“Really?” she asked with a raised brow. “A minivan?”
Sal lifted a massive shoulder. “Who’s going to look for you in a soccer-mom mobile?”
He had a point. She made the introductions and then watched as the two warriors acknowledged each other.
“It’s a pleasure,” Caleb said at last. “You’re a legend.”
Sal shook his head. “Nah. I’m just a good ol’ boy. Jake tells me that you saved his bacon back in the day.”
“Let’s just say we took turns saving each other’s bacon.”
Sal slapped Caleb on the shoulder. “Don’t I know it. Serving in the Sandbox, you learn who your friends are.” His expression sobered. “I heard about your brother and his wife. I’m sorry, man. No one deserves that.”
Grimacing, Caleb gestured to the backseat where Tommy slept. “Especially him.”
Sal’s mouth hardened. Shelley knew he had a soft spot for the innocents of the world. Jake had told her that his gentleness with children had earned him the nickname Gentle Giant.
“Yeah,” he said thickly. “Especially him.”
Caleb transferred Tommy from the car to the van. Tommy didn’t stir but slept on, his soft snores adding an air of normality to the situation.
Shelley supposed they should be grateful that he didn’t wake up, but she continued to worry about the boy’s lack of response. An unwelcome childhood memory surfaced. When she’d turned ten, she’d finally accepted that her mother, who had abandoned Shelley and Jake years earlier, wasn’t coming back.
For days, Shelley had shut down, going so deep inside herself that nothing had registered. The only thing that had pulled her out was Jake’s tears. Seeing Jake, the big brother she adored, crying had shocked her to the core.
What would it take for Tommy to find his way out of the numbing pain that encased him?
Not her problem, she reminded herself. Her job was to protect Tommy and Caleb. Getting Tommy the help he so obviously needed was his uncle’s responsibility.
“Thanks, Sal,” she said. “Tonight you saved my bacon.”
“All this talk of bacon saving is making me hungry. Be careful,” he added with a tap to her cheek. “Good bosses are hard to find.”
* * *
To Caleb’s surprise, Shelley didn’t immediately start the van after Sal drove off.
“We need to go through Tommy’s things,” she said.
“You think someone’s put a tracker in his stuff?”
“It’s one way of knowing where we’re going practically before we do.”
Together, Caleb and Shelley started going through Tommy’s belongings. Systematically, they searched his clothes and the few toys he’d brought with him.
“There’s nothing,” Caleb said in disgust thirty minutes later after they’d gone over each item twice. “Nilch. We’re back to square one.”
“You couldn’t have told anyone,” she mused aloud. “You didn’t even know where we were going. I was the only one.”
“Yeah.” The suspicion was back. Shelley was the only one who knew where they were had been going. So how had the shooters found them?
His feelings must have shown on his face, for she said, “Hey, they were shooting at me, too. I’m not the target. You are.” She paused. “That clipping was meant to scare you off.”
“I’m sticking. I owe it to Michael and Grace.”
How had anyone known about Ethan’s accident? It had happened almost thirty years ago.
As she had on the first leg of the journey, Shelley performed multiple SDRs. It ate up valuable time, but Caleb understood the necessity. No one could have followed the convoluted backtracking and lane changes she employed without being spotted.
They reached the cabin three hours later. Fashioned of split logs and stone, the structure was a perfect complement to its rural mountain setting.
While Caleb carried Tommy inside, Shelley brought in their bags.
“There’s a bedroom off that first door,” she said, gesturing to a hallway. “You and Tommy can bunk in there.”
“After what happened at the motel, I’d feel better if we all stayed together. In case...”
Shelley’s nod was one of warm understanding. “Of course.”
Caleb settled Tommy on a sofa, covered him with a throw he found on the back of a chair, then took the opportunity to check out the cabin. It wasn’t spacious but looked comfortable and clean. The soldier in him approved of the compact size. Small was easier to defend and control than large.
After noting the location of windows and doors, he nodded to Shelley. “Looks good.” He sat next to Tommy and then propped his feet on the stone coffee table.
“We’re both exhausted,” she said and sank onto a matching sofa. “Let’s get some sleep. There’re still a few hours before daylight.”
But she didn’t close her eyes. Neither did he. Adrenaline was still flowing through his bloodstream, making sleep impossible. He figured it was the same for Shelley. His thoughts were a quagmire of questions and self-recriminations. Like rowdy children, they refused to behave and leave him in peace.
Caleb didn’t like wasting time, so he decided to use it to learn more about his savvy bodyguard. She’d been both cunning and bold in outwitting and outdriving the SUVs.
“Jake said you were a top scorer in shooting competitions in the Service,” he said, recalling what Jake had told him about his sister. “Since the Service hires only the best of the best, that’s pretty impressive.”
Her elegant brow rose at his words, but she didn’t confirm them, her lips folded so tightly together that there was no hint of softness there. At the same moment, something raw flashed through her gaze. The darkness behind her eyes hinted at something he hadn’t expected. Sorrow. Regret. Guilt.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” she said at last. With those cryptic words, she turned away from him.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” But the word was muffled.
Caleb puzzled over her reaction. What had he said to make her stiffen up as she’d done?
Shelley came off as secure in who she was and what she did with her take-charge attitude and brash confidence. As much as he told himself he shouldn’t be curious, he couldn’t help wondering why her eyes were so filled with shadows. Or had he imagined it because he was looking through his own veil of pain?
Not his business, he reminded himself. His only business was in protecting Tommy and finding out who had killed Michael and Grace.
Caleb noticed his hands were fisted and forced himself to unclench his fingers.
Never had he felt so helpless, so powerless. That wasn’t something a Delta soldier was comfortable with. Give him an enemy to defeat, a munitions dump to take out, a rescue mission to perform, and he was your man. He knew what he was doing in the field.
Time had given him regrets. It had also forced him to accept the truth about himself. He had deserted Michael when his brother needed him the most, not because he believed he could save the world—no soldier who had served believed that after the first day of combat—but because he was good at what he did. Because he relished the challenge. Because when he did the job right, he felt good about himself.
Was that