Soldier's Christmas Secrets - Laura Scott Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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frightened state. He knew she’d watched him holding a gun on one of the intruders and was reliving that scary moment in her nightmares.

      He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. He needed to think. To understand what was going on so he could plan his next steps. A good soldier always had at least one backup plan.

      Several things bothered him. Why had Barton decided to send hit men after Jillian tonight? The fact that James Wade had married her five years ago wasn’t a secret. The army knew about Jillian, they’d provided her benefits while he was overseas, and he assumed they’d provided death benefits after he’d been pronounced dead, despite how they’d obviously never found his body.

      So why now?

      And why not wait until the dead of night rather than 10:30 p.m.? The two guys had been professionals, but they were clearly not prepared to face an opponent like Hawk—someone with equal or better training than they had. Whoever provided the intel must have mentioned they were facing a grade school teacher and a four-year-old child. Not a soldier.

      The burn of anger at the thought of those two men getting their hands on Jillian and Lizzy was difficult to ignore. But anger, much like indecision, was the enemy.

      He took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. He toyed with the idea of calling Mike Callahan, a former private investigator he’d once worked with. Mike had recently gotten married and had taken a position with the sheriff’s department. Mike owed him a favor, and Hawk could easily collect. Not that he’d really have to use the favor as leverage. Hawk knew that Mike, or any of the Callahan siblings, would help him out, no questions asked. That was the type of family they were. The Callahans had welcomed him into their home and made him feel like he was one of them.

      Still, he preferred to work alone. At least for now. But he wouldn’t risk any harm coming to Jillian or Lizzy.

      What he really wanted to do was to stash Jillian and Lizzy someplace safe while he continued working the case. Should he send her to stay with the Callahans? They were about the only people he trusted. Yet at the same time, he didn’t dare let Jillian and Lizzy out of his sight.

      Not when he knew that he was the only reason they were in danger.

      He scrubbed his hands over his face, fighting a wave of exhaustion. Jillian deserved to know the truth about his real identity. Yet he worried how she’d react. Five months ago, when he’d found her, he had moved in next door as a way to help her out. He’d noticed the plain gold wedding ring on her finger without the diamond engagement ring he’d given her. That, along with her little girl, had convinced him she’d moved on with another man. He couldn’t blame her since he was legally dead.

      But he’d been wrong.

      He had a daughter. The news was stunning and he realized he should have figured it out sooner. He wanted to talk to Jillian but feared she’d be upset with him when she learned the truth. And worst of all, she might feel as if she needed to stay with him to honor their five-year-old wedding vows despite the horrible scars that grooved his face.

      She was the beauty and he was the beast. With a face that scared Lizzy. He hated knowing his own daughter was frightened of him. Yet he couldn’t change who he was. Who he’d become.

      When it was clear Jillian wasn’t returning to the kitchen to pick up the conversation where they’d left it off, he dumped the dregs of his coffee in the sink and made his way into his room.

      Tomorrow morning, he’d have several decisions to make. They’d need a new place to go and they needed to air the truth.

      If she was angry with him, then fine. He’d take her anger over her pity any day of the week.

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      Jillian fell asleep comforting Lizzy, only to wake up at dawn with a crick in her neck.

      Stretching with a muffled groan, she eased out from Lizzy’s bed. She tiptoed out of the room to use the bathroom and then headed into the kitchen, shivering a bit in the cool air.

      There was no sign of Hawk. Clearly, he hadn’t followed through on her request to call the police.

      Even now his reluctance made no sense. But enough was enough. Better late than never, right? She went over to her purse and dug out her cell phone.

      One bar, indicating the battery was nearly dead. Great. She didn’t have a charger and, from what she could tell, there wasn’t one around here, either. The place was comfortable but rustic.

      She stared at the screen, wondering who would respond if she called 911. Surely not anyone from the Brookland Police Department, which was where the crime had taken place.

      “What are you doing?”

      Hawk’s hoarse voice was so unexpected she let out a yelp and almost dropped the phone.

      “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.” She knew she sounded cranky, but seriously, the man needed to wear a cowbell around his neck.

      “Don’t call the police yet. Not until we talk.”

      Now he was reading her mind? Ugh. She turned the phone off to preserve what was left of her battery and tucked it into the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Talking isn’t exactly your strength,” she felt compelled to point out.

      The right corner of his mouth kicked up in what may have been the hint of a smile. The first she’d ever seen from him. “Maybe not, but you’ll want to hear my story.”

      His story? The one behind his scar? He was right about that, since she’d been wondering about his story for the past five months.

      “Sounds like we’ll need coffee.” She moved into the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. While she did that Hawk opened a cupboard and pulled out a box of instant oatmeal packets.

      “This is about all I have on hand for breakfast,” he said, his voice full of apology. “Or we can stop for breakfast when we leave.”

      “Leave?” Once again he knocked her off-balance. “Why are we leaving so soon?”

      He didn’t answer right away, a trait that annoyed her.

      “Well?” She pulled two mugs out of the cabinet and set them beside the coffeepot. “I thought you said we were safe here.”

      He filled a teapot with water and put it on the stove. “We are, but it’s only a matter of time before they track us here.”

      Her stomach clenched. “They? Who?”

      “The men who came for you last night. They’ll find out my name and will search for my license plate number and for any other properties that I might own. That will lead them here, to this cabin.”

      His words sent a chill down her spine. “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

      “I know. I’m sorry, but we’ll stay one step ahead of them.”

      She poured two mugs of coffee and, since there wasn’t any milk, made do with adding sugar to hers before handing him the one that was black. Their fingers brushed and she was startled by the tingle of awareness she felt. What was wrong with her? This was the wrong time, wrong place and definitely the wrong man!

      “You said we need to talk.”

      He nodded before taking a sip from his mug. “It’s a long story, goes back a couple of years.”

      “Okay.” She took a seat at the table. “I’m listening.”

      “I used to be in the military,” he said, his blue gaze centered on hers.

      “I thought so,” she said with a nod. “Just like James.” At his silent stare, she added, “My husband.”

      “Yeah. Well.” Hawk looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “I—I did a lot of work that was considered classified.”

      Just

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