Cody Walker's Woman. Amelia Autin

McKinnon?” Callahan asked, interrupting Keira’s memories of that night a week ago.

      “Guarding our escape route,” Cody replied. “I figured that was your four-by-four, but I didn’t want to take any chances, especially not with the gear we brought with us.”

      One corner of Callahan’s mouth twitched into a grin. “You know, Walker, for an amateur you’re not half-bad.” His tone and words were deliberate provocation, but Keira realized Cody wasn’t responding to it. He merely grinned back, the unexpected smile slashing across his face the way she remembered it doing once before.

      Callahan was speaking again, and Keira took herself sternly to task. Stop thinking about Cody and focus on why we’re here.

      “Mandy and our kids are in the cabin,” he was saying. “She’ll be relieved to see you—she’s been terrified ever since last night that something will happen I can’t handle on my own.” Keira was quick to note the way his voice softened when he mentioned his wife and children. “There’s coffee already made. Why don’t you go in and let Mandy know you’re here while I help McKinnon unload the truck?”

      Cody glanced at Keira. She read his unspoken message and turned away to call McKinnon on her Bluetooth earphone, relaying the news that Callahan was on his way there. Then she followed Cody through the muddy, semifrozen clearing toward the cabin. As they picked their way carefully, avoiding the worst of the mud, Keira asked, “Want to tell me what that was about?”

      “What?”

      “That remark about amateurs. He knows you work for the agency, so I don’t get it.”

      “Long story. I’ll tell you sometime.” He smiled at her as they mounted the porch steps. He reached for the front door and opened it without knocking.

      “Cody!” One of the most serenely beautiful women Keira had ever seen raised a relieved and thankful face from the baby nursing at her breast to greet them as they entered the one-room cabin. The woman slid something beneath her thigh before adding, “Thank God you’re here.”

      Keira felt an unexpected wave of...not envy, exactly. More like wistfulness. Not for the other woman’s classic features and all-American blonde beauty, but for the expression Keira caught on Cody’s face before he controlled it and dropped a quick kiss on the top of the other woman’s blond head. No man ever looked at you that way, a little voice said inside her head. It hurt. And that surprised her. She’d chosen her life deliberately, so it made no sense for her to now long for other things. Soft things. Man-woman things.

      Mandy had a small towel draped modestly over her breast as she nursed, and it puzzled Keira until she saw the two other children still asleep on the double bed behind her. Boys, both of them, with hair as blond as Mandy’s. That must be why she’s covered up—in case the boys wake up. The pink-and-yellow outfit on the dark-haired baby in Mandy’s arms was a dead giveaway the baby was a little girl.

      Keira could no more help assembling random bits of data into a clear picture than she could help breathing. Three children in six years, she thought, remembering what Cody had told her about Mandy and Ryan Callahan. That’s some serious commitment between them. She wondered why the knowledge lightened her mood immeasurably.

      Mandy smiled a welcome at Keira before glancing inquiringly up at Cody, who quickly introduced them. Then she adjusted the towel and deftly switched the baby to her other breast. “Sorry about this.” She indicated the nursing baby and gave Cody and Keira a rueful look that held only a trace of embarrassment. “I’ve been trying to wean Abby, but we left in such a rush last night I didn’t have time to pack any formula or baby food.” Her face turned troubled. “Did Ryan tell you what happened?”

      “Not all of it—not yet—but enough.” He moved away from Mandy’s side and headed to the kitchen area to pour himself a cup of coffee, and Keira was unaccountably glad.

      “He didn’t tell me until last night, after Steve—” She caught her breath, but went on. “We were already on the way here before he told me he called you.” Her blue eyes darkened. “I gave him hell for keeping this thing a secret from me, after he promised...” She stopped, a hurt expression on her face, and then started again. “Don’t be like him,” she begged Cody. “He can’t help being who he is—it’s the way he’s made. But you’re not like him. Don’t keep me in the dark. Not this time.”

      Cody swallowed coffee from the mug in his left hand and grimaced, and Keira wasn’t sure if it was in response to the coffee or Mandy’s statement. Then his right hand briefly touched his left shoulder, and Keira remembered Cody referring to a bullet hole, Mandy and a lack of trust. Mandy had shot Cody, and she knew it hadn’t been an accident. She only knew what Trace had told her—that Cody and Mandy had been best friends growing up, but that she’d shot him the night David Pennington had been killed, thinking she was protecting Callahan. But there was more to the story. A hell of a lot more. Keira was sure of it.