“Wits and wisdom, not your heart, get you through hard times.”
“Perhaps it’s all of them—your heart and wits and wisdom.” Mrs. Renault returned to her seat. “That’s what happened when I fell in love with John.” She harrumphed softly, in the refined way only she could. “Oh, how my mind rebelled against loving that man.”
“Why?” Madison couldn’t believe it. She always seemed so sure-footed on everything.
“I was a military brat, and I vowed never to fall in love with a military man. I wanted roots.”
“But you married John anyway.”
“Yes, I did. And given the chance, I would again.”
She had been happy with him, not that anyone doubted it for a second. Such a shame he died so young. “So your heart won the battle. That’s what you’re telling me, isn’t it?”
“Wits and wisdom have their value but the heart always wins the battle. That’s what I’m telling you.”
That was not what she’d hoped to hear. “Maybe so, but I’m not giving up yet.”
Madison shut the vault, returned to her desk then sat down and stared at the fireplace filled not with wood but with strings of twinkling little lights. She said, “I don’t understand him. He listens but he doesn’t hear me.”
“That’s been the problem with men and relationships since there have been men and relationships.” Mrs. Renault cocked her head. “I take it that you’ve discussed this communication challenge with him?”
Madison expelled a hard breath. “I have. The problem is, this morning when he told me he couldn’t walk away from me, either, I was relieved. I was so afraid he would, I was almost sick inside.”
“Maybe it was being out in the cold all night.”
“No, it was him.” Madison fisted her hand. “The only other time I’ve been that scared is when I was captured.”
“Oh, my. Strong emotions.”
“Very strong emotions.” Madison slid her assistant a wistful look. “I keep praying they’ll fizzle and go away.”
“Because...?”
“I just told you. I don’t trust him.”
“But you want to,” Mrs. Renault reminded her, her eyes darting a long moment. “I have an idea. Why not give him a real chance? Take a leap of faith? That could ease some pressure on you and be telling.”
There was wisdom in the older woman’s suggestion. It would allow her to trust him—and with a safety net. The battle in her would cease...maybe. It would definitely ease up. That could make trying it worth a shot. She’d taken a small step, sharing her suspicions about what could come of Crawford and Talbot and Dayton’s desire to shift focus. She hadn’t even shared that with Mrs. Renault, who had a soft spot for the commander. For that reason alone, Madison prayed the man was innocent of killing Pace and Beth Crane.
“You’re going to the St. Valentine’s ball together tonight, right?”
Madison nodded.
“Well, one question to answer before you decide. Is your hesitation because you don’t trust him on the security breach, or because you don’t trust him with your heart?”
Madison didn’t dare answer—not even to herself.
Mrs. Renault clearly didn’t expect her to. She continued, “Either way, it’s a step forward. And it’s time you took one.”
Madison hadn’t dared to trust a man since escaping from Afghanistan. She’d wanted to, tried to, but she just couldn’t do it. At times she wondered if she’d ever trust a man again. Since one she’d put her trust in had been responsible for her capture, she couldn’t fault herself for that, though her pastor insisted that God wouldn’t approve of deeming all men responsible for the sins of one. She wasn’t trying to do that. It wasn’t them but her own judgment she doubted. Her pastor insisting she was not trusting God shocked her. Was he right?
Unsure, Madison looked at Mrs. Renault. She was right about one thing. If Madison didn’t try to step forward, change wouldn’t be possible. And maybe her pastor was right, too. Maybe she did need to trust God to put a worthy man in her path.
Grant’s image filled Madison’s mind—the promise of what could be. Foolish or wise, she didn’t know, but this proposal was for one night. She could leap that far, to trust and give him a real chance.
“All right,” she told Mrs. Renault. “I’ll try.”
What could it hurt?
Me. Madison swallowed hard. God, help me. I’m leaping. Please don’t let me regret it.
* * *
A brash young lieutenant with a red nose, bruised knuckles and a name tag that read Blake escorted Grant into the commander’s windowless inner sanctum.
Commander Talbot sat behind his gleaming desk. Vice Commander Dayton perched on the left of two deep blue leather visitor’s chairs. Grant saluted.
“Major Deaver.” Talbot returned the salute. “Come in.”
Not invited to sit, Grant stood at ease before the desk. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes.” The commander leaned back in his chair, his thinning pate catching the light from the overhead. “How are things going at Lost, Inc.?”
“They’re tense, sir.” Dayton hadn’t said a word. He looked almost bored, though Grant had been in Intel too long to be fooled by that facade. The man wasn’t missing a thing. Dressed in combat gear instead of his blues—why? Everyone Grant had come across, from the gate guards to headquarters’ security, had been dressed in blues or their regular uniforms today.
“Tense?” The commander stopped rocking his chair.
“Yes, sir.” Grant debated over his approach, and decided Talbot had always been reasonable, so he’d just talk straight. “Madison McKay still doesn’t trust me.”
Dayton guffawed. “Lost your touch with the ladies, eh?”
Caustic, but Grant didn’t take it personally. Dayton had made it an art form. “She’s a former operative,” Grant said. “She knows the tactics. You either come at her from a genuine place, or you don’t get near her at all.”
Talbot rubbed at his jaw. “Madison has always had good instincts. They made her an excellent analyst and operative.”
“Working with Renée Renault has sharpened them,” Dayton said. “You can bank on that.”
“Renée is gifted.” Talbot drummed his fingers on his desktop and sighed. “Sorry we lost Madison. I hoped she’d change her mind and rejoin us after being home for a while.”
Grant had never heard such respect in Dayton’s tone as when he’d spoken of Mrs. Renault, and never had anyone other than Commander Talbot called her by her first name. No doubt her military family missed her. But the remark about Madison irked Grant. If they hadn’t sacrificed her, maybe they wouldn’t have lost her, but the bottom line was Grant didn’t want to repeat the mistake and lose her, and the longer this deception went on, the greater the odds were that he would.
Determined to try to do something about that, he shifted the conversation to a place he was more than eager to go. “Crawford accepted responsibility for the security breach. The case is closed.” No reaction, so he went on. “How much longer do I have to stay at Lost, Inc., and—?”
Talbot frowned. “Indefinitely.”
Grant’s heart sank. His stomach knotted. “May I ask why, sir?”
Dayton piped up. “If the commander wanted you to know, he’d tell you. You have your orders,