Page 10 of Defended By the SEAL (HERO Force #10)

Cowboy woke up in a foul mood, the temperature in the room damn near frigid.

He crossed to the window and pulled back the drapes, squinting against the blinding white beyond the glass, blowing snow filling his entire field of vision.

He turned back to the room. Charlotte was nowhere to be seen, which made him grumpier, if that was possible.

He dressed quickly and thought about last night.

She’d come to him looking to make love, and he’d been all too happy to oblige. It had been some of the most soul-shaking sex he’d ever had in his life, and he’d had some—the best of it with that woman right there. He’d thought it might mean something to her.

But from the moment she came back to the room, he knew he’d been wrong. You could have driven a tractor between them. She was damn near hanging off the opposite edge of the bed. He’d attempted to talk to her, but she’d shut him down with a handful of syllables and a tone that could freeze lava.

Why the fuck had she slept with him, then? If she was still just as adamant about them not getting married and needing a break, then why did she wake him up with that come-hither look in her eye, more desperate for his touch than he’d seen her in a long damn time?

God, to be wanted like that by her was like some sort of drug that twisted up his insides and filled him with pure euphoria. At least until she dropped him on his ass.

His phone vibrated. It was Moto. “What’d you find out?”

“He was an economics professor, that’s true. So’s the bank executive bit. However, he left out the time he was charged by the feds for sedition.”

“Sedition? Like plotting to overthrow the government? What the hell did he do?”

“I don’t know much. I hit a cement wall looking into this guy’s backstory and had to call Jax Andersson. His contacts hooked us up off the record, but the picture’s incomplete.”

Jax was the original leader of HERO Force Atlanta, though these days he spent most of his time having tea parties with his wife Jessa and their two daughters.

But he was hard-wired into the Pentagon through some relationships Cowboy didn’t really understand, and had long gotten HERO Force work doing things the US armed forces couldn’t touch with a ten foot American flagpole. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

“They confirm Vanderhoffen was charged with sedition in connection with a terrorist attack on an American embassy,” said Moto. “But I have no details. Not even the country the embassy was in.”

Cowboy frowned. “Okay.”

“I know he was part of an organization called the People’s Freedom Party, or PFP. They claimed responsibility for three terrorist attacks less than eighteen months apart, two in the Middle East and one on an oil tanker in open water.”

“Where in the Middle East?”

“Unspecified.”

“What flag was the ship flying?”

“Panama. But that’s probably just a flag of convenience.”

“So we have no idea who these PFP guys were really targeting.”

“I’m sure somebody knows, but I sure as hell don’t.”

Cowboy pinched the skin between his eyes. “Go on.”

“Get this. I couldn’t find any record of this in my databases because the charges against Vanderhoffen were dropped in exchange for his testimony in another case.”

“They dismissed charges of sedition in exchange for testimony?”

“That’s what they said.”

“Charges of plotting to overthrow the fucking government.”

“Uh huh.”

“Of the United States of America.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As a Navy SEAL, there was no more heinous crime from where Cowboy was sitting, except maybe one. “What’s next? You take a shot at the President and they let you walk, if you’re willing to pin something even bigger on the next guy?”

“I guess so.”

Cowboy shook his head in disgust. “What else you got?”

“That’s it. He went on with his life as a banker. Left there to teach economics. The rest is bland, everyday stuff.”

“How did a freaking terrorist go on to be a college professor? Nobody knew the truth about this guy?”

“Like I said, his official record’s spotless. Without Jax, I wouldn’t have found a thing.”

“Thanks, Moto.” He moved to hang up.

“There’s something else.”

Cowboy put the phone back to his ear.

“Vanderhoffen just missed qualifying for the US Olympic team in pistol shooting.”

“He’s a marksman.”

“A damn good one.”

“So he’s a goddamn sharpshooting terrorist.” He hung his head, the muscles of his neck thick and knotted with tension.

He wished he had some extra hands on this one, even as he knew he’d never pull members of his team off other missions just because granny’s boyfriend had once made a deal with the feds.

Because as far as he knew, that was all that had happened.

Anything else was speculation, and he wasn’t about to call in backup so they could eat pot roast and play guess who’s coming to dinner.

“You want backup on this?” asked Moto.

“Nah, I’m fine. Good work, Moto. Thanks.

” Ending the call, he checked his battery life in the corner of the screen.

He placed the cell phone on the nightstand, staring at it and wondering if that call would be his last communication with the mainland.

Were the bridges between this island and the rest of the world even still intact?

He told himself it didn’t matter, then went in search of Charlotte.

If he thought his room was cold, the hallway was a damn meat locker. He could see his breath as he walked, the air not warming until he got into the living room, where a big fire blazed in the even bigger fireplace.

Charlotte’s grandmother sat beside it, and looked up when he entered.“Good morning, Cowboy.”

“I thought the flue was broken.”

“Darnedest thing. It seems to be fine. Did you sleep well?”

He narrowed his eyes. She was a rascally old bat, and he wondered if he should thank her. Deciding against it, he said, “I slept fine, thank you. Where’s Charlotte?”

“She went up to the attic to find some old family heirlooms we got chatting about. Can I make you a cup of coffee or tea?”

“Coffee would be great, thanks.” He followed her to the kitchen, where another fire blazed. “Where’s Tom this morning?”

“Splitting firewood by the shop.”

“I’ll help him.”

“Oh no, he has a fancy log splitter. It isn’t back breaking work. Sit down. I’d rather you stay here with me.” She smiled warmly. “I thought perhaps we could talk.”

She was cheerful, but he wasn’t fooled by her disposition. Beneath her good humor, she seemed tired and stressed. He pulled a chair away from a large island and sat down. “Sure.”

She put the kettle on, then ground the coffee beans and put them in a French press. “I have three sons and seven grandchildren, but Charlotte is the only girl. She’s very special to me.”

“She’s a very special woman.”

“That she is. Prickly like a cactus, but with a bigger heart than anyone I’ve ever known.

” She set a plate of cookies down in front of him, and he thought of martinis.

“When she was younger, I got to spend a lot more time with her. But now that she’s all grown up, she doesn’t need her grandma so much anymore. ”

“She loves you very much.”

She waved him away. “Oh, I know she does. Family is like that. You don’t have to see each other often to know how the other one feels.

” She took a cookie. “The last time she came to see me, she wanted a divorce from Rick. She was a holy mess, the poor thing, and afraid giving up on her marriage was a form of failure.”

“But she knew you would love her, anyway. That’s why she came to you.”

“I like you, Leo. You see her for who she really is. Many people are confused by her. They see her boldness and think she doesn’t need anyone, or that she doesn’t have feelings like the rest of us do.”

He laughed without humor. “If anything, she’s more sensitive than most women I’ve known.”

The kettle whistled, and she poured the water in with the coffee grounds. “And prone to wounds that just don’t heal.”

“She is strong, though. Maybe stronger than you give her credit for being.”

She brought the coffee to the island and let it steep. “You’re good for her, Leo.”

“We’re not…”

She waved him away. “Maybe not yet. But there’s chemistry between you.

I can see it.” She seemed to consider her next words.

“Charlotte has a lot to lose. She always did. Even when she was little, she was different, a glittering diamond on a beach full of sand. People tried to tell her it was wrong to shine, to stand out, to be the beautiful person she was born to be.”

“People like Rick.”

“Yes, like Rick. And her mother.” She pushed the plunger down on the French press, then poured two cups of the steaming brew.

“Bethany—my daughter-in-law—thought she was helping Charlotte to be more normal. To fit in. But telling a diamond not to glitter is cruel. It made Charlotte question who she was. Who she should be. Then her husband did the same.”

“I would never do that.”

“I know. I can see that about you.” She winked. “It’s Charlotte I’m worried about. After the divorce, she lost some of that sparkle. I’m not certain she’s ever gotten it back.” She patted the island. “Stay here. I have something for you.”

Cowboy took a cookie, the smell of the rich coffee calming the restlessness with which he’d started the day.

After the divorce, she lost some of that sparkle.

She’d lost some of it since then, too. Every time he’d asked her to marry him. Every time he ignored what was in her heart and told her she was wrong for feeling that way. It hurt to realize he’d done that to her, when all he’d ever wanted was to make her happy.

Grams walked back in the room carrying a gray shoebox.

“Most of my old things are upstairs. I just have a few of these boxes I like to keep close to me.” She set it on the island and opened it.

Several black-and-white photos were on top, and she picked them up lovingly, showing them to Cowboy.

“That’s my Harold, Charlotte’s grandpa. And these are my boys when they were little. ”

He picked up the photo of Harold, who looked no older than twenty, his arm around a beautiful young woman who resembled Charlotte. “You two look very happy together.”

“Oh, we were. When I didn’t want to kill him, anyway.” She laughed. “Love is like that.” Her expression changed, less laughter, more contentment. “And now I have Tom.” She set the picture aside. “I never thought I’d find love again.”

Cowboy failed to see how Vanderhoffen inspired such feelings in this woman, but to each their own. “I’m happy for you.”

Grams dug through trinkets and papers, finally pulling out a small ziplock bag. “Here we go.” She opened it, letting a piece of jewelry fall into her hand, then held it out to him. “This is my engagement ring.”

He took the sparkling diamond ring. “It’s beautiful.”

“A lot of love went into that ring, and a lot of love came out. I’ve been meaning to give it to Charlotte for some time now.”

He handed it back to her. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“I’m holding out hope she’ll find herself a good man who’ll want to slip it on her finger one day.” She eyed him intently.

Cowboy lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t give it to Rick.”

“No, I did not.”

There was a feistiness in her voice that told him how much she and Charlotte had in common. Grams wasn’t making any apologies for that decision, then or now.

He could imagine the young Harold giving this to his sweetheart Loretta, just as he could imagine himself giving it to Charlotte.

But it wasn’t what she wanted, and might never be.

His dream of marriage was costing him the woman he loved, and for the first time, he considered the possibility of doing things her way.

“She doesn’t want to get married again.”

“She was badly hurt.” Grams tucked the ring back into its sleeve and into the shoebox. “But when the right man comes along, she’ll change her mind.”

If she only knew how much he wished that was true.

He considered telling her the entire story, but the sound of someone traipsing down the stairs echoed through the house.

Grams raised her eyebrows. “I wonder what treasures she’s found this time.

Though there are some skeletons up there, too. Hopefully, she didn’t disturb those.”