Chapter 13
Mark gathered her in his arms, again, when Emily tumbled off her horse.
Doug took Chesapeake by the reins and led her away as Mark carried her inside.
“Don’t let the girls see me like this.”
He didn’t hesitate as he carried her upstairs, undressed her, and tucked her into bed wearing her favorite nightgown—the thick flannel one covered with red cardinals and chickadees perched on pine boughs. When he went to leave, she kept a hold of his hand.
Mark kissed her, then settled one hip on the bed. “That bad?”
She nodded. “I yelled at Dilya. Swore at her.”
“Hey, you don’t even do that for me.” Her beautiful man managed to sound jealous, which almost made her smile—almost. Too bad she felt so awful.
“I left her on the high plain. Make sure she doesn’t leave. She needs help.”
“Any chance of me finding out what’s happening this time?”
Emily was exhausted enough to tell him despite him not being cleared for it.
She could see by his eyes that he knew most of it, except the hard specifics and the most recent events.
Their tiny team had been assembled to protect the institution of the government itself—identifying and blocking direct attacks against the highest levels of the executive branch.
Their primary tasking was providing imminent-threat analyses to the Secret Service protection details embedded in and near the White House, without ever identifying themselves.
Mark nodded when she was done. “Hadn’t connected a couple of those to you, but I should have. I thought Dilya was at the center of what you people do in that room.”
“She’s a part of it. Yet she isn’t. Miss Watson was until last year.
But she isn’t. I don’t know anymore. I’d long since handed off my part before I got the bump to command the Night Stalkers.
The other three handle it.” Again, no need to explain which three.
“Dilya said Miss Watson was taken. She’s probably one of the greatest security assets the country has.
Her knowledge about everything from the CIA to the White House to—” the words threatened to choke her “—to our ranch. If she spills one wrong word… You… The girls…”
Mark silenced her with a finger on her lips, then gathered her into a hug to silence her fears.
It did.
Or else the three days without sleep caught up with her.
Whichever it was, Mark’s hug was the last thing she remembered.