Rock-A-Bye Rescue. Karen Whiddon

be honest with me? Can you do that?” She opened her eyes again to read his reaction to her boldness.

      He hesitated, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Honesty, huh?”

      “Is that a difficult concept for you?” She tried to keep a stern tone, letting him know she wouldn’t be trifled with, but her voice cracked when she met the mesmerizing heat in his eyes.

      “Okay, how’s this for honesty? I’ve had a thing for you since I was fifteen. I’ve always thought you were beautiful. Sexy. Intriguing.” His hand skimmed her cheek, and he leaned in for a kiss. “I wanted you back then, but I knew you were a good girl. I figured you wouldn’t want someone with my reputation, so I never asked you out. That’s my regret, and I don’t want to repeat it.”

      She turned her cheek to him, struggling for a steady breath and her reasoning powers. “As I recall—” she had to pause and clear her throat “—you did try to kiss me at the Fourth of July fireworks...” She cut a quick glance up at him, catching his dark gaze. “The summer before our senior year of high school.”

      “As I recall—” Dean pitched his voice to a low, sultry whisper and slid an arm around her waist “—I didn’t just try to kiss you. I succeeded. And you kissed me back. More than once.” He leaned in, catching her lips again, then moved his mouth down the line of her jaw and nibbled his way toward her earlobe.

      As much as her teenaged self had wanted to drape her arms around his neck and savor the caress of his kisses, her adult self reminded her wavering heart of his reputation. The pain of Carl’s betrayal was too fresh, her resolve not to repeat her past mistakes too firm to throw caution aside. Even if she knew a few moments of passion with Dean would be bliss. Her traitorous body buzzed with anticipation and pleasure. Fortunately, her head still worked. Planting her hands on his chest—dear heavens, he was solid and taut with muscle!—she rallied enough composure to push him away. “Don’t.”

      Dean lowered his hands and gave his head a quick shake. “Okay. I’ll respect your wishes, for now, but... I had to give it a shot. I didn’t want to live with the regret of letting a second chance with you slip past untried.”

      Lila finger-combed her hair away from her eyes as she walked slowly over to her palette, her head spinning. Eve, a gunman, Dean, an ice storm. Any one of those was enough to process in a day, but all of them at once?

      Chloe sat by the sliding glass door to her screened porch, pleading with sad eyes and a soft meow to be let out. Spring through autumn, the porch was a favorite hangout for her cat, but Chloe couldn’t get it through her head that it was too cold to go out in winter. Being in no mood to play the in-and-out and in-and-out-again game with her cat, Lila did her best to ignore Chloe’s beseeching expression.

      “It’s not that I’m unwilling to try, Dean—” she cast him a glance for understanding, not unlike the one Chloe was giving her “—but I need to be sure about you before I take a leap that could get me hurt. You’ve only been back in my life a few hours. And while the physical chemistry may have been reignited on sight, we have eleven years of getting reacquainted to consider.”

      “I get that.” He slipped his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I can give you time. My plan is to be at my parents’ cabin for the next couple of months. I have a seasonal job lined up with a friend starting in April. But until then...we have time to get to know each other again.”

      “Once this killer is caught. And Eve goes to her biological family...”

      He inhaled deeply and nodded. “Right. The Pittses will be caught, Lila. There’s a huge manhunt for them. It’s just a matter of time.”

      The question was—would the Pitts brothers be caught before or after they reached her cabin, and she had to fight for Eve’s life? Biting her bottom lip, she paced a bit more. She stopped at her easel and lifted the paintbrush she’d been using when she’d received the call about Eve. She’d been so crazily distracted since then, she’d allowed the paint to dry on the brush. She’d have to throw that brush away. And she’d wasted a good amount of expensive paint, which was now caked on her palette as well.

      Whatever. She had bigger problems to deal with...

      No sooner had the thought entered her mind than a plaintive wail came from the nursery, loud enough that the baby monitor was overkill.

      “That nap didn’t last long,” Dean said as he followed her into the nursery.

      “No, it didn’t. Poor thing. I know she’s hurting...and scared without her mother.” When Lila stroked Eve’s head to soothe her, she found the baby’s skin unusually warm. “Oh, no.”

      “What?” Dean stepped closer to peer over her shoulder.

      “I think she’s running a fever.”

      * * *

      Pulling to a stop along the isolated mountain road, Wayne consulted the GPS unit mounted on the dash of the SUV he’d stolen. According to the device, he was almost to the house where the police had taken Eve. A secluded mountain cabin. He grunted smugly. Nice try, Enemy, but he’d found the place. He wondered briefly how Kent was doing locating Caleb.

      Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

      Rather than give away his approach, give the foster family time to hide Eve or arm themselves, he cut the engine of the old SUV and climbed out to walk the last quarter mile or so to the driveway. The wind and pelting ice were as cold as a witch’s soul, but Kent wouldn’t take any excuses for not doing the job right. Precaution, planning...he wouldn’t let his big brother down.

      As he neared the driveway, the rumble of tires on the slick mountain highway warned him of a car’s approach. He left the road, sneaking into the line of trees in time to see a local police squad car ease past. The cop craned his neck, eyeing the woods where Wayne stood behind a tree, then stopped and opened his driver’s side door. “Hey, you there! Come out with your hands up then lie face down on the ground!”

      Wayne’s heartbeat increased three-fold. He would not—could not—be caught now and sent away. The cop could shoot him in the back for all he cared—he’d rather rot in a grave than in a cell—but not before he finished the mission Kent had sent him on.

      He put a hand on the gun tucked in the waist of his pants, the Glock .40 he’d lifted from the injured US marshal. Then, stepping from the trees as directed, he raised the gun and fired.

      The cop quickly ducked back into the protection of his squad car and drew his sidearm. Wayne hurried forward, trying to get off the fatal shot before the cop could return fire. But a powerful blow and a sharp, burning sting in his thigh knocked him down before he could make it ten steps.

      With The Sword I will fight for my right to live free, seek The Truth and defend myself from The Enemy. The mantra Kent had drilled into him over the past thirteen years gave him the courage and the energy to block out the pain and fight on. The cop was an obstacle to completing his mission, and he knew how to deal with an obstacle. Eliminate it.

      * * *

      Dean reached around Lila, his body pressing against her back, and he laid his hand on the infant’s forehead. “Yeah, she is warm. You have a thermometer?”

      Lila nodded. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried to the bathroom and pulled out of the cabinet a basket of supplies she kept on hand for her foster babies. She checked the expiration date on the bottle of liquid acetaminophen and dug out the baby thermometer. Returning to the nursery, she handed the medicine to Dean and uncapped the protective cover on the thermometer.

      “What the hell is that?” Dean asked.

      “What do you think?” She bumped him out of the way with her hip and gently placed the tip in Eve’s ear. A second later, the device beeped and she checked the reading. “One hundred point one.”

      Dean took the thermometer from her and gave it a once-over. “What happened to the old-fashioned glass stick put under your tongue?”

      She