Conall depended on his instincts, developed over years of perilous undercover work. What he didn’t often do was pause to think, How do I feel about that? His stride checked briefly when he discovered he didn’t recognize what he was feeling. Something was going on inside him, but he didn’t know what. It seemed that he was okay with the idea of socializing with his brother and sister-in-law. And that was worrisome. This whole experience was like being flipped upside down and given a good hard shake. Things weren’t settling back into the right places.
Remembering the look of warning his sister-in-law had given him, he said, “I’d actually like that. I told Niall I want to meet his wife, too. And their kids.”
“We’ll do a family get-together.” Did Duncan sound as bemused as Conall felt?
Maybe.
Needing to get out of there, Conall departed after only a few more words, all polite and shallow as a coat of paint.
Where was the bone-deep anger? The resentment? The intense gratitude he’d hated most of all?
Nowhere to be found.
There was a whole mess of stuff going on inside him, but none of it was familiar. That left him unsteady, a stranger to himself. Not a sensation he liked.
* * *
LIA DIDN’T MAKE IT OUT to feed the horses until dark. The younger kids were all in bed. Having Sorrel was something of a blessing right now, as Lia trusted her enough to believe she’d respond to sounds of distress. Otherwise Lia wouldn’t be able to linger outside, as she was doing tonight.
She’d quartered an apple and brought that out, too. She loved the feel of the soft lips on her palm, the whiskers tickling her. Noses butted her chest and she laughed aloud.
Eventually she returned to the porch, where she’d probably hear any cries as she’d left the living room window open to the night air. She chose to sit on the porch with her feet on the top step, her arms wrapping her knees. She didn’t even kid herself that she was here to enjoy the solitude.
She was waiting for Special Agent Conall MacLachlan.
He wasn’t quite what she’d first thought. Although she wasn’t sure what that was. He’d both stirred something in her and scared her from first sight. She told herself she didn’t like him.
The other agent—Jeff Henderson—seemed like an okay guy. Almost too normal to be a federal agent. When she’d asked at breakfast this morning about his family, he had whipped out a photo of a blonde woman who was plain but nice-looking and two kids. The boy looked a lot like his dad, which probably meant his hairline would recede early, too. Jeff glowed with pride.
MacLachlan, though, was another story. He was…maybe not handsome, but definitely sexy. The air all but shimmered around him from a mixture of charisma and testosterone. She could see even Sorrel reacting to it, which worried Lia. That was one of the reasons she wanted to talk to him privately. The boys were another. He’d awakened their interest, which could be good for them or very, very bad.
Mostly, she wanted to know who he was. If that story he’d told at dinner was true.
When he’d first arrived, she thought he was cold. He had a tempting smile that didn’t reach his gray eyes. His expressions were fleeting and hard to read. He was an enigma, and she’d been forced to take him into her house. She didn’t see how she could prevent contact between him and the kids.
And then, what did he do at dinner but discombobulate her utterly. He’d talked to the boys as if…well, as if they were people. Not the way most adults dealt with children. He’d been kind and honest—she hoped—and known exactly the right thing to say.
Lia wanted to know how that could be. Jeff had told her his partner wasn’t married. “No kids,” he’d said, shaking his head as if baffled that a man wouldn’t want them. If Conall had the background he said he did, how did he know what Bren and Walker needed to hear?
Please, God, it wasn’t all an act designed to gain their confidence, to get them to talk to him. About her. What if he wasn’t with the Drug Enforcement Agency at all, but was really with Immigration? Or cooperating with them? She shivered and hugged her knees harder.
I’m paranoid. That’s all. Surely nobody would care all that much about what she was doing.