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Camouflage Cowboy
Jan Hambright
A single mother with a sick child was not something Agent Nick Cavanaugh was prepared to face. Unfortunately, his very special assignment included finding the woman and protecting her from learning the truth about his client and the vultures about to descend on her privacy.With no choice but to stick by Grace Marshall until all threats were neutralized, it took one little boy and his need for a cure no time at all to work their way into Nick's heart. Peeling back Grace's layers, Nick uncovers a mysterious past, and also a passion that stirs his soul and inflames his desire. As he struggles between what is dutiful and what is right, a killer unexpectedly makes his move.…
“I want you and Caleb to stay for as long as it takes.”
Grace stared at him, feeling the heat in his touch as it pulsed along her arm in an intimate connection she could feel growing between them.
“I’ll find a way to neutralize the creep stalking you.” There was absolute seriousness in the set of Nick’s mouth and the slight narrowing of his intense blue eyes.
A blade of fear knifed through her. “Be careful, Nick. He’s got friends with badges who don’t seem to mind helping him. He’s been able to trace me everywhere I’ve been for the past three years.”
“That’s when you ran?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he, Grace?”
Her emotions locked up, strangled with tension that wound tight like a cord inside of her. The whole truth could drive Nick away when she needed his help the most, but she couldn’t live with herself if she let him walk into a trap because he hadn’t been forewarned.
“He’s my ex-brother-in-law.”
“Your ex-husband’s brother?”
“My dead husband’s brother.”
Camouflage Cowboy
Jan Hambright
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jan Hambright penned her first novel at seventeen, but claims it was pure rubbish. However, it did open the door on her love for storytelling. Born in Idaho, she resides there with her husband, three of their five children, a three-legged watchdog and a spoiled horse named Texas, who always has time to listen to her next story idea while they gallop along.
A self-described adrenaline junkie, Jan spent ten years as a volunteer EMT in rural Idaho, and jumped out of an airplane at ten thousand feet attached to a man with a parachute, just to celebrate turning forty. Now she hopes to make your adrenaline level rise along with that of her danger-seeking characters. She would like to hear from her readers and hopes you enjoy the story world she has created for you. Jan can be reached at P.O. Box 2537, McCall, Idaho 83638.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Nick Cavanaugh—A former army ranger and member of Corps Security and Investigations, Nick is grateful for the second chance he has been given by CSaI founder Bart Bellows. But the object of his special assignment, Grace Marshall, could prove to be his toughest mission yet.
Grace Marshall—Given up for adoption as an infant, Grace is now desperate to find her birth mother in order to save her ill son’s life via a bone marrow transplant. Can she locate the woman before time runs out for her little boy, Caleb, and before a maniac from her past threatens both of their lives?
Caleb Marshall—Four-year-old Caleb was born with aplastic anemia. He needs a donor, but his rare blood type has narrowed his chances of finding a suitable match. Can one be found in time?
Wes Bradley—The soldier was reported killed in Iraq by an IED, but his name has surfaced in connection with some of the attacks against Governor Lila Lockhart. Could he still be alive?
Rodney Marshall—Bent on vengeance, he’s determined to make Grace Marshall pay for what she did.
Governor Lila Lockhart—Texas loves her, but a scandal from her past could destroy her chance of ever becoming the president of the United States. Only Nick Cavanaugh, her hand-picked CSaI agent, stands between the discovery of that truth and the highest office in the land.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
Nick Cavanaugh rose from one of the park benches perched on the perimeter of Freedom’s town square, checked the traffic in both directions and jaywalked across Main Street, careful to keep his pace nonchalant.
Anticipation skated over his nerves, etching certainty into his brain. He’d learned it hard and solid on the battlefields of Iraq: stay one step ahead of your enemies, or two steps back for a clear shot.
His heart rate notched up.
The door of Potter’s Drugstore swept open just as Nick made the curb half a block to the east.
Funny. His target didn’t look like much of a threat. The observation gelled in his brain as he watched her step out into the early afternoon sunlight. She casually looped her arm in her purse strap and deposited it on her shoulder. She turned to her right and moved along the sidewalk, her blond ponytail swaying back and forth between her shoulder blades as she moved away from him.
Nick increased his rate of follow, backing off only when she paused in front of the Talk of the Town Café to study something in the window before proceeding due north again.
He knew her beat-up silver Toyota Camry was sucked up next to the curb half a block away.
Tension braided his muscles into a knot. Had he pegged her correctly? Or was he headed for an ambush? He wrestled the questions to the back of his mind and looked at his watch. C’mon, c’mon, he thought. He had to get to Grace Marshall now. Another minute and she’d make it to her car and escape.
Focused on her alone, he narrowed the distance.
On his left, a man wearing a black hoodie, black sweatpants and running shoes brushed past him and broke into a sprint.
Time slowed as Nick listened to the jogger’s pounding footsteps echo off the sidewalk and ping against the brick-and-mortar storefronts that lined the quaint main street of Freedom, Texas.
Grace Marshall’s high-pitched shriek slammed against his eardrums. The man in the black hoodie and Grace were engaged in a tug of war over the purse.
“Hey! Leave her alone!” Nick took aim at the would-be purse-snatcher and charged.
Stressed, the metal ring anchoring the strap to the purse broke.
Grace still clutched the handbag, but the force of the sudden release sent the bag flopping across the sidewalk as the strap slipped through the purse-snatcher’s fingers.
He took off down the street at a dead run and vanished around the corner at 4th and Main.
Car keys, pill bottles, a hairbrush and a wallet were scattered across the sidewalk next to her. She went to her knees on the concrete.
Nick shuffled to a stop and knelt beside her.
“I saw what happened. Are you okay?”
She turned wide blue eyes on him for a second before reaching for the contents of her purse. “Yeah.”
He reached out and picked up one of the prescription pill bottles, glanced at the name on it, then handed it to her. “I’ll call the police. I got a good look at him. I think I can give them a description—”
“No! I mean…” Grace tried to force the lump in her throat to go down, but it wouldn’t budge. The last thing she needed was local law enforcement poking around in her business. “I still have my purse and its contents. There’s no reason to involve the police. He’s probably halfway to the next county by now.” She shoved the last item into her handbag and pulled the zipper closed before staring eye to eye with the handsome stranger who’d come to her rescue.
His irises were electric blue, his stare leveled on her with pulse-zapping heat that made her cheeks light up. “But thank you for offering. I’m not sure I could have held on much longer. If you hadn’t spooked him, he might have gotten away with this.” She squeezed the brown leather bag she gripped like a lifeline and realized her hands were shaking uncontrollably. “Oh. I don’t feel so good.”
Concern crossed his features and settled around his mouth in the granite-hard line of his lips. She was suddenly sure this man, if asked, could and would trail the thug to hell and back.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside somewhere.” He stood up and helped her stand by putting his arm around her waist. Pulling free from him wasn’t as option, she realized as her stomach roiled, roiled again and settled down with several deep gulps of air.
Perhaps she should have eaten breakfast…or lunch for that matter, but her son Caleb’s treatment days were always like this. Next time she’d be sure to put a banana or something in her purse.
“I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” Her declaration seemed to fall on deaf ears as he steered her toward the door of the café.
“You’re suffering from mild shock. It’ll pass in the time it takes you to let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
She couldn’t argue with his assessment. Her knees trembled, her feet tingled, and if his strong arm weren’t wrapped tightly around her waist, she wasn’t sure she’d be standing right now. She had half an hour before she had to pick Caleb up, and Holy Cross Hospital was only ten minutes away. She could make it in plenty of time.
“You’re right. I suppose the surprise of almost having my arm jerked off by a stranger is a good reason to sit down for a minute.”
“I knew you’d see it my way.” He chuckled deep in his throat, a soothing male sound that made her smile as he reached out with his free hand and pulled open the door to Talk of the Town Café.
She stepped inside, absorbing its cool retro 1950s interior, complete with red-and-white upholstered booth seats, and a black-and-white checkerboard tile floor. It was a novelty she could get used to—if the Help Wanted sign in the window managed to come down after she applied for the job. And maybe, if she were lucky, the man with his arm around her would come in every once in a while so she could buy him a cup of coffee as thanks.
Nick zeroed in on a booth in the rear of the establishment, away from the noise of the regular afternoon crowd.
This was his orchestrated break in his assignment, and he didn’t plan to waste an iota of it. He might not get another chance at a one-on-one conversation with the target of his investigation.
The café’s owner, Faith Scott, waved to him from behind the counter and raised the steaming coffeepot in her hand.
He nodded and grudgingly let go of Grace to help her into the booth’s seat before taking a spot across from her with his back to the room.
“Coffee?” Faith had already turned their cups upright in their saucers before Nick realized he was staring at the woman sitting across from him.
“Yes. Please. And for you?”
“Just water, no ice,” Grace said. “I’m not sure my nerves could handle a shot of caffeine right now.”
He watched a tentative smile curve her full lips as she considered him through eyes tinted a shade-of-heaven blue. This wasn’t the army way of conducting an interrogation, but he couldn’t help enjoying the view.
“Would you like a piece of pie? I just took a cinnamon-apple-crumb out of the oven ten minutes ago,” Faith said from next to their table.
Nick broke eye contact with Grace Marshall and immediately felt his blood pressure drop a fraction. “Not for me, but maybe…” He glanced back at Grace, anxious to prompt her response. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Grace.”
“Maybe Grace would like a piece.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ve got to run in a few minutes.”
“I’ll get your water.” Faith turned and headed for the counter, leaving them alone in silence.
Reaching across the table, he extended his hand to her. “I’m Nick Cavanaugh.” The moment she put her delicate palm into his, a jolt radiated through him. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around Freedom before.”
Her gaze dropped for an instant. “I spend most of my time at home, or at work.”
He released his grasp and leaned back into the booth seat just as Faith put a glass of water in front of Grace.
“Thanks,” she whispered, locking her fingers around it for an instant before raising it to her mouth and taking several deep swallows.
Nick sensed her caution, saw it in the way her nails blanched against the glass in her hand as she lowered it to the table.
Trust. He needed to establish a level of trust between them, and fast. He was losing her with every tick of the second hand on his watch, and for some reason, that mattered to him.
Rocking slightly to the left, he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I know you’ve got to leave soon, but I want you to have this just in case you need to contact me.” He opened his billfold and pulled out a Corps Security and Investigations card with his name and cell number on it.
“If you change your mind and want me to describe the purse-snatcher to the police, just give me a call at this number.” He slid the card across the table to her.
She picked it up and stared at it for a moment before nonchalantly putting it in her sweater pocket. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I’m fine. I have my purse, and its contents. It might be better if we drop the matter entirely.”
