A Texas Child. Linda Warren

that and this trip will go smoothly.”

      “You know what you did was illegal.” Why she was pointing that out, she wasn’t sure. Maybe just to annoy him, like he was trying so hard to annoy her.

      He lifted a dark eyebrow. “In the next few days, we’ll be doing a lot of illegal stuff. Are you prepared for that, counselor?”

      “Whatever it takes.”

      “Mmm.”

      Nothing was said for a few minutes as he worked on the iPad. She watched as he was totally focused on the computer. In the old days, he’d grasped things quickly and his memory was phenomenal. She was sure that hadn’t changed. He paid great attention to detail. It drove her crazy sometimes when he could tell her exactly what she wore on a certain day and with what earrings or high heels. And yet the same man had trouble matching up his socks. She would bet that the socks he had on now were mismatched. It was a Levi trademark.

      She remembered so many things about him. His gentle touch when she was down about something. His kind heart and concern for everyone. When he loved, there was no holding back. He gave all of himself and there was never any doubt that he loved her. She had failed their relationship.

      Her eyes were drawn to the black T-shirt molded to the muscles in his arms and across his chest. As he worked the keypad, his forearms rippled, reminding her of everything she’d lost. And of everything she could never get back—mainly his trust.

      “We’ll leave early in the morning.” His words broke through her thoughts. “And try to make it to Brownsville by noon. Do you have a passport?”

      “Yes.”

      “I have Daniel’s so we’re set to go.”

      She frowned. “How did you get Daniel’s?”

      “On my way back, I called Stu and he sent someone to Natalie’s apartment for the boy’s birth certificate and a photo. When I arrived at the home, I faxed the items to a name Stu gave me and I picked up the passport on the way here.”

      “You’ve thought of everything.”

      “For us to succeed, I have to.”

      He reached into the backpack and pulled out a laptop and a phone. “This is a cheap phone you can use while we’re in Mexico. Put all the numbers on it you’ll need. Leave your expensive one here.”

      “Okay.” She took the phone, very impressed with his thoroughness.

      “I have to take mine, but I have all my information stored in case I lose it. I’ll leave my laptop under your sofa.”

      “Sure.”

      “Do you have some old clothes?”

      She jumped up. “I just bought some clothes to wear.” She ran upstairs to her bedroom and came back with what she’d purchased.

      He stared at the clothes in her hands. “Camouflage? This is not a military mission. We want to appear incognito and that means we have to blend in. We’ll stop at a thrift store and get you something.”

      “Thrift store?”

      “Yeah, Myra. Preferably something old and grungy.”

      She wasn’t going to argue because he knew what he was doing. She held up the boots. “How about these?”

      “They’ll do, but we’ll have to make them look worn and old.”

      “If you say so,” she replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

      “Try to get some rest. I’ll wake you about four-thirty.”

      “You say that as if you’re staying here tonight.”

      “I am,” he replied without even looking up.

      “I just have one bedroom. The other bedroom I converted into an office.”

      He looked up at that. “Believe me, Myra, I can restrain myself. I lost those feelings for you a long time ago.” He patted the sofa he was on. “I’ll sleep here. Good God, is this white?”

      “Yes, white leather.” Levi’s concentration was phenomenal, too. He could totally shut out the world when he was focused on something.

      He glanced around and she knew he’d cataloged the entire room in that one glance. His eyes settled on the white area rug covering part of the hardwood floor.

      “Everything in here is white.”

      “And silver and black,” she quipped.

      “I noticed.”

      She laid the clothes and boots in a chair. “That reminds me. How did you get in here? This is a secure complex.”

      He went back to the iPad. “No building is secure. If someone wants in, they’ll find a way to get in.”

      “How did you do it?”

      “I waited until someone was allowed in and then zipped my truck right in behind them. Easy as eating pie with both hands.”

      “No one noticed?”

      “It’s dark and I’m very fast. C’mon, Myra, stop grilling me. I have more important things on my mind.”

      “What are you doing on the computer?”

      “Don’t ask questions, either.”

      She threw up her hands. “If I have to get up at four-thirty, I’m going to bed.”

      “Do you have a sheet or a blanket I can put on the couch? I’d hate to drool on this white thing.”

      “You don’t drool.” That came out of her mouth without thinking. She didn’t know how he slept these days. But in the old days, he’d slept sound, quiet and beautifully.

      “That was seven years ago. I’ve changed.”

      She lifted an eyebrow, but decided not to voice her thoughts. She needed his help and she wasn’t going to complicate things. Or at least she was trying not to. She went to a hall closet and pulled out a blanket and a sheet and carried them back to him.

      He stared at them. “White? What is it with you and white now?”

      “I like white. What’s wrong with that?”

      “Nothing if you’re superhuman. A child could have a field day messing up this place.”

      “I don’t have a child.”

      “Yeah.”

      Suddenly the room was full of palpable tension. She felt it. He felt it. They both chose to ignore it.

      “I’m going to bed.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Thank you. I’m glad you changed your mind.”

      “Do you have anything to eat?” he asked, completely ignoring her thanks.

      Another thing about Levi—he had a killer appetite. “Um, I have some yogurt and fruit. There’s ice cream and frozen dinners in the freezer.”

      “That’s it?”

      “I’m not here that much.”

      “Oh, yeah, I forgot about your long hours.” He stood and marched into the kitchen, opening her refrigerator. With yogurt and an apple in his hand, he opened the freezer and pulled out a TV dinner. Looking around, he said, “I’m not sure where to eat in here.”

      “There are bar stools on the island,” she said, pointing to the white-and-chrome stools. “And there’s also a table. Are you unfamiliar with these things?”

      “I don’t want to get anything dirty.”

      “I’m going to bed. You figure it out.” She left him with his dilemma. One would think he’d never been in a nice place before, but she knew