Luke, a sullen seventeen, the twins, Zach and Dallas, just fourteen and forced to take the sudden death of their parents like men. And then two-year-old Hannah in his arms, quiet, observant, confused. Not yet twenty, he hadn’t been ready for the responsibility of his siblings. It hadn’t mattered.
The service ended; a pause between music pieces followed as the organist flipped pages in her book. The air was sticky with the scent of too many lilies. The only sound came from the squeaking wheels as two identical caskets were rolled to the back of the church. You could have heard a pin drop until Hannah’s scream split the reverent silence in two.
It pierced every ear, so high and sorrowful it rattled the organ pipes. She lunged toward the aisle with a desperate cry for Mommy that tore through all of them. Again and again until her voice gave out. She understood more than he’d thought. Solemn music played over her while women around him wept. Luke and Dallas watched the scene in horror. Zach slumped to the pew and buried his face in his hands.
Since that moment, she’d been his.
He’d like to think he’d done a decent job. He knew he hadn’t. The screams that had come years later were far worse than those in that church twenty-four years ago.
“Don’t you have any real detective work to do?” Hannah bent to scatter the pile of fresh hay she’d set inside the doorway. “Someone else to bother?”
“It’s more fun to bother you,” he said lightly, even if he didn’t feel it. He did have two hot cases going, both related to drugs and possibly to each other. He checked his watch. He’d only meant to come for lunch. “I do need to go, I just—”
“Wanted to hover? Typical.” She blew out an exasperated sigh. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you should think about settling down. If you can’t find that special someone who’ll take you, God bless her, at least get a dog.” She added that last bit with a smile as she turned.
Then her expression grew serious, her probing eyes studying him until he wanted to squirm. But he was a federal agent. It was his job to make other people squirm.
“In all seriousness, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—”
“Right.” He kissed her cheek, tapped a finger lightly on her furrowed brow. “I’ll catch up with you later.” He knew better than to get into this with his sister. If she was getting it into her head that he needed to settle down, she’d be like a dog with a bone.
A dark cloud of rain was blowing in fast. He almost turned around to see if Hannah needed help but resisted the urge. All the horses were in, and her assistant, Lexi, was in the office. If she needed help, she had it.
As he drove his standard black Suburban up the rise and away from the barn, the first giant drops hit his windshield. He paused at the end of the gravel drive then took a left for the Norfolk field office. On the long stretch of empty country road, Hannah’s words about settling reverberated painfully through his chest.
He couldn’t settle, not like his sister had in mind, probably not ever. Because he’d found that special one. The only woman who’d ever owned him.
Found her. Lost her.
Chapter 2
Twenty-four years ago…
NICK PRESSED TWO FINGERS into the headache pounding in his temple and tried to concentrate on professor Jenkins’s explanation of ideal gas law. He circled a line of notes, ignoring the knock on the auditorium door until he heard the familiar cry: Hannah, who he’d left in the university daycare two hours before.
The high-pitched wail wasn’t his two-year-old sister’s hurt cry. It was her scared cry, with a touch of pissed off. In the six weeks since their parents’ death, he’d learned to tell the difference. He’d learned a lot of things. If he didn’t take her to the bathroom, she’d wait too long and have an accident. Green beans made her throw up, but she’d eat them if he told her to. And she would never, ever, go to sleep without the song.
He was up, out of his seat, and halfway down the auditorium stairs before his professor laid his pen down. Nick’s eyes narrowed on the young blonde in an oversized sweatshirt with silk Greek letters sewn on the front. She held a sobbing Hannah dressed in the white sundress with little pink flowers he’d picked out that morning. She hadn’t been crying when he’d left her. Now her eyes were red, and snot mixed with tears dripped into her mouth. She lunged for him, and he caught her against his chest. His heart squeezed like it always did when she held on to him, but especially when she cried.
“I stay you,” Hannah said, each word tumbling out of her with a jerk of her tiny shoulders.