Return of a Hero Page 11

  Nodding, Morgan managed a cutting smile. “I’ll tell you something. The stain Armstrong and Young placed on me has sullied my family even more than me. None of us has escaped the pain they’ve caused.”

  Laura heard the resolve in his voice and exulted at his determination to clear his name. “Going back to D.C. to start unraveling this mess will take priority,” she stated.

  “You bet it will.” With a sigh Morgan leaned over and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Someone’s going to pay for all the torture my family has undergone. And soon.”

  A little shiver of fear wound through Laura as she watched the sky turn from a brilliant orange to a blood red. The tension in Morgan’s voice made his words a ground-out promise. Now she would be witness to the famous Trayhern fighting style.

  “Do you know that ‘Trayhern’ is Welsh for superiron or superstrength?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, it means someone with superior strength and endurance. And I’m going to need all the genes I’ve inherited to uncover this frame-up.”

  “I think your father is planning a family conference on what to do, after Aly and Clay arrive.”

  Giving her a slight hug, Morgan muttered, “First things first, though. Somehow I have to convince Clay Cantrell that I didn’t desert his brother and leave him to die on that godforsaken hill.“

  Although Clay Cantrell was dressed in civilian dark-brown slacks and a white shirt, Morgan could see the military bearing of his brother-in-law. Aly burst through the door, throwing her arms around Morgan, crying. He mussed her short red hair, kissing her damp cheek, but his eyes never left his brother-in-law, who stood stiffly at the entrance to the house.

  Aly wiped the tears from her eyes, holding out her hand to her husband. “Clay, I want you to meet my brother, Morgan.” Her voice was husky with feeling. “And I want you two to shake hands and not fight!”

  Morgan made the first move, thrusting out his hand to the naval officer. He was aware of the set of Cantrell’s mouth and the unsureness in his eyes. “Stephen talked a lot about you, Clay,” he offered, holding his hand out to him. “We were the best of friends.”

  Hesitantly Clay took his hand. “You and I need to talk,” he said. “Somewhere private.”

  Laura heard the edge to Cantrell’s voice and saw the fear in Aly’s face. There was so much naked emotion on the surface of each man’s face that she ached for both of them. Rachel Trayhern came forward and gave Clay a hug.

  “Why don’t you and Morgan go take a walk in the backyard? There’s a swing out there. Go sit down and resolve your differences. I’ll have lunch ready in about an hour.”

  Relief sizzled through Laura as Rachel defused the explosiveness that surrounded the two men. Morgan glanced over at her, then turned, heading toward the back door, with Cantrell not far behind.

  Laura stood there alone, watching them disappear out the door. She clasped her hands, realizing they were icy cold with nerves. Aly Trayhern came over, giving her a weak smile.

  “Mom says you know everything that happened. Maybe we could sit down somewhere and you could fill me in.”

  Gripping Aly’s hand, Laura pointed toward the living room. “Sure. Let’s go in there.“

  It was noon when Laura finished her explanation.

  The woman pilot sat there, her face devoid of color. She knotted her fists and sat up. “I can’t believe this!” she cried softly. “How could they frame Morgan like that?”

  “Worse,” Laura murmured, “is how Armstrong and Young’s decision has affected every one of you.”

  Rubbing her face tiredly, Aly muttered, “Our family won’t let them get away with this. I promise you, we won’t.” Aly glanced over at her. “It’s obvious Morgan couldn’t have contacted us without your support.”

  “Well—uh—”

  Her eyes narrowing, Aly studied Laura. “You won’t give yourself the credit you deserve. Why?”

  “It isn’t necessary. What’s important is Morgan, and helping him during this time.”

  A grin spread across Aly’s features. “So there is something serious between the two of you. I thought I sensed it.”

  Heat flamed into Laura’s cheeks. “We’ve known each other less than two weeks.”

  Chuckling delightedly, Aly got up and stretched. “I met Clay and fell head over heels in love with him the first time I saw him! It took us nine months to admit it, but the love was there from the beginning.” She leaned down and patted Laura’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep what I know to myself.”

  “Morgan has more important things to—”

  Rolling her eyes, Aly laughed. “Hey! I know this big brother of mine. I saw the look in his eyes every time he glanced at you, Laura. It’s obvious to me Morgan loves you. Maybe he doesn’t realize it yet, and maybe you don’t, either, but it’s there.”

  Refusing to be pulled into Aly’s good-natured baiting, Laura stood. “Anyone ever accuse you of shooting straight from the hip?”

  Throwing her arm around Laura, Aly grinned. “That’s another one of our endearing family traits, didn’t you know? Trayherns never mince words when the truth will do. Come on, I’m starved! And if my eyes don’t deceive me, Morgan and Clay are coming in. Let’s go meet them.”

  Laura felt her heart speed up as she walked with Aly to the back door. Clay Cantrell’s face was no longer tense. It was softer, perhaps relieved, if she read his expression accurately. Her gaze swung to Morgan, who gave her a game smile.

  “I think they’ve made their peace,” Aly murmured, opening the door so the men could step into the house.

  “I think you’re right,” Laura agreed, thankful.

  Morgan walked through the door first. He grinned. “What is this? Two snoopy women?”

  Aly punched her brother playfully in the arm. “I’ll ‘snoopy’ you, Morgan. Laura just got done filling me in on what happened.” She went over to her husband, sliding her arm around his waist, giving him a look filled with love. “Have you two settled things?”

  Clay nodded, kissing his wife’s cheek. “We have.”

  “Everything’s fine,” Morgan said. He slipped his arm around Laura’s waist.

  Laura was constantly surprised by the fact that Morgan included her, no matter what the importance of the event. She basked in his warming look, content to be embraced by him. When she saw Aly’s eyes sparkling in her direction, she avoided the other woman’s knowing look.

  “Soup’s on!” Rachel called from the kitchen.

  “Come on,” Morgan told all of them, “let’s eat.”

  The dining room was filled with laughter, joking and the pleasant clink of silverware against china plates. Laura sat next to Morgan, absorbing the wonderful atmosphere of gaiety. The Trayhern family was a loving one, and they included her as if she were a member. After lunch Chase Trayhern directed them all into the living room to discuss what could be done to help Morgan clear his name.

  “Morgan,” Kit said, holding Melody in her arms, “let me try to track down Lenny Miles. My ex-boss over in narcotics at the Miami Police Department might be able to get something on him through department computers.”

  “Miles was a drug addict,” Morgan said. “I had him under arrest at the time we were on Hill 164 because I caught him high on drugs.” He glanced over at Laura, who sat close to him. “That’s probably why he survived. He was in the bunker at the time of the last attack.”

  “Miles could have been buried under a lot of those sandbags that make up the walls of the bunker,” Clay suggested. “Maybe he hid among them so the NVA couldn’t find him and run him through with a bayonet the way they did everyone else.”

  “Probably,” Morgan agreed sourly. He directed his attention back to Kit, who used to be an undercover narcotics police officer for the city of Miami. “But we still don’t know if Miles is even alive. And if he is, which city he’s in.”

  “Doesn’t matter, Morgan,” Kit interrupted. “Chuck can run a check for us in all major cities. If M
iles is still a druggie, he’s probably been arrested at one time or another. He’ll have a record. We can trace him to a city, then you can go investigate. I’m sure Chuck will see to it that you get help from local law enforcement authorities. I’ll tell him you’re a friend, without mentioning the fact that your name is Trayhern.”

  “Good,” Morgan muttered. He rubbed his mustache. “Better to keep this thing, I suppose, for now.”

  Noah sat up, allowing Melody to climb from her mother’s arms into his. “Don’t shave it off until you’re cleared,” he warned. Looking around the room, he added, “None of us will say anything about your reappearance. For now, it’s a family secret. From my end, I’m going to use the Coast Guard computers to see if Miles has been involved in any drug busts at sea. Between Kit and me, if Miles is around, we’ll find him.”

  “That sounds hopeful,” Morgan congratulated them. “Laura is going to begin sifting through mountains of unclassified documents at the Pentagon from the time of the massacre on Hill 164.”

  “Maybe I can use my top-secret clearance to nose around a little more,” Clay suggested. He glanced at Aly. “They’d never let her into certain files knowing she’s your sister, Morgan. But if I took some leave, spent some time at the Pentagon, I might be able to find something—anything—that would give us information on the people involved in this coverup.”

  A powerful thread of hope wound through Morgan.

  “From my end,” Chase said, “I’m going to put pressure on people at the Pentagon level who owe me. I doubt they’ll help, but it’s worth a try.”

  “The plan sounds solid,” Morgan said. “Laura and I both agree that I’ll stay at her house. You can contact me there if you stumble onto anything.”

  “Speaking of Laura,” Chase said, directing the family’s attention to her, “we owe her more than we can ever repay.”

  “You’re a Trayhern at heart,” Rachel put in quietly.

  Uncomfortable in the limelight, Laura bowed her head. “Morgan proved himself by staying and helping me while I was temporarily blinded by that accident. He deserves any help I might be able to give him.”

  Morgan understood her innate shyness at being the center of attention. Gently he squeezed her hand. “Whether you like it or not, you’re part of our family now.”

  Self-conscious, Laura looked at each one of them, a catch in her voice as she said, “I couldn’t have wished for a better family than you. You’ve all been so kind to me.”

  Aly laughed. “Osmosis, Laura. And frankly, we’re proud you’re a part of our team. I think Morgan has impeccable taste.”

  With a groan, Noah stood. “Aly, stop meddling in Morgan’s personal affairs. He’s capable of handling them himself.”

  Laura laughed nervously along with everyone else. When she looked up at Morgan, he wasn’t laughing. There was pride in his eyes and—something else. Something so tender she wanted simply to throw her arms around him and love him with all her heart.

  “Laura and I are going to the beach,” Morgan said, getting to his feet and pulling her upright. “Anyone want to come along?”

  “I see the Pacific Ocean every day from the air station,” Aly piped up. “Clay and I are beat from the jet lag. I think we’ll hang around the house this afternoon.”

  “Noah?” Morgan asked.

  “I see the Atlantic and Caribbean every day from the deck of a cutter. You two are landlocked. Go down and enjoy the beach for us.”

  Laura smiled in anticipation of a few hours alone with Morgan. And when she saw that very male look in his eyes, a delicious tremor of anticipation swept through her.

  Chapter Eight

  The water was warm, easing all the tension out of Laura’s shoulders and back. She swam slowly back toward shore, with Morgan at her side. The sunlight was delicious and she allowed the powerful waves to push her forward. Her feet touching bottom, she felt Morgan’s arms slide beneath her back and legs, lifting her up against him.

  “Morgan!” she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. His returning laughter flowed through her, and she pressed herself against him.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Closing her eyes, Laura reached up, seeking, finding his mouth. His lips were warm and cherishing, and she tasted the saltiness of the ocean on them.

  “Mmm,” Morgan growled, standing in knee-deep water, “you’re pure heaven, little swan.” And she was, in his book. Those wide, trusting blue eyes of hers would melt even the coldest of hearts, Morgan thought as he walked to the shore and deposited Laura on the blanket.

  Pushing the strands of blond hair out of her eyes, Laura lay back, Morgan beside her. “This is what we needed,” she whispered, closing her eyes and absorbing the sunlight.

  Placing an arm behind his head, Morgan stared up at the building cumulus clouds in the dark-blue sky. “Things are moving pretty fast, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” Laura said, finding his hand and holding it.

  “Scared?”

  “A little. You?”

  “A lot.”

  She turned her head and looked at him. “Why?”

  “If Jim Woodward exposes me before we can uncover proof for my defense, it could put you and your research in jeopardy.” Morgan rolled over, resting his head on one hand. He saw shadows in her blue eyes. “You’re more important to me than anything else. I don’t want the law to entangle you in this, Laura.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He smiled down at her, thinking how beautifully her neck flowed into her delicate collarbones. Tracing the exquisite length of her throat, he smoothed the droplets of water from her flesh. His hand came to rest on her shoulder.

  “I noticed you enjoyed holding Melody.”

  A soft smile pulled at Laura’s lips as she gazed up at him. “I love children.”

  A frown worked its way across his brow as he studied her. “Are there any plans in your life to have any?”

  “I’m twenty-seven now. I figured that by thirty I’d be married and on my way to having at least two or three children.”

  With a soft snort Morgan said, “I never even thought of having a family.” Until recently. Until he’d met Laura. The gentleness and care she possessed were rare in the world, and he marveled at her abilities. Yes, Laura would be a wonderful mother.

  Moving her fingers up his arm, Laura murmured, “There was no room in your life for much of anything except survival, Morgan. How could you think of getting married, much less having a family?”

  Her jaw was firm as he cupped it with his hand. “Lately a lot of things in my life have changed.”

  Laura was unsure how to take his cryptic comment. She met his intense gray gaze that burned with unspoken desire for her alone. “And I’m sure once we get back to Washington, they’ll keep on changing. Only this time, Morgan, for the better.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He gave her a broken smile laced with longing. “Just seeing Noah and Kit with Melody made me want to have what they’ve already earned. That little tyke is a charmer. She’s got Noah’s green eyes, but she’s got Kit’s personality.”

  “A nice combination,” Laura agreed. There was a hunger in Morgan. She sensed it, felt it in the curve of his fingers as they stroked her cheek and saw it in his eyes. The years of loneliness had caught up with him. And just one day with his supportive, loving family had replaced a bleak and desolate future with a richness of new dreams. She sat up, placing her arms around his neck, kissing him gently.

  “First things first,” she told him. “We need to get back to Washington so I can begin digging for proof of your innocence.“

  “Miss Laura!”

  Laura smiled as she walked into one of the many archive vaults far below the main portion of the Pentagon. “Hi, Pop, how are you?”

  The elderly man with the balding head smiled from where he sat at his cluttered desk. “Just fine, missy. Where you been? I understand from Captain Woodward that you had a nasty accident a few weeks ago.” His thick eyebrows
knitted, and he studied her. “You don’t look hurt. Matter of fact, you look better than I can ever recall.”

  Laura stopped at Pop’s desk, which was stacked with pancakes of documents waiting to be put back into various files. Picking up a pen, she signed her name to allow her access to the huge, rectangular room that housed row upon row of metal files. “I’ve recovered now, Pop.” And she did feel happier than she could ever recall. But that was due to Morgan’s undeniable presence in her life—a presence that must remain a secret for now.

  “What you looking for this time?”

  Laura hated to lie, but it was necessary. Straightening, she rested her briefcase on the edge of his desk. “Pop, I’m beginning research for my third book about the conflict the U.S. was involved in starting in 1960.”

  Cackling, Pop pushed up his wire-rimmed spectacles. His brown eyes sparkled as he slowly got up and came around the desk. “So, Vietnam’s next?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What year you want to start with? 1962?”

  “No…I want to start with 1970 and work back.”

  A little puzzled, he scratched his balding head, which shone beneath the fluorescent lights. “That was close to the end of it, missy.”

  Laura followed him down one long wall of files. The vault was silent except for the movement of air from a number of strategically placed fans. “I know. But I want to get a perspective on our withdrawal from Vietnam first.”

  He rounded one corner, then stopped at another row of files, patting one of the cabinets affectionately. “Start here, then. As you know, these are all unclassified documents having to do with any communications regarding the war.”

  Licking her lips, Laura peered at the small, neatly written tags on each cabinet. “I’m starting with marine corps involvement.”

  Pop leaned over, placing a hand against his lower back. “Down here,” he said, pointing a bony finger at the last cabinet, “then up here in the next section. There are at least three hundred files.”

  Her heart pounded briefly. “Okay. Thanks, Pop.”