Chapter 5
FIVE
Arden Volker McGuire’s last spring cleaning chore of the day was dusting the great room.
After seeing her client Edith first thing in the morning, she’d changed into her grubbies and started scrubbing down the kitchen cabinets and counters and cleaning out the refrigerator.
Once that was done, dusting let her wind down and daydream.
The breeze coming through the patio doors brought in the scents from the awakening woods—evergreens, much-needed rain, the bed of sweet-smelling hyacinths blooming right off the patio.
Arden dusted the wooden mantel on the stone fireplace, working her way toward the center where Sean’s photograph held its usual place of honor.
She’d put it back the morning after Kyle came back from Los Angeles to propose to her.
She could look at Sean’s photo and smile softly, remembering their childhood, and even the last letter he’d written before his final mission that let her know he was sorry about their fight.
She paused with the dust cloth and looked at Sean. Dress uniform, those familiar silver-gray eyes steady and proud, the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth like he held a secret joke he was waiting to tell.
You always were a smartass.
“Miss you,” she told him. “Every single day.”
Something fell in the room behind her.
Arden didn’t startle. She glanced over her shoulder at no one—just the empty great room, early-afternoon light coming in warm and golden through the windows.
From his dog bed near the hearth, Camo lifted his black-and-gold head and looked in the same direction, ears pricked, then settled back down with a satisfied huff.
That’s when Arden noticed a slew of greeting cards that had been sitting on a table were now scattered across the floor.
“Afternoon, Nancy,” Arden said mildly, and went back to her dusting.
Nancy Satin Holliday, Arden’s great-great-great-grandmother, had been making her ghostly presence known since the first hard frost, which was right on schedule as far as Arden was concerned.
Nancy had always been more active in the cold months.
She’d been a restless—as well as scandalous—woman in life and her restlessness didn’t go away just because she was dead.
Arden found the idea, whether it was true or not, more comforting than unsettling.
She liked the idea that Nancy still watched over the ranch and her descendants.
So, even if it was only the breeze that had knocked down the cards, Arden acknowledged her alleged cattle-rustling granny anyway.
Arden wiped the dust cloth toward the far edge of the mantel and glanced idly to her right, out through the wall of glass toward the back deck.
A red-tailed hawk sat on the back of one of the patio chairs, watching her. Its head was cocked slightly to one side with an air of calm assessment, as if it had knocked on the door and was waiting politely to be let in.
Arden lowered the dust cloth.
If you happen to see a hawk, wave. Because that’s me. Sean had written those words in his final letter to her.
She felt her lips curve up before she’d even decided to smile.
“Hey, you,” she said softly. She lifted her hand and waved.
Then she heard the front door open.
Camo was on his feet, tail already wagging as he trotted toward the hall. He looked over his shoulder as if to say, Come on, Mom, Dad’s home. Arden turned away from the glass.
“Hey, California.” She took a step toward the hallway, dust cloth still in hand. “You’re home early. Come quick and look at this hawk on the…”
When she saw the look on Kyle’s face, she stopped.
Her husband stood in the mouth of the hallway leading from the front door to the kitchen and great room, Camo pushing a greeting against his hand. His jaw was set, ice-blue eyes serious.
She turned back to the glass doors.
The hawk was gone.
Arden looked back at Kyle. “What’s wrong?” She covered her heart.
Kyle crossed the room to her and gently wrapped his hands around her upper arms. “Baby, I need you to come with me.”
“What’s happened? Who’s hurt?” In her husband’s line of business that could mean anyone, or a number of people. It could mean someone was after all of them.
“No one’s hurt, baby.” Kyle shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry, I’m going about this the wrong way. Maybe you should sit down—”
“Kyle, please stop treating me like I’m made of glass. Just tell me what’s happening.” Her mind flashed to the hawk she’d just seen on the deck, staring in at her.
He blew out a breath. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna say it. You have a niece.”
Her eyes widened and she smiled. “Oh! I had no idea your sister and her husband were trying to have a baby. But what’s wrong?”
Kyle closed his eyes as he shook his head quickly. “No, it’s not Tess. It’s…Sean.”
Arden’s world tilted. At first, she thought she’d misheard Kyle. What was he talking about? Sean had been gone now for four years.
She felt a nudge against her leg and looked down. Camo leaned against her leg as he looked back up into her eyes. Sean had been special to him, too.
“What do you mean, Sean?” She realized she was breathing fast and forced herself to slow down.
“He has a daughter.”
Arden jerked away from Kyle and his hands dropped to his sides. He looked the way she felt—in shock. “A daughter? I don’t…I don’t understand. He’s gone.”
Kyle’s voice softened. “And he left behind a daughter.”
Hot anger suddenly flooded her. “How can you say that? Sean would never, never have a child and not tell me! He would never abandon a baby…” She felt her knees weaken as a horrible thought came to her. “Unless.”
Kyle sighed as he reached for her arms again. His blue eyes shone with tenderness. “She was conceived right before his last mission.”
“How do you know this?” Arden whispered.
“Because she’s here, Arden. She’s in the office right now.”
“What? She’s…here? Now? How do you know some woman isn’t lying about having—”
“She has his eyes, Arden.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her fresh tears. “Same color as yours.”
“Lots of people have gray eyes.”
“Not like yours and Sean’s.” He stroked her hair. “I looked into that little girl’s face and it was like I was seeing a younger you.”
“Are you sure, Kyle?” Arden reached for the fireplace mantel to steady herself.
“Affirmative, baby. Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”
Arden dropped her chin forward. A tear fell straight down and splashed onto the bricks.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” She bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood.
“Come with me,” Kyle said. “Meet her first, then we’ll all talk it out.” He paused. “I already called Lach. He and Gina were in Lyons.”
“Gina and Lach?” That could only mean trouble. Arden squeezed her eyes shut so tightly she saw stars. She felt Kyle’s hand on the small of her back.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”
Kyle guided her out to the SUV, Camo walking beside her. Normally, they’d make the walk down to Watchdog’s main office, but Arden’s legs wobbled so much she didn’t think they were up to the task.
Jodie said nothing to them as they walked through the lobby. She sat there looking almost as stunned as Arden felt.
But that would be impossible. No one—no one—was as shocked as she.
Jodie met Arden’s gaze and gave her a small, encouraging smile and a nod.
By the time they got to the conference room, Kyle was practically carrying Arden. She leaned on him as he turned the knob and opened the door.
Gina stood near one end of the table, both hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.
As always, she was accompanied by Fleur, whose tail started wagging the moment she saw Arden.
Lachlan stood beside Gina, chomping on the pen casing he used as a cigarette substitute when he was extra-stressed.
His sea-colored eyes moved from Maren to Juni to Arden and back again.
Gina’s golden eyes gave Arden a look that said I know, and I’m here, and hold on all at once.
Charlie and Shane, two of Watchdog’s bodyguards, stood side by side across the room.
Both had served as SWCCs with Sean. Shane had grown up with Arden and Sean—they were best friends.
Arden watched Charlie standing with her arms folded tightly across her chest, jaw set, looking like she was holding herself together through sheer force of will.
Shane turned his head away slightly, eyes bright, and stared intensely at the blank wall.
Did they know about this? About Juniper? They served with Sean, and were there with him on his last mission. How could they not know?
That left the woman sitting at the conference room table. She looked terrified—no, haunted might be a better word. But Arden only gave her a cursory glance.
It was the young girl sitting on her lap who captured all of Arden’s attention.
Sean’s eyes. Sean’s eyes in that little face.
Then the little girl tilted her head, leaning forward as she studied Arden.
Arden’s breath caught.
I’ve seen that before.
The thought didn’t finish before the memory slammed into her—Sean as a kid crouched beside a wounded hawk, his head tilted just like that, hands steady, his voice low and calm as he figured out how to help without making it worse.
She was looking at Arden just like that, seeing everything Arden hadn’t bothered to hide—the grief, the shock, the fragile, impossible hope rising up anyway that she had been given back a piece of her brother.
The little girl leaned toward Arden, looking for all the world like she was trying to understand Arden’s pain.
While she must be just as confused and scared and hurt as me. More so. And yet she’s reaching out to make sure I’m okay.
“Why are you crying?” she asked Arden.
Arden felt her heart skip.
“You have his eyes,” Arden said, her voice rough and low. The air went out of the room. “And more.” How could she explain that this little girl already had the same caring, protective soul as Sean, when she didn’t understand it herself?
She tilted her head, still studying Arden. “I’m supposed to meet my daddy’s family today.” She looked from Arden to Kyle, then back again. “Are you my daddy’s family?”
My daddy’s family. The words stabbed Arden straight through the heart, and yet they didn’t destroy it. She felt her heart crack open instead, like a fist that didn’t need to be clenched against the threat of pain anymore.
Kyle crouched to her eye level. “We are, sweetheart,” he said tenderly. He reached for Arden’s hand, steadying her like he always did. “You better believe we are.”
“What’s your name?” Arden asked her.
The little girl looked up at the woman—her mother? Was this the mother of Sean’s daughter? She had to be—and the woman nodded back. The little girl returned her gaze to Arden.
“I’m Juniper Walsh. But you can call me Juni.”
Walsh. Not Volker.
Juni was holding a stuffed Snoopy doll and what looked like two little blankets for it, one fuzzy and brown and the other a printed piece of fabric. She clutched them as something drew her attention just past Arden. She followed Juni’s gaze.
Camo.
He had gone stock-still in the doorway. Arden knew every mood in that dog’s body—the manic wag when Kyle came home, the calm alertness when something moved or called outside at night, the contented sprawl in front of the fire.
She had never seen him look like this.
He stood with his head up and his wet, black nose working, his eyes fixed on Juni.
Then he took a step toward her, slow and deliberate with his neck stretched out.
Juni didn’t reach out. She just waited, watching him with those silver-gray eyes.
Camo stopped right in front of Juni. He lowered his head until his nose nearly touched Juni’s hand clutching the Snoopy stuffie. He sniffed her.
His tail wagged once. Then he made a low sound that Arden had only ever heard from him in his sleep, when she was pretty sure he was back at that river on his last mission—the one that introduced him to Sean and brought an end to Camo’s military career in the worst way imaginable.
He wouldn’t leave Sean’s body, not even at the funeral.
Juni smiled and reached for the dog, palm up.
Camo pressed his muzzle into her hand and closed his eyes. He sighed like he’d just come home.
Arden realized her own hand was over her mouth. It shook as she pulled it down. Kyle squeezed her other hand and she saw tears in his eyes.
Maren looked braced for a blow.
She thinks I’m going to come apart on her.
Arden took a breath. In, hold, out.
“I’m not angry at you,” she said, her voice cracking. “I want you to know that right now, before anything else.”
Maren’s eyes went glassy. “You might be, when you hear—”
“Then I’ll deal with that then.” Arden looked at Juni, who had begun a careful examination of Camo’s ears while he submitted to it with the dignity of a dog who had decided this was his purpose.
Juniper. Juni. Arden felt her mouth curve despite everything.
Sean would have loved that name. He would have been absolutely insufferable about it, calling her Junebug and Juniberry and whatever else he could think of until she told him to stop, and then he would have kept going anyway because that was exactly who he was.
Was.
She returned her attention to the woman. “And what’s your name?”
“Maren. Maren Walsh. I’m Juniper’s aunt. Her mother’s name was Mira. My twin.”
“Was?”
Maren nodded. “She passed away when Juni was still a baby. She was hit by a car in a parking garage and the driver got away. I was told it was an accident. But now?”
Obviously, Maren didn’t want to scare Juniper any more than she already was.
Maren bit her bottom lip and shifted her gaze to Kyle. “I was just told that Sean is gone, too.” She looked back at Arden. “I’m sorry for your loss. Truly.”
“Me too. For yours.”
At that moment Arden understood that Maren had not kept Juniper hidden from her out of any sort of malice. “You didn’t know about my brother, did you?”
Maren shook her head and squeezed Juniper.
“Not until last night. I swear. I didn’t know who…
” She dropped her gaze to her niece, whose attention was still firmly on Camo.
“Mira never told me anything about Juni’s father.
I didn’t think she’d told anyone.” She closed her eyes as bitter pain crossed her face.
“Apparently, that wasn’t the only secret she’d kept from me.
” She opened her eyes again and stared into Arden’s.
“Please,” Maren pleaded. “I’m so, so sorry about this, but my niece and I need your help.”