Ryan protested, jerking against the brightly colored sides of his playpen.
“I don’t like the idea of you going out to that place, Sabrina,” Mrs. Cartwright said softly, her aged voice as heavy with worry as her faded blue eyes. “I’ve heard some pretty disturbing rumors about what they’re doing out there.”
Sabrina folded her arms over her middle and turned away from the concerned gaze that studied her too closely. She’d known Mrs. Cartwright forever, and she trusted her completely. “I don’t know what else to do. They’ve offered to let me help with home schooling some of the younger children.” She shrugged. “It’s just for a couple of hours a day.”
The older woman moved to her side and ruffled Ryan’s hair as Sabrina had only moments ago. He babbled his approval at the attention. “But you already work too hard,” Mrs. Cartwright argued. “You don’t need another job.” She shook her head and gazed up at Sabrina. “Especially not at that place and one that doesn’t pay. You should be with your son.”
A weary sigh slipped past Sabrina’s lips. How could she explain that she didn’t have a choice in the matter? “It’s the only way I have of keeping an eye on Charlie. He won’t listen to anything I say anymore.”
“He’s a good boy, Sabrina,” Mrs. Cartwright protested. “He’s just missing a father figure in his life. He’ll come around.”
Sabrina scrubbed a hand over her face and blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. “I know. But, God, couldn’t he have looked anywhere but to Neely?” She prayed that her elderly friend was right and that Charlie would come around…soon.
“Lots of folks considerably older than Charlie are following the man.” Mrs. Cartwright sighed, the effort heaving from her thin chest. “Joshua Neely seems to have what they’re looking for, as frightening as that sounds.”
Instantly, Court sprang to Sabrina’s mind. How could he fall for a guy like Neely? It just didn’t make sense to her, no matter what his excuse. Sabrina had a sneaking suspicion that Court wasn’t being completely honest with her. How could he just up and walk away from the FBI? He had been in love with the whole damned super-agent mystique. He sure hadn’t been in love with her. She suppressed the old hurt that accompanied that thought.
Her gaze drifted down to Ryan. Having given up on his mommy rescuing him from his red-and-blue prison, he now sat playing with his spongy stacking blocks. Court may have broken her heart, but he had given her the one thing that got her through each day—her son. His birth had coincided with the realization that hard financial times were ahead, not to mention Charlie’s plunge into adolescence and his subsequent rebellious behavior.
Ryan made life bearable. She would protect him from the hurtful games adults played. No one—not even Court—would hurt her son. Sabrina would see to that.
“I have to get going.” Sabrina bent down and dropped a kiss on her baby’s sweet head. She forced a smile for her elderly friend. “I’ll be back around lunchtime.”
Mrs. Cartwright followed Sabrina to the door. “Be careful, Sabrina.” She smoothed a hand over the tight bun she’d twisted her gray tresses into. “I worry about you, you know.”
Taller than most women, Sabrina leaned down and gave Mrs. Cartwright a quick hug. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, I’m tougher than I look. Just take good care of my little boy.” Besides, Sabrina didn’t add, with her long legs she could probably outrun most of the men she knew—Joshua Neely and his cohorts included.
Mrs. Cartwright waved goodbye from the door as Sabrina backed away from the house. She drove to the end of the dirt road that served as a driveway to the Cartwright place and then pointed her old truck in the direction of the militia compound. Sabrina glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. How long had it been since she had bothered with makeup? Two years, an impatient voice reminded her.
“You’re pathetic, Korbett,” she accused.
Not only had she dabbed on a touch of makeup, she’d taken the time to French-braid her hair. A haphazard ponytail was her usual hairdo. Sabrina huffed her disgust. To make matters worse she had scrounged around until she found her best pair of jeans and her one almost-new blouse she saved for wearing to Ryan’s pediatrician appointments.
She scowled at the road before her. So what was wrong with wanting to look her best? After all, she was going to a job of sorts. There would be other women there who would probably be dressed similarly. Just because she took a little more care than usual today didn’t mean she’d done it for Court.
“Yeah, right,” she muttered.
Truly pathetic.
Sabrina braked to a stop in front of the gate leading to the compound. She kept her gaze straight ahead as the armed guard—Jed Markham, a man she had known her entire life—inspected her truck inside and out. She clenched her teeth at the fury that unfurled inside her. A twelve-foot-high chain-link fence, topped with concertina wire, protected the compound from intruders. Four manned observation towers stood in strategic locations. The place looked like a military base prepared for war. The hard-core followers, like the one circling her old truck now, even wore military garb.
Jed waved an arm and the gate slowly opened in front of her. “You can pass,” he barked.
“Didn’t find anything suspicious, huh?” Sabrina asked, baiting him sweetly, with a matching sugary smile. “I guess I hid that bomb better than I thought.”
Jed simply glared at her as he worked the wad of tobacco in his mouth until he could spit.
Sabrina rolled her eyes and drove on through the gate. She parked near the meeting hall, which also held the two classrooms, and climbed out into the brisk morning air. Fall was right around the corner. Then winter would be here before she knew it. She dreaded the bad weather to come. If Charlie didn’t come back home to help her—she would not think that way. She would win him back…somehow. She had to make him see that men like Neely were only taking advantage of the good intentions of the people here. She just hoped she wouldn’t be too late.
“Morning, Sabrina,” Lorie Beecham called out as Sabrina made her way into the classroom. “We’re sure glad to have you. We’ve got two new students this morning.”
Sabrina surveyed the dozen or so children in the room. How could people bring their innocent children to a place like this? She resisted the urge to shiver. Someone had to stop Neely before something bad happened.
But who?
Her thoughts went automatically to Court. She forced his image from her mind. She had to remember that he was a part of this now….
He was one of them.
COURT APPRAISED Joshua Neely’s office as he waited for the man to show up for their scheduled meeting. The young man who served as Neely’s personal assistant or secretary of sorts had insisted that Court have a seat and wait since Neely was expected back momentarily. But Court didn’t want to sit. Instead, he paced, surveying Neely’s framed mementos.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined one wall. Law books filled most of the shelves. According to the intelligence Court had on Neely, the man held a degree in political science as well as law. The office furnishings were an odd blend of typical middle-management style and more elegant oak pieces probably donated by enamored followers. The only disturbing elements were the newspaper clippings of high profile cases between other militia groups and the federal authorities, framed and hanging on nearly every available inch of wall space. Then there were the banners proclaiming Neely’s position on the law of the land. True Freedom Lies in the Heart of the Sons and Daughters of this Great Land. We Shall End the Oppression.
Court caught himself before he shook his head. Between the rally and a mostly sleepless night in the barracks with a group of particularly fervent followers, he was edgy this morning. Two weeks of hanging out at the Watering Hole, a