Just like this flower, she was delicate, but also stubborn. She’d lost her staff, her confidence and now the final lifeline to her friend Henry—the journal. Yet she kept finding ways to straighten her shoulders and stand upright.
He plucked the little cluster. The stems were surprisingly tough compared to the petals.
He didn’t know what he’d do with them—press them inside the folded note maybe. He only knew leaving them behind felt wrong.
“Gabe?” Carson called out. “Any last-minute ideas?”
He carefully slipped the flowers in his inside pocket next to the note and eyed the blueprint Pat held stretched between both hands. “Any changes before we pour concrete? Once it’s down, there’s no going back. At least not without great expense.”
Gabe gazed at the land, then at the mountain peaks beyond. “This would make a great place for mountain warfare training.”
Carson arched a brow. “Go on.”
He pointed toward the steeper side. “That’s perfect for vertical movement drills. The brush cover is good for concealment. You’ve got natural rock for ambush scenarios. You could simulate rough terrain infiltration. And the winters aren’t easy up here. It’s also isolated enough for explosives training.”
“Damn. That would mean moving the site of the facility.”
The contractor blinked. “That…is actually doable.” He waved a hand toward the east. “That flat area was our second choice for the site.”
Carson nodded. “It seems like we’ve got a new plan.” He turned to Gabe, eyes gleaming with approval. “And I think we just found our reason why you’re here.”
Whether it was for the ranch, the security agency, the training center…or the woman carrying too much on her shoulders…Gabe wasn’t going anywhere.
* * * * *
As soon as Felicity slipped into the house, Honor appeared, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her sharp gaze zeroed in on Felicity, brows already pinched with concern before she ever asked what was going on.
Felicity bypassed all of Honor’s concerns with a question. “Is that brownies I smell?”
The rich aroma hovered in the air, reminding her of those happy weeks when Honor came to visit.
A smile stretched over her sister’s face. “Mom’s recipe. C’mon. You can lick the bowl.”
“Ooh!”
Visiting their parents was just another thing on Felicity’s to-do list that probably wouldn’t happen until things settled. But brownies she could do. She set her bag out of the way and followed her younger sister to the kitchen.
As soon as she entered, her gaze fell on the baby seat on the floor. Strapped into it was Carson and Layne’s newborn. CJ had just a dusting of hair on his perfectly round head, and his father’s gray eyes—Malone eyes.
“Forget the bowl. Let me at this baby!” She forgot her own cares as she sank to the floor beside the infant.
“I’m watching him for a few hours while Layne gets some sleep. Little master CJ here has his hours turned around and is keeping his parents up all night.”
“He doesn’t look tired after being up all night.”
“I suppose he’s like his Uncle Gray. That man can burn the candle at both ends and two points in the middle and still function at peak.”
“Oh really?”
A faint pink flush crept into Honor’s cheeks. She started to sputter a response, but Felicity laughed.
At the sound, CJ’s bright eyes turned on her, and she leaned in to capture his little hand and babbled to him.
Hugging the brownie bowl, Honor leaned against the counter. When Felicity paused in her very important conversation with the infant, Honor jumped right in.
“How are things, Felicity?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. How to express any of the things going on? She was frightened. She was pissedoff. And…each time she saw Gabe, her stomach tumbled with excitement.
