment he asked them to leave, they'd only stay longer. "Anyway, it's nothing like that," he said. Liar. It was exactly like that Michelle's combustible response to him was exactly the reason he was in this mess.

  Jake looked at Mitch as they neared the car. He couldn't quite make out what his younger brother was thinking. It wasn't too long ago that Jake had called Mitch's relationship with Liz into question. While Mitch had never been the vengeful type, it didn't make sense that he wouldn't say something, anything, now.

  They reached the car. Jake made a show of opening the trunk.

  "So tell us what it is like, then," Connor said, leaning against the side of the car and crossing his arms.

  Jake rifled through his backpack, not really looking for anything but not wanting to look at the only brother who was older than him, either. Connor had always been what his high-school English teacher had called a Nosey Parker. Jake couldn't count the scrapes he and Connor had gotten into over the span of their lifetimes. From something as simple as what to fix for breakfast to what they should do about Marc, who was always getting into some sort of trouble or other when they were younger, anything was capable of setting them off. Ultimately, though, Jake had usually conceded. Not because he thought Connor was right, but because it wasn't worth more than a couple of jabs.

  "It's complicated," Jake muttered.

  David poked around inside the trunk and spotted the backpack. "Hey, you really were going to come hiking, weren't you? Are those Timberland? Good Lord, Jake, you really went top of the line, didn't you?" David absently tugged the backpack from Jake's grip. His chuckle somehow lightened the atmosphere. "Look at this. All the things a guy needs for survival in the wilderness." He quirked a brow at Jake, holding up a book. "Did you really think I'd make you eat moss?"

  Jake snatched the book. "It was a possibility."

  "I'm crushed."

  "You'll get over it."

  Pops cleared his throat. "She seems like a nice enough girl."

  Jake stuffed the book into his pack then looked at his father. "She's a woman, Pops, through and through. And yes, she is nice—straightforward. fresh, um, nice." He felt his face go hot again. "When she talks, I know where she's coming from, you know? And she … gets me. Most of the women I date … um, dated, thought something was wrong if I wasn't talking a mile a minute. Not Michelle. We can sit for hours without a word passing between us—"

  Connor barked a laugh. "Probably because she doesn't know English well enough to carry on a—"

  "Her English is better than yours, Con of the Jungle."

  His four brothers and father went silent. Judging by their open-eyed expressions, Jake pretty much figured he'd shocked the hell out of them.

  Sean squeezed his shoulder. "I don't think I've ever heard you say so many words before in one breath."

  David laughed. "Yeah, and I wouldn't exactly say wit is one of your stronger suits, but what you just said to Connor… Well, let's just say that since your jaw's still attached, he must not have expected it, either."

  The six of them laughed, Jake included.

  Marc shrugged. "Hey, whatever trips your trigger, you know? And after getting a look at her … well, I can certainly see where she'd be capable of doing that."

  Mitch frowned at Marc. Jake was reminded again that Mitch had yet to say anything about the situation. He'd yet to do anything more than smile when it was expected. Jake didn't know why, but he had the feeling his brother had something to share that wasn't along the lines of, "You did what?"

  Sean sighed and looked at the house. "Yeah, well, I think we've busted poor Jake's chops enough, guys. What say we leave him to his business and get in to that, um, breakfast the McCoy women have scared up for us?"

  "Scared being the operative word," Connor grumbled, stuffing his hands deep in his jeans pockets. He gave Jake a sidelong look, shrugged, then started toward the house.

  David hefted the backpack out of the trunk. "Mind if I look through this stuff?"

  Jake waved him off. "Go ahead. Just know I have an inventory of everything in there."

  Marc chuckled then put a headlock on their youngest brother as they sauntered away.

  Only Pops and Mitch remained. Pops gave Mitch a long glance, but Mitch ignored him and pretended an interest in the old barn that stood hulking in the right front corner of the property.

  Pops sighed. "Okay, obviously you two have something to discuss. Just don't be too long, or else Liz'll have both your butts in a sling." He started to step away, then stopped. "You do remember what day it is, Jake?"

  Jake stared at his father, searching his memory. Then it hit him. It was the anniversary of their mother's death. He nodded solemnly.

  "We thought we'd head over to the site around eleven. That okay with you?"

  "Yeah."

  Finally, he and Mitch were alone. Jake closed the trunk and looked at his younger brother curiously.

  "Come on, let
's go see how the horses are doing," Mitch said, draping an arm around his shoulders.

  Jake ground his teeth together. Why the dramatics? He had the sinking sensation that he was being led to the slaughter. Then he realized that Mitch must know what he'd found out from Edgar, which shouldn't have surprised him. When he'd called Mitch the day before, he should have known he'd do some checking around on his own. And considering the nature of the information, the FBI would be the perfect place to do that checking.

  Jake sighed. Normally, he would wait for Mitch to do the talking. But he couldn't stand the silence a moment longer. "Look, Mitch, I know what you're going to say. And while I appreciate your concern, this is really something I have to work out by myself."

  The wide-eyed look was something Jake should be growing accustomed to by now, but the truth was, it wasn't an expression he was used to inspiring. He didn't think it ever would be. "Fair enough," his brother said, finally.

  They entered the new barn, the sharp and subtle odors assaulting Jake's nose as fresh straw crunched underfoot One of the stallions nickered, and Mitch reached into a pail near the door for a cube of sugar to feed him.

  "So you know all you have riding on the line here, then, huh?"

  Jake nodded, wishing he had his brother's touch with animals. Just like with children, animals tended to be wary of him, afraid. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was because he never fawned over them the way his brother did. Hesitantly, he reached out for a few cubes of sugar, the grainy feel a new one against his skin. He held his hand out to the sleek black stallion whose nameplate read Seti.

  "Lower your hand a little and bring it in a little closer," Mitch said quietly.

  Jake did so. The horse smelled it first with his cool nose, then lapped the cube up with infinite skill. Jake frowned at the wet mess he left behind. Mitch laughed and handed him a towel "Never were much for getting dirty, were you, Jake?"

  "That's not dirt, that's slime."

  Mitch slapped him on the back and led him down the aisle.

  "So … how's married life treating you?" Jake asked, hoping to encourage their conversation away from himself and Michelle.

  "Liz and I are doing just fine." Mitch shrugged. "She insists the color I painted the office is not the color she requested. Hell, I tell her, what's the difference between magenta and eggplant, anyway? Then there's this discussion about kids. I want them now, she thinks it's too soon. Says I should content myself with being an uncle to Marc and Mel's baby for the time being." His grin was infectious. "She also won't even consider going above two kids."

  Jake hiked a brow. "You want more?"

  Mitch nodded, looking a little gob-smacked. "Yeah, I do. Funny, isn't it? I never really gave it a great deal of thought until after I finally roped Liz in. Now I want to pop as many out as we can. I don't think there's anything more exciting than the thought of ten or twelve little Lizzes running around the place."

  Jake nearly choked.

  "Okay, maybe four or five."

  "You know, you're just as likely to get another batch of stubborn McCoy males."

  "Yeah, I know." He tightened his grip on Jake's shoulder. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it? The place could do with a few more strapping males. Of course, my first choice would be a little girl, one who preferably would wear those cute little pink dresses and shriek if she so much as got her black patent leather shoes dirty."

  Jake smiled at the image, only in his mind he superimposed little Lili's face on the girl in question.

  He cleared his throat, realizing he didn't have a clue what Lili was like. Was she like her mother? Was she affectionate, playful, able to tell a joke as well as get one? Was she sweet and feminine, leaning toward all things frilly?

  "Gotta tell you something, though, Jake," Mitch said as he led them out the other side of the new construction. "I never thought you would beat us all to the fatherhood bit."

  "Fatherhood?" Jake nearly croaked.

  Mitch smiled at him. "Of course. You realize that you are officially a stepfather now, right? That Elizabeth—"

  "Lili," he automatically corrected.

  "Okay then, Lili. You know that the moment you married her mother, you essentially took on the role of her father. Well, a father once removed, but from what I saw listed on her real father… Well, let's just say you're her father."

  "Father?" Jake felt like an idiot for repeating Mitch so often, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Yes, while he'd married Michelle to help her stay in the country long enough to find Lili, he'd never stopped to consider what that meant for her daughter … his daughter.

  He suddenly felt light-headed.

  "What's the matter, Jake? You all right?"

  "Yeah." He grinned stupidly. He was all right. More than all right, he felt proud, somehow. Which was even dumber, given their circumstances. But just the thought of a little girl out there needing a father, and him being legally in line for the job… "Wonder if this is the way Marc feels. You're right, of course. Lili is now my daughter, even though I've never met her."

  Mitch chuckled quietly. "Difference is, you're going to get to skip all those slimy diapers."

  Jake laughed. Then laughed again. Then laughed so damned hard he nearly bent over double.

  Good Lord, he was a daddy…

  * * *

  Michelle walked around Jake's room, then walked around it again. Most might think the room revealed little about the boy who had once inhabited it. She smiled. She thought it revealed everything.

  The narrow bed in the middle of the room was covered by a blue broad plaid patterned spread, the curtains at the windows made from the same fabric. The old desk in the corner was completely clean, likely everything tucked away in the drawers, a place for everything and everything in its place. The bookshelves were neat, the books lined up by size rather than by author. She stepped closer. Tom Sawyer sat right alongside Clancy. She fingered a small, tarnished statue of a cowboy, strong and silent. She ran her thumb over the somber features then put it down.

  She told herself she should feel out of place here, in this strange room, in this foreign place, but she didn't. Jake was everywhere. In every corner. In every crease in the curtains. Surrounding her. Filling her.

  She moved to the window. Jake was coming out of a low building with his brother … Mitch, she recalled. Her heart did an immediate somersault in her chest. Oh, how she loved this man. And the thought that she soon wouldn't be able to see him…

  She wouldn't think about that, refused to think about that. She hugged her arms around herself and listened to the sound of laughter coming from downstairs. His family was just as she imagined. Cohesive. The type that gathered on Sundays, like today, for dinner. Breakfast was a rarity, Liz had told her when she'd brought her upstairs, but what with everything that was happening with Jake… Well, last night found them all gathered at the house waiting for word.

  She couldn't imagine growing up in such an environment. While her mother was alive, it had been just her father, mother and her. Then there had been Dad and Jacqueline, then later, three more children. But there was never the closeness so evident in the family downstairs. Everyone in her family had always had their own agendas. Her step siblings had school activities, Jacqueline was busy with her interests, and while Michelle and her father occasionally managed to grab a meal out together, it wasn't the same thing. The ghost of her mother always seemed to be hovering somewhere nearby.

  She remembered that Jake, as well, had lost his mother. But rather than rip the family apart, it appeared to have drawn them closer together.

  A brief knock sounded at the door. Thinking it was Jake, she told him to enter.

  "Hi," Liz said. "I didn't know if you'd still be up. Jake said you two were on the road pretty much all night. But I just wanted to bring you up a plate of food, you know, in case you were hungry." She set a tray on the clean desktop, then turned and smiled. "If you're not tired, you can always come down and join us."

  "Than
ks. Maybe I will."

  Liz held out a small bag. "I'm sure you probably have everything you need, but I gathered some things you might want. There's a toothbrush, toothpaste, nightgown." Her smile was decidedly wicked. "If you're anything like me, you never wore much to bed before. In this place, though, you never know who'll be walking through the door."

  Michelle laughed, deciding she liked this Liz McCoy, wife of Mitch. "Thanks."

  Liz looked around the room. "Okay. I guess I'll leave you alone then. Just give me a yell if you need anything all right?"

  "All right. And—" she smiled, "—thank you."

  "No need for thanks. You're family now, Michelle."

  She closed the door quietly. Michelle stared after her for a long moment. How she wished that Liz's words were true. That she really was a part of this large and warm family. That she and her daughter could be included in these meals, the inside jokes, a part of the intricate support system so evident in their closeness.

  She startled herself with the direction of her thoughts. She'd never before considered living outside France, residing in another country where the customs, the language, were so different. Never considered raising her daughter anywhere else. And it was dangerous to be considering it now, because it wasn't an option.

  Jake had been acting strangely ever since his run-in with Edgar outside the Evanses' last night. He'd been quiet, thoughtful, almost sad, even. She'd wanted to ask him what was wrong but hadn't dared. She was afraid of what his answer would be. Had he given up all hope of finding Lili? Had the prospect of coming home, of returning to his normal life, made him realize the mistake he'd made by helping her by marrying her?

  She nearly jumped when the door opened again. This time it was Jake.

  Her heart skipped a beat. If she thought she felt him in the room before, it was nearly overwhelming now. He seemed to fill every inch with his height, his presence.