Cody Walker's Woman

For just a moment his thoughts turned to Keira, wondering what it would be like with her. She was so different from Mandy in so many ways. He remembered the feel of her body pressed up against his that first night. Strength. Determination. A fierce will. No, she wouldn’t make it easy for a man to take what she wouldn’t willingly give, but...if she gave willingly, a man would know he was something special.

He breathed deeply as he followed Callahan and McKinnon through the woods, taking the crisp, clean air deep into his lungs, feeling the stillness of the mountainside soak into him. Even as part of him turned inward, another part of him was alert and watchful, looking to the left and right automatically, and occasionally checking behind him. He really didn’t think they had anything to fear, not here. But nothing was certain, not where the New World Militia was concerned.

* * *

Michael Vishenko’s office phone rang, and he picked it up automatically. “Yes?”

“We have a slight problem,” the voice at the other end said.

“I see,” he said. “Thank you for calling.” He hung up and limped to the door of his office, closing it firmly. Back at his desk he pulled a cell phone from his center drawer, waited five minutes, then dialed a number. When the call was answered, he said, “What is the problem?”

“There was a small leak.”

“How small?”

“Minor. And it has been contained.”

“Collateral damage?”

“Minimal.”

“Still on goal?”

“Yes.”

Vishenko breathed deeply. “Thank you for calling,” he said and hung up. He stared at the cell phone in his hand for a minute, decoding the code words the caller had used. It was worrisome, but the caller had reassured him they were still on target. That was the most important thing.

* * *

In the cabin Keira watched Mandy in silence. When the other woman finished nursing her baby, she averted her gaze, giving Mandy a little privacy to adjust her clothing back to normal. Then, for something to say, she asked, “What are your boys’ names?”

Mandy placed the towel over her shoulder, lifted Abby onto it and began burping her. “Reilly,” she said softly, casting a backward glance at the two boys still sleeping on the bed behind her. “He’s five. Little Ryan is three.” She chuckled softly. “I have to stop calling him little Ryan. Even though they have my hair color, they both take after their father in just about every other way.”

“Reilly?” Keira asked, remembering what Cody had said. “Wasn’t that your husband’s alias, Reilly O’Neill?”

Mandy’s smile faded. “One of them,” she replied, and there was an expression on her face that told Keira this wasn’t a subject to pursue.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Keira looked around for someplace to sit down. But other than the bed and a couple of kitchen table chairs over in the corner, there wasn’t anything to sit on, so she leaned against the wall, watching the other woman in renewed silence until baby Abby fell asleep on her mother’s shoulder.

Keira wanted to dislike Mandy, this beautiful woman Cody loved. But there was just something so basically nice about her, something in the way she loved her children so unreservedly. And then there was the way she looked at Cody. Or rather, the way she didn’t look at him. Keira wasn’t blind. Cody might be in love with Mandy, but in Mandy’s eyes he was only a good friend. That was all he would ever be, and Keira felt a sense of relief.

Cody doesn’t belong to you, she chided herself mentally, but that didn’t stop how she felt. If was as if a bond had been formed between them that first night—on her part, anyway—when she’d known instinctively she could trust him with her life. The possessiveness she felt toward him was something new—and she didn’t like it.

The sudden sound of boots on the front porch made Keira reach for her Glock even though she’d been expecting to hear it at any moment. But she wasn’t taking any chances. She put a finger to her lips, motioning Mandy to silence, and moved swiftly behind the door.

Cody walked in, followed by Trace, with Callahan bringing up the rear, and Keira took her hand away from her gun. She closed the door behind the men.