Chris Larabee stretched, twisting his torso back and forth. He glared ineffectually at the instrument of his discomfort.

“Tanner, remind me to get you a new sofa next Christmas!”

Vin leaned against the jamb of the bedroom door, fingers busy with his belt.

“Ain’t so bad. You’re just gettin’ old, Cowboy.”

Glaring at Vin was just about as effective as glaring at the damned couch.

“Next time, you can have the couch. A good host gives his guest the premium accommodations.”

Vin laughed, shaking his head as he straightened and headed for the kitchen and the coffee.

“Ya sound like Ez. You make real coffee, ol’ man? Or just that puny stuff you pansies like to pretend is coffee?”

Chris chuckled as he followed Vin into the tiny kitchen, then lowered himself into a chair across the table from the grimacing Texan. He’d give a lot to discover where Vin’s taste for coffee had developed. The man liked it strong enough to double as floor cleaner.

“Don’t even taste like coffee. Might‘s well drink tea.”

Chris accepted the offered mug.

“Lotta folks like tea.”

“Just tastes like dirty water to me.”

As he slurped his coffee, Vin stretched his free hand out to grab a fist full of the files they’d been poring over into the wee hours of the morning.

“So, you figure we…”

A tentative rap on the door interrupted Vin’s question.

“Damn. Probably one of the kids. I’ll be right back, Chris.”

Chris rose to his feet and followed Vin out of the little kitchen, stopping to lean against the wall and sip his coffee.

The Texan pulled the door open and froze, staring at whoever stood outside.

Alarmed, Chris stiffened, then stepped far enough out into the room to see the stranger who stood staring at Vin with an expression of amazed hunger.

A stranger. But not entirely. Those features were hauntingly familiar. This man was older, sleeker, groomed and dressed with the casual style of someone so familiar with wealth as to give it no conscious thought.

But the face… Sharp, square jaw, high cheekbones, overlarge eyes. Not Vin’s startling blue, but the shape was the same. And the mouth was the same.

“V… Vin Tanner?”

The man’s voice was thin and shaky.

Vin continued to stare for a long, tense moment.

“I reckon.”

The man drew a deep breath. “My name is Lloyd. Kevin Lloyd.”

Vin showed no sign of recognition.

“I… I… Oh, God. How do I…? Uh… Damn…” Lloyd shoved a hand through his stylishly groomed hair. “There’s no easy way. Mister Tanner… Vin… I… I’m sure… Actually, I think… Son, I think I’m your father.”

So this was fear. Or maybe it was just excitement.

No. It was fear. The terror of a man facing a deserved but long-avoided fate.

Kevin leaned his hand against the scuffed wood of the door, seeking deep inside for enough of the excitement and anticipation he’d felt earlier to carry him through curling his fingers up and knocking. Facing the young man he hoped was on the other side of that door. The wonderful, terrifying, wildly improbable young man.

Drawing a deep breath, he straightened and glanced once more up and down the dingy hall.

It was a terrible neighborhood. Run-down, tatty, dangerous. Guilt choked him as he thought of this young man growing up and living in such conditions. Not fair. Not right. His fault.

He shook himself firmly, straightened his shoulders, and took the final step toward his fate.

He knocked on the door.

The wait was only seconds, but each of those moments descended on his shoulders with the weight of an hour. For an instant, he found himself hoping there’d be no answer.

And then, there he was, staring through the open door, brilliant blue eyes wide and astonished.

Oh, God. He was beautiful. So like Martin, but also like…

He heard himself stammering, unable to force the much-rehearsed words through his throat.

“Son, I think I’m your father.”

The eyes widened even more, the mouth dropped open.

“Wh… what the hell?” The words were harsh, disbelieving.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I rehearsed this a hundred times, and I still messed it up. Vin, I…”

“No. No way in hell! Get the hell out of here!”

“Vin!” He reached out to grasp at the faded blue t-shirt. With a hard twist, Vin jerked away, turned and disappeared through an inner door.

“Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn!” He leaned forward, bracing his hands against his knees and allowing his head to droop. So much for his much-vaunted diplomatic skills.

“He don’t like to be touched. Especially by strangers.”

His head jerked up at the cold words. He’d been so focused on Vin, he hadn’t noticed the other man.

“Wh…who? I’m sorry. I don’t…”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Kevin Lloyd.”

“Yeah, you said that. Doesn’t answer the question.”

He’d give half of everything he owned to sit, but no invitation had been offered. Feeling twice his age, he straightened, then leaned against the door jamb.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m making much sense.” He chuckled without humor. “That’s supposed to be my strong suit… making sense. Not today.”

The icy green eyes continued to stare.

“I swear, I’m telling the truth. I’m sure—sure—that Vin is my son.”

“Where the hell’d you come from?”

“New Hampshire.” He winced at the inadequacy of that answer

The scowl deepened into a glare so intimidating that he had to fight the urge to turn and run back to the stairs.

“Let’s try this again. Where the hell’d you come from?”

“Right, right. Ah… in the most immediate sense, I came from New York. Where I had a breathtaking conversation with my favorite nephew. He didn’t realize… I… when he told me…”

“Nephew?” The other man’s eyes narrowed. “FBI man named Fitzgerald?”

“Yes! Martin.”

The man was nodding slowly.

“You look like him.”

“Like Vin as well.”

“Yeah, like Vin as well.”

The man continued to gaze at him, head tilted in speculation.

“So… What d’you want from Vin?”

“W… want? I don’t want anything. Other than, well, to explain. To tell him… you know…” He waved his hand vaguely. “Try to make him understand.”

“And?”

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against the lump in his throat.

“If he’s willing, I’d like to… Oh, God, I just want to get to know him! All these years…”

“Where the fuck have you been all these years?”

“Sir, I swear to you, I had no idea Vin existed. Dear lord, if I’d known…!”

For another long moment, he suffered that chilling stare. Finally, the man relaxed and extended his hand.

“Name’s Larabee.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Mister Larabee.” Kevin choked on another rather hysterical laugh. “How odd that sounds, in these particular circumstances!”

Larabee’s mouth relaxed into what might have been a smile.

“Yeah, it does.” Larabee stepped out into the hall, clearly not willing to invite Kevin into the apartment.

“Look, Mister Lloyd. You weren’t very smart about the way you did this. A man don’t like to be ambushed by something like this. Why the hell didn’t you contact him before you dropped yourself on his doorstep?”

Kevin shook his head sadly. “You’ll be disgusted, Mister Larabee. I should have listened to Martin. He even offered to come along and talk to Vin before I asked Vin to meet me. But…” He felt his cheeks warm. “I’m afraid I’m not always the wisest of men, and I guess I had some sort of idyllic image of him falling into my arms weeping with joy. Silly. Stupid. And maybe I was just a little too afraid that, given the chance, he’d refuse to see me at all.”

Larabee’s brows rose. “And that would be different from this… how?”

Pain and regret constricting his throat too much for speech, Kevin nodded.

“Look, Mister Lloyd…” Larabee leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “There’s no denying you did this all wrong. Vin’s a stubborn man. You put him off stride, and he’s not going to back down easy.”

Kevin cast a longing look into the shabby living room of the apartment. “If I could just talk to him…”

Larabee shook his head. “Not now. Won’t do any good.”

“So… That’s the end of it?”

“Don’t know.” Larabee tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he examined Kevin. “Look, Mister Lloyd. Vin’s my friend. More than that, really. You hurt him any more than you already have, and I’ll make you sorry for the rest of your days.”

Kevin stared into those frigid green eyes, and had no doubts that the man was completely sincere.

“But… Well, I think Vin might really like to know your story. If I can get him calmed down enough to listen.”

He straightened and moved back through the door into the apartment.

“You know where the Federal Building is?”

“I can find out easily enough.” Kevin felt a small seed of hope. “Do you think…?”

“No promises. I’ll talk to Vin. Try to get him to agree to listen.” Larabee gripped the door, pulling it half shut. “This afternoon. Ask at Security—Team Seven, thirteenth floor. I’ll leave word that you’re expected. If Vin’ll talk—well, that’s a bit less personal place. Might be better than here.”

“Yes… all right.” Kevin stretched his hand out. “Thank you, Mister Larabee. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

Larabee accepted the hand, his grip firm. “You just sit down and do a bit of thinkin’ before you try this kind of thing again. Vin’ll stampede before he’ll be herded. You want to get to know him, you walk soft and careful. And remember—you hurt him, you’ve got me to deal with. Me and the rest of Vin’s team.”

Kevin was still nodding as the door clicked shut.

Chris wasn’t surprised to find the bedroom empty. The open window told him where he’d find his young friend. Pulling the blowing curtains aside, he slipped through the window onto the grid of the fire escape. Slowly, he climbed the two flights to the roof.

And there he was, standing two feet back from the barrier, staring out over the sordid streets of Purgatorio.

“Hey, pard,” Chris said softly.

Vin didn’t move. Chris walked quietly over to stand beside the other man.

“He’s gone, Vin.”

Vin jerked a single nod in reply.

The two of them stood, silent. Chris knew Vin would talk when he was ready. In the meantime, he was willing to wait.

After several minutes, Vin sighed and moved back toward the fire escape. Chris followed as he climbed back onto the metal grid, then lowered himself to sit on the hard stairs, unfocused gaze directed down the alley.

“She’s only eighteen. Got nothin’ and nobody.” There was a world of sadness in Vin’s voice. “Never knew what happened to him. She waited the rest of her life for him to come back.”

Chris winced. “That was a shitty thing to do to anyone, let alone a young girl.”

Vin nodded wordlessly.

Another long silence later, Vin’s chin dropped, and he sighed again. “Don’t want him, Chris. He can just go back wherever he came from.”

“I can’t blame you, Vin. You’ve had a long time to get used to him not being there.”

Vin snorted. “Was a time or two I coulda used someone. But I don’t need him no more.”

“No, you don’t. But are you sure you don’t want to hear his story? You know who sent him, don’t you?”

Startled blue eyes met his. “Sent him?”

“Well, maybe not exactly ‘sent’ him, but haven’t you figured out how he found out about you?”

Vin’s brows furrowed in confusion, then smoothed. “Martin.”

“Yup.”

“Why would… Shit. He’s related to Martin. That’s why…”

“Yup.”

“Yer conversation’s brilliant this mornin’, Cowboy.”

Chris grinned. “Yup.”

“So….?”

“So, you like Martin, right?”

“Yup.”

Chris grinned. “Yup. Well, Martin is Kevin’s favorite nephew. You like Martin; Kevin likes Martin. I’m assuming Martin likes Kevin. You might just find you like Kevin, too.”

“No.”

“Just ‘no’? Not even willing to give it a try?”

“No.”

“Well, try this angle. If you’re Kevin’s son, that means Martin’s your cousin.”

The scowl on Vin’s face softened. “I reckon.”

“So do I. And Vin…” Chris leaned over to bump his shoulder against Vin’s. “Every story has at least two sides, pard. It can’t hurt you to listen to what he has to say.”

The scowl tightened. “I ain’t interested.”

“You don’t have to give him anything, Vin. You listen, then if you still feel the same way, you give him his marching papers. Don’t you want to know why? Aren’t you even a bit interested in whether you have more family?”

Vin chewed on his lower lip for a few moments. “What makes you think any family I might have’ll want anythin’ to do with me, Chris? M’ mama’s family sure as hell didn’t.“

Chris felt the shock ripple through his body. “I thought…”

“Same as makes no difference, Cowboy. Family’s more than blood. They ain’t my family.”

“Right. Well, you’re not giving Lloyd much of a chance. You tossing him and his folks off before they have a chance to turn their noses up at you?”

Color flooded Vin’s cheeks. “Reckon I am.”

“Martin didn’t.”

“Martin didn’t know I’s applyin’ to be part of his family.”

“You think it would have made a difference to him?”

Vin sat quietly for a moment, then turned to meet Chris’s eyes. “No. Wouldn’t have made no difference.”

“Right. Because Martin’s a genuine nice guy. So… What makes you think Kevin isn’t?”

Vin’s mouth tightened, and he looked away. “He left her. Just left.”

“Yes, he did. And I’d really like to know why.”

“What if I don’t like the answer?”

“Then you send him packing. We send him packing. I told him to show up at the office later today. Figured you’d feel better with some backup.”

Vin stared down at the noisome alley, tongue sweeping over his lips.

Finally, he nodded sharply. “Right. Reckon I can do that. But if I say no…”

“If you say he goes, he’s gone. You know that, pard.”

Vin nodded again, then stood, sweeping his hands over the seat of his pants. “So let’s get on with it.”

Vin didn’t speak a word as they drove to the Federal Building. Chris glanced across at Vin’s shuttered face as he pulled his truck into the empty spot next to the Texan’s jeep, left behind the night before when they’d decided to make a night of it at Vin’s.

“You ready for this, Vin?”

Vin shrugged, staring out the passenger window. Still without speaking, he opened the door and slid out of his seat, the stack of files in his hand.

Chris grimaced and followed suit, joining Vin as the elevator doors slid open.

As they entered Team Seven’s open-plan work space, Chris tapped Vin’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you go compare notes with Ezra? See if his twisted mind came up with anything that makes sense of those files.”

Vin nodded, heading for Standish’s desk. Chris stood and watched him walk away, noting the tension in his shoulders.

Damn. It was going to be a really long day.

Shaking himself slightly, Chris headed toward his office, tossing over his shoulder, “JD? My office.”

JD’s head shot up, eyes wide and apprehensive. “Y…your office? Um… sure, Chris. Coming.”

“Relax, kid. He ain’t eaten anyone in a few weeks. You’re safe. Probably.”

“Shut up, Buck!”

Chris let himself grin at the silly exchange. Nice some things were dependable.

As he eased into his chair, JD slid through the door, staying as close to the way out as possible.

“Don’t worry, JD. You’re not in any trouble. I just need you to do something for me.”

He pulled a Post-It off the stack and printed a name.

“Here. Everything, cradle to ten minutes ago.”

JD examined the name. “Is he a new suspect?”

“No. Just do it, JD.”

“Professional info?”

“I said ‘everything,’ JD. Professional, personal, familial… Everything. I want to know what his dog eats.”

“Right. Dog food.” The young man nodded and reached for the door handle.

“JD. This comes to me. And no discussing it. Not with anyone.”

“No discussing. Right.”

Chris smiled grimly as the team’s research expert slid back through the office door.

He wasn’t going to allow any surprises he could cut off at the pass. If he discovered Kevin Lloyd wasn’t exactly what he seemed to be, the man was never going to get past security, let alone within spitting distance of Vin Tanner.

His hands were cold. He noticed it absently as he waited for the Security agent to connect to Larabee.

Cold hands, warm heart. That’s what they said, right? Whoever ‘they’ were. And his heart didn’t feel warm. It was fluttering with apprehension.

Despite the poor judgment behind his little move that morning, he was no fool. And he really was a good judge of men. He knew with complete certainty that Larabee would have him checked out.

He also knew there was nothing disreputable to be found, but that didn’t stop him from hovering, irrationally terrified that the man would have decided to give him his marching orders.

And that ability to assess human nature told him, again with absolute certainty, that if Larabee decided Vin needed to be protected from Kevin Lloyd, he was never going to get this meeting with his son.

Despite the jittery heart, a wave of warmth flooded him at that thought. His son. Ronnie’s son.

His feelings were so conflicted. Stunned joy that such a person existed, regret and smothering guilt about the events that had produced him. He ached to explain those events to Vin.

“Mister Lloyd?” The young woman was holding the telephone out. “Agent Larabee would like to speak with you.”

Licking his lips, he grasped the phone. “Mister Larabee?”

“Lloyd. I’ve told Agent Morris to clear you to come up. Just remember what I said this morning.”

“I remember. You investigated me?”

“Of course I did. You look fine. But that doesn’t really change anything. I don’t give a shit about what you want or how you feel about all of this. All that matters is Vin.”

“Agreed. Agent Larabee, please believe me. I have no intention of harming him in any way.”

“We’ll see. Thirteenth floor, head to the right from the elevator.”

He handed the phone back to the Security agent, passed through the metal detector and headed toward the elevators.

As the cage floor pressed against the bottoms of his feet, he forced his fists to relax, grimacing at the smarting grooves left by his fingernails. If his heart had fluttered before, it was doing the mambo now.

He turned right as he exited the elevator, passing through a glass-fronted double door with “ATF Team Seven” printed in black on the glass. Two steps into the large room beyond the door, he faltered, then stopped. Five pairs of eyes examined him with various degrees of curiosity, a sixth with fierce warning. The seventh—those brilliant blue eyes he’d seen this morning—remained lowered, focused on the surface of the desk beside which Vin sat.

Larabee stood beside Vin, a hand firmly gripping the younger man’s shoulder.

“Can I help you?”

Kevin jerked his attention away from Vin and Larabee to meet the inquisitive hazel eyes of a young man with a head of shaggy dark hair.

“I…”

“That’s okay, JD. We’re expecting Mister Lloyd.” The boy’s eyes widened as Larabee spoke Kevin’s name. He glanced quickly at Larabee, reading some message in the other man’s face.

“Vin?”

Vin’s gaze finally lifted from the wood he’d been examining with such concentration. He looked up at Larabee, mouth tight with stubborn denial.

For a moment, the two friends just stared at each other.

“C’mon, pard. You promised.”

“Mister Tanner?” The man across the desk from Vin leaned forward, his concerned voice brushed with the honeyed accent of the deep South.

“It’s okay, Ez. I… We’ll explain later.”

Kevin found himself skewered by a pair of fine green eyes, alive with cunning intelligence. And realized he’d just received another warning.

He smiled slightly. Despite his fears, this abandoned son was far from alone.

“As you say, Mister Tanner.”

“You can use the conference room, Vin.” Larabee tugged on Vin’s shoulder, pulling him to his feet and giving him a gentle shove toward an open doorway. “I’ll bring you coffee, okay?”

Still avoiding Kevin’s eyes, Vin nodded and led the way through the door. Kevin followed, glancing around the smaller room. The solid wooden table which nearly filled the available space was scuffed and worn, the chairs mismatched and adorned with an assortment of cushions and throws, clearly each place individualized. One wall was all windows, the rest covered with bulletin boards containing a variety of informational materials, flow charts, and silly joke drawings. Kevin smiled softly. This most business-like of spaces had an unexpectedly personal warmth. He found himself liking this team of Vin’s, despite having actually met only one of them.

He turned and lowered himself into one of the chairs—the unadorned eighth seat. He took a deep breath, then released it slowly, willing his hands to stop shaking.

Vin stood tensely beside the door, eyes flicking from the tabletop to Kevin, then back again.

“Please, Vin. Sit.”

At last, he met Vin’s eyes, seeing the fear and uncertainty.

“Dear God, Vin. Please. I mean you no harm. I just want you to know about… about your mother and me.”

Vin didn’t move. Just stared at Kevin, right hand gripping the back of the chair closest to the door.

“Relax, Cowboy.” The quiet voice pulled Vin’s attention away from Kevin. Larabee’s hands were burdened with three steaming mugs. He handed one to Vin—a rather battered mug with an image of galloping horses wrapped around it. Leaning across the table, he set a second, plain mug in front of Kevin.

“That came from the pot the rest of us use. I figure introduction to Vin’s version of coffee can wait until you get a bit better acquainted.”

With a start, Kevin realized Larabee had actually made a joke. Vin’s taut body relaxed visibly as he cast a scornful glance over his shoulder.

“Can’t help it if y’all got such delicate bellies. Larabee. Cain’t drink grown-up coffee.”

His voice was still tight with tension, but he carried the mug to the chair to the right of the head of the table, a chair decorated with a beautiful throw, woven in patterns of soft, earthy colors. As he sat, he cast another look at Larabee.

Larabee’s brows rose, his head tilted slightly. Vin’s mouth pursed, then he gave a quick nod. A look of relief touched Larabee’s face as he pulled the door shut and lowered himself into the chair beside Vin’s. His mug was black, with “Just do it, damnit!” printed in block white letters across its glossy surface.

Kevin’s mouth dropped open a bit as he realized he’d just witnessed a conversation going on without a word spoken.

“I take it you’re staying, Mister Larabee?”

“Yup. It’s all right with Vin.”

And Larabee didn’t care whether it was all right with Kevin. He didn’t have to say it.

So now he had his moment. And hadn’t the faintest idea how to begin.

The silence stretched as he searched desperately for inspiration.

“Damn!”

He leaped to his feet and turned sharply to stare out the window. There just wasn’t any way but to be honest, and to hope that Vin and the man who guarded him so carefully would understand.

“Y’ ain’t convinced me there’s anything about you I should care about.”

Despite the tension singing in his nerves, Kevin smiled, the husky voice and its strong drawl recalling sweet, long-buried memories.

“Well, let’s see. You’re twenty-four. Will be twenty-five in, oh, about five months. You were probably born in Houston. Your mother’s name was Veronica—Ronnie—Tanner. Her eyes were the same beautiful blue as yours, and her hair was golden, with that same wavy-curly style as yours. It’s a guess, but I’d bet your full name isn’t Vincent.”

“Shit.”

His smile widened. “It’s Kevin, isn’t it?”

He received no answer, but he was sure he was right.

“I’ll also hazard a guess that your mother told you she’d named you for your father. For the only part of your father’s name she’d ever known.”

“She did.” Vin’s voice was hard and rough as stone.

“So you believe me.”

There was a long moment of hesitation, then the same hard voice said, “Don’t got much choice. Don’t mean I want anything to do with you.”

Kevin bowed his head. “You promised,” he whispered.

“I did. And Tanners don’t go back on their word.” There was no mistaking the emphasis on the name.

“Right. Yes.” He took a deep breath. “Now comes the hard part. I… I’ve been married for more than thirty years. I love my wife and my children dearly.”

He heard one of the men behind him shift abruptly in his chair. Almost reluctantly, he turned back to see Larabee’s hand resting on Vin’s shoulder.

“I love them. Love my wife. But Vin…” He reached his hand out across the table. “Marriages aren’t easy; they take work, they falter. And my marriage is no different than anyone else’s. I made a lot of mistakes, especially in the early years. Some minor, some… dreadful.”

Vin ignored the hand extended to him.

“So, my mama, she was a mistake.”

Kevin leaned his head back, closing his eyes in brief pain. “Oh, yes. In several ways,” he whispered.

Vin lurched to his feet, ready to head out the door.

“No, Vin. You still don’t understand!”

Larabee grabbed Vin’s wrist and tugged.

“C’mon, Vin. You promised to listen.”

“Ain’t gonna listen to him bad-mouth my mama, Chris!”

“No, no, Vin. I meant nothing like that! Please!” He held his breath as Vin slowly lowered himself back into his chair. Those glinting blue eyes showed no softness.

“Vin, she was… Dear God, she was the most wonderful thing I’d ever seen. Beautiful, sweet, uncomplicated. Everything I needed at a really stupid point in my life.” He bowed his head, remembering the delight of Ronnie Tanner. “This isn’t a very original story, son.” Vin’s brows twitched together at the endearment. “I met her… Damn.” He took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts in some way that might explain. “My family’s business is very broad-based, but primarily we deal in international trade. Very successfully. I went into the business right out of college. It was a heady world for an ambitious young man. And I was damned good at it. Threw myself into the business with all the obsession of any passionate young person. Unfortunately, it took me a few years to learn that, exciting as it is, business is a very cold companion.”

Kevin chanced a glance at Vin’s face and saw no signs of yielding. And Larabee was beginning to get that fire-breathing expression.

“Just about twenty-five years ago, things kind of came to a head. I had a successful, growing career, a lovely wife, three beautiful children. But… well, as I said, it takes work to make a marriage thrive, and my attention was, unfortunately, elsewhere. My wife and I went through a very difficult period. At the worst of possible times, I was tagged to represent the business at a major convention in Houston.”

He took a sip of tepid coffee, almost surprised at the tightening in his throat as he remembered the pain of those days, so many years ago. He stared down at the swirling patterns in the surface of the coffee.

“We’d already been fighting. Angela—my wife—was upset about me going to Houston, even more upset when I wouldn’t take her with me. It was a marvelous coup for me—so young, so new to the business, to be given this opportunity. Frankly, I didn’t want to spoil my triumph by having to deal with all the anger and strife. So I left in the midst of a terrible argument. An argument in which Angela mentioned the ‘D’ word.”

“Divorce.”

“Yes, Mister Larabee. So I arrived in Houston buoyed on a crest of self-righteous indignation. I was feeling all of the usual things—resentment at her attempt to interfere with my professional life, anger at her accusation that I was neglecting my family, and utter outrage at her mention of ending our marriage.”

He forced himself to look across the table at the other two men. No hope there.

“The first evening, after all of the meet-and-greet for the convention, I went out alone to get myself a little look at Houston. I ended up in a small café, looking for a late dinner. And that’s where I met her.”

“My mama.”

“Yes. She waited on me. Oh, God, so lovely, utterly charming. And I was feeling so badly treated and sorry for myself. So… I did what so many weak men have done.”

The sound Larabee made defied description.

“I know, I know. When I look back now… I’d thrash one of my sons who did such a thing to any woman, and I’ve never laid a hand on them in their lives. I wish I could say I felt guilty about it at the time, but the truth is that we had nearly a week of total bliss. I’d spend the days doing my duty at the convention, then go to her for the evenings and the nights. I thought I was in love. I was in love. You couldn’t know Ronnie and not love her.”

He winced at Vin’s scornful snort. He stiffened his spine and faced the fury in those glinting eyes, knowing he deserved it.

“I did love her Vin. To this day, I feel nothing but the deepest affection for her. She was such a refuge for me—I could leave the stress and hassle, leave the frustration and anger of my marriage, and escape to the simple beauty of her life. But as I said, I met her at a particularly stupid time in my life.” He shook his head in bemusement. “We even talked about marriage. About forever. And I swear, I meant it. Had I been free…”

“But you weren’t free!” Larabee snarled.

“No.” A flood of sadness dampened his eyes. “And as the end of the week approached, I started to do some very heavy thinking. About Ronnie. And Angela. For a few days, I seriously contemplated tossing it all away to stay with her. But I think I knew, really, right from the start—it was never going to happen. I thought about my wife, and the love I still had for her. I thought about those three beautiful, loving children. And I thought about the priorities in my life. I realized that my wife was right. The work was taking over my life, and I’d never intended for that to happen to me. It happened to my father, and the last thing I wanted was to follow in his footsteps. And I realized that I wasn’t ready to give up on my family. And that, in order to keep them, I was going to have to make some major changes. And of course, I had to face the reality—that if I opted for trying to save what was left of my life, it would mean giving up on any life with Ronnie.”

His hands clenched. No moment in his life was ever going to be as hard as this one.

“And then I did the lowest thing I’ve ever done in my life. My last, true act of cowardice. I just left. Walked out one morning, and never returned. I never called her, never wrote. Worse, I never even tried to discover what had happened to her.”

The silence in the small room was crystalline. He was almost afraid to move for fear of shattering the air into splinters of glass.

“I swear to you, Vin. I had no idea what… If I’d known about you, I swear I’d never have just abandoned her.”

“What the hell difference does that make?”

“It does, Vin. It does. I’d never have left her to raise a child alone, without support.”

“She never gave up. Expected up to the day she died that you’d come back through the door!”

Kevin winced, feeling a tear streak down his cheek.

“Ya left her with a little one comin’ and no-damn-body to take care of her, you bastard!”

“I did.”

“An’ ya left her to get sick and die waiting fer her goddamn Prince Charmin’ to waltz back in the fuckin’ door!”

“I did.” Kevin heard the crack in his voice and dropped his head, letting his tears fall on his folded hands. “Oh, God, Vin. I did. She died, and between the two of us we left you alone.”

Vin lurched to his feet.

“The hell she did! She didn’t have no choice; you did it all your ownself! Hell, I survived. Did okay. But she didn’t! What the hell h…help can a five-year-old kid give to a woman dyin’ of cancer? She needed somebody! An’ it shoulda been you! And you’s sittin’ somewhere in some nice, safe place, playin’ house with your family… your other family… and you left her to die all alone!”

Kevin’s heart squeezed as he saw tears in the eyes of a man he was sure shed very few.

“Vin…”

“Shut up! Ya wanted to tell yer story, an’ ya did! Ain’t heard nothing here makes me see ya as anything different from a selfish bastard who seduced an innocent kid, then left her to try ta mend her life on her own! I listened! Now get the hell outta my life!”

Kevin dropped his forehead down onto his hands, hearing the door slam as Vin stormed out of the room.

“Oh, damn, damn, damn,” he whispered, heart contracting with grief.

“That went well.”

He jerked his head up, surprised to see Larabee still sitting at the head of the table. The green eyes were hard with displeasure, but there was a measure of compassion there as well.

He cleared his throat. “I… I’d hoped I could… I wanted…”

Larabee snorted.

“I did love her; I’d have loved him if I’d known.”

“I believe you.”

“Y… you do?”

“Yup. I figure you’ve had your stupid-as-a-fence-post moments, but I also figure you’re a pretty above-board man.”

“I try to be. That week with Ronnie… it was just a moment, a tiny vacation from reality, but it changed my life. When I got home… well, ever since I’ve tried to put my family before everything. To discover that I’d abandoned a child…” He gulped back a sob.

“Not to mention that child’s mother.”

“Not to mention,” he echoed ruefully. “He’s never going to…”

“I don’t know. Give him some time to cool down and think. He might surprise you. But…” Larabee leaned forward, spearing Kevin with that fierce green glare. “You gotta understand about Vin. He’s the straightest arrow I’ve ever known. ‘Honor’ isn’t a word to him; it’s just how he’s made, right to the core. He’s never gonna understand how you could do what you did.”

“But you can?”

Larabee’s mouth tightened. “In a way. Oh, I was never tempted to wrong my wife the way you did.” Kevin winced at the plain words. “But after she died… well, I went through a time when I did a lot of things I ain’t proud of. But Vin looks past that. Might be he could come to that point with you as well.”

Kevin smiled sadly. “You know, he’s got a half-brother almost exactly his own age.”

Larabee’s brows arched. “A bit of make-up sex?”

“I guess,” Kevin laughed softly. “I told you, I changed things. From the moment I got on that plane back to New Hampshire, I never looked back.” The smile faded. “Wish I’d looked back just a little bit.”

“Could have changed a lot. Vin…” Larabee hesitated for a moment. “Well, Vin’s life hasn’t been easy. He’s been through a lot. But he’s a survivor, and he’s made himself into a hell of a man. A lot of that is owed to the impressions his mother left with him. She’s the angel on his shoulder, and in order to accept you into his life, he’s gonna have to find some way to forgive you for what you did to her. It’s not going to come easy.”

“God, how could he possibly?”

“He’s a fair man, and an honest one. Give him some time.” Larabee leaned back, staring into his empty mug. “I have to admit, I’d like to see Vin with family around him. He deserves…” He waved his hand vaguely. “He deserves the best. So… Convince me you’re the best.”

“The best?” Kevin squeezed his eyes shut, head shaking ruefully. “You heard him. I deserved every bit of it.”

Larabee’s finger tapped absently against the tabletop. “Tell me about your wife and kids.”

Surprised, Kevin stared at him blankly. “M… my wife and kids?”

“Yeah. Tell me about your family.”

“Th… they’re wonderful. Beautiful. I have three sons… Rod and Pat are both in the business, though I’m trying hard to keep them from making the same mistakes I made. Rod and his wife have two children, a five-year-old son and a precious baby girl. Sean…” He couldn’t help the fond smile. “I’m not sure just what Sean is going to do. He’s got no interest in international trade. I’m thinking he’s going to be an artist, but who knows? He idolizes Martin. I live in fear of his announcement that he wants to join the Bureau. And Barbara is currently planning to be the next Bob Woodward.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “She probably will, too.”

He glanced up and was surprised to see a small smile curving Larabee’s lips.

“Sounds like you’re pretty close.”

“Oh, yes. I told you… Ronnie changed my life. I treated her in the worst possible way, but I left Houston really understanding what was important.”

“So… you’ve been making up for her for the last twenty-five years?”

“No!” He stopped, mind spinning. “Well… maybe a bit. But to be depressingly honest, I’ve done my best just to forget about her. I… I don’t like feeling so ashamed of myself, and every moment I remember my shame deepens.”

Larabee gazed at him silently for a long moment, then nodded sharply.

“You in town for a few days?”

“I’m in town for as long as I want to be. Tell me there’s a reason to stay, and I’ll be here.”

“Fine. Let me see how things go with Vin. I’ll let you know if there’s any point in you talking to him again. I can’t promise anything, but like I said, he’s a fair and honest man. Don’t expect him to fall into your arms, but it might be that I can convince him to give a little. To at least get to know you a bit.”

Kevin leaned across the table, offering his hand. Larabee gripped it firmly, then stood.

“I can’t thank you enough, Mister Larabee. I… I’m desperate to put this right as much as is possible. I won’t expect a miracle, but I want this son.” He reached into his pocket for his notebook. “Here’s my…”

“No need.” Larabee was grinning. “JD’s already got it.”

Kevin’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and Larabee laughed softly.

“I told you I’d checked you out.”

“Yes. I see.”

Larabee pushed the door open, waiting for Kevin to round the table and precede him out into the common area.

Kevin moved past him, took a step—and stopped dead, speared by five hard, accusing gazes.

“Ease off, boys.”

“Not ‘til we know what’s goin’ on, Chris.” The big man with the moustache was rolling a stapler around in his hand like a pitcher finding the seams for a screwball.

“Vin’s business, Buck.”

“I think under the circumstances it has become all our business, Mister Larabee.” He’d never imagined a southern drawl could have such hard edges. “Takin’ into account this… gentleman’s appearance, the disturbing fragments we could not avoid hearin’ over the last few minutes, and Mister Tanner’s highly agitated state as he departed these premises, the essence of the situation is relatively clear. What is not clear is just how concerned we should be about the impact of these events on Mister Tanner’s mental state. He was definitely not his usual amiable self when he fled the office.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t Ezra. There are some… upsetting things going on right now. But it’s still Vin’s business, and until he wants to explain, you’re going to have to be satisfied. So all of you… back off.”

Reluctantly, the five men took a couple of steps back. Kevin glanced around the hostile circle as he stepped rather nervously through them toward the glass doors.

Most definitely, family or no family, Vin was very much not alone.

Chris watched Lloyd’s well-tailored back disappear toward the elevators, then turned to meet the accusing eyes of his team.

He raised his hands defensively as all five burst into speech.

“Enough!” he shouted over the babble. “You know all you’re gonna know until Vin’s ready to talk about this, so give it up!”

“Who the hell is that guy, Chris?” Buck’ moustache was quivering with anger.

Chris glanced at JD, who met his eyes without wavering. Chris hoped his own warning was clear.

“Won’t kill you to wonder for a few days, Buck. And I ain’t gonna say this again. This is Vin’s business, and it just ain’t up to me or anyone else to explain it to you.”

“He was damned upset when he ran out of here, Chris.”

“I’m not surprised, Josiah. He’s got some heavy stuff to work through. And on that note… I’m pretty sure all of you have some stuff you’re supposed to be working through. So get to it. And for now, just mind your own damn business and leave Vin to mind his.”

Reluctantly, with more than a few resentful glances directed his way, the five returned to their desks and the interrupted tasks waiting there.

Chris waited until they were all settled in, then returned to his office. He closed the door behind him and eased into the chair behind the desk. For a moment, he just sat, regarding the already well-thumbed stack of documentation spread over the blotter. Then he reached for the phone.

He wasn’t surprised to hear uninterrupted ringing, or to find himself listening to Vin’s terse recorded response.

“Hey Cowboy. Thought I’d knock off a bit early and maybe take a ride this afternoon. Those two lugheads are gettin’ a bit too frisky. Need the edges run off. Should be saddlin’ up about four.”

He left it at that, disconnecting a bit reluctantly. Vin would come, or he wouldn’t. And he was going to play this Vin’s way as much as he could.

Chris grabbed the stack of information JD had given him—the life and times of one Kevin Lloyd. Shuffling through the pages, he located the one bit of information he wanted, and copied the numbers onto a piece of notepaper.

Standing, he scooped up the scattered printouts, knocked them into a neat stack and slid them into a manila envelope. He tore the scrap of paper off the notepad, folded it and shoved it into his pants pocket. Tucking the folder under his arm, he headed out, appointing Josiah as his stand-in as he strode through the outer office.

He didn’t explain where he was going. The others didn’t ask—just exchanged a few knowing glances.

He’d taken his time grooming the two horses, enjoying the feel of sleek, healthy hair over rippled muscle. His wristwatch had found and passed four o’clock quite a few minutes ago. With a sigh, Chris ran his fingers through Peso’s glossy tail, thoughts fixed on his missing companion.

“Guess you’re stayin’ behind, mule.”

He ducked under the crossties, heading for the tack room and his gear.

“Shit!” he snarled, finding himself face to face with a tooled black saddle.

“Thought you’s expectin’ me, Larabee.” Vin’s mouth quirked into his crooked grin.

“I’m gonna hang a damn bell around your neck, Tanner!” Chris lifted the saddle from Vin’s hands, grabbing his saddle blanket from across the Texan’s shoulder. “And you can saddle your own damned horse.”

Laughing, Vin headed back for the tack room and his own equipment.

Chris smiled as he tightened the cinch, enjoying the soft murmurs as Vin handled his beloved horse. No wonder the big lug was spoiled.

Tacked up, they walked the horses out of the barn and mounted. Chris grinned and relaxed on Pony’s back as Peso went through his obligatory expressions of individuality. How Vin could sit so calmly on top of the crow hopping and bucking he’d never figure out. Once the horse had indulged himself, they headed through the gate into the pasture, aiming for the gates at the high end and the unfenced preserve territory beyond.

In the sheltering quiet of the forest, they didn’t speak. They were comfortable in the silence, at peace with each other and the cool, fresh beauty around them. It had been like this between them from the start—a meeting of souls whose connection went far deeper than simple conversation.

For an hour, they rode wordlessly, side by side. Chris could feel the tension that lay just beneath the surface in his friend’s mind. But Vin would talk when he was ready. He could wait.

The dense forest gradually thinned as they approached the small emergency air strip which had been Chris’s target for their ride. Chris glanced to the side, frowning at the grim set to Vin’s mouth.

“Hey!”

Vin’s head jerked up at Chris’s exclamation.

“Last one to the other end cooks dinner!”

With the last words, Chris tightened his legs, urging Pony into a gallop.

“No fair!” Vin shouted, setting Peso off on Pony’s heels.

Chris laughed and bent low over the horn, crooning to his horse, begging more speed.

His exuberance increased as Vin and Peso pulled alongside. Pony was fast, but Peso was faster. Chris knew it—knew he wasn’t going to win this race, any more than he and Pony had won any other race against the other pair. But that wasn’t the point.

Vin’s body was stretched out along Peso’s neck, head flung back, hair flying wildly as they ran over the flat dirt surface of the airstrip. Peso snorted every three or four strides, happily flinging himself over the ground, spending some of that mischievous energy he accumulated so easily.

And Vin was spending energy as well, hooting and taunting as his horse pulled ahead of Pony.

They reached the far end of the strip, horses blowing and prancing, both men laughing and teasing. Nothing like two-thirds of a mile of tension dispersion.

“Ya feedin’ ol’ Pony too much, pard?”

“Not likely! He just don’t wanna put his rump in range of those teeth.”

“Ha!” Vin was still laughing as he once again rode through Peso’s expressions of his exuberance.

“Damn, Cowboy, how the hell does your back survive that?”

“He’s just feelin’ good, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, he’s feelin’ good. You’re likely heading for traction.”

Vin grinned at him as Peso finally left all four feet on the ground.

“Well, my bones ain’t so old as some folks’s, I reckon.”

“You lookin’ for extra duty, Agent Tanner?”

“Nope. Lookin’ for a nice, sixteen ounce steak, coupla baked potatoes, corn bread, maybe some peach pie.”

Chris snorted. “Well, I can probably supply the potatoes.”

“Hey, Peso here just won me dinner!”

“I figure Peso just won him dinner. And I got no problem providing hay and oats.”

“You been taking shyster lessons from ol’ Ez, pard. Dinner. Or ya better start bein’ careful sittin’ down at your desk.”

“Mercy! Dinner, I promise.” Chris laughed, shaking his head at the memory of some of the outstanding practical jokes Vin’s clever brain had fostered over the last couple of years.

They dismounted and loosened their cinches, leading the horses back down the length of the airfield. As before, they were comfortable with silence. Chris felt a quiet contentment settle on his mind as he felt the calm ease of his friend. 

The horses were cool and breathing easily by the time they reached the edge of the forest, so they tightened up and remounted, still without exchanging a word. Both horses were calmer after their run, and seemed content to amble back toward home and the hay and oats their comfortable stalls promised.

Chris was conscious of a frisson of regret as they approached the upper gate into his field. Leaving the woods behind meant returning to the issues of the day. He watched as Vin and Peso opened the gate, waited again as they closed it after passing through. They walked the horses, side by side, through the pasture grass, then repeated the gate ritual at the gate beside the barn.

Chris dismounted outside the barn door, then turned to look up at Vin, still sitting in the saddle, gaze fixed on some distant point.

“Hey, pard.” Chris kept his voice soft and sympathetic.

“He gone?”

Chris hesitated for a moment, then told the truth. “Nope. Said he’d stay in town for a while, just in case you changed your mind.”

Vin finally turned his eyes down to meet Chris’s.

“He done wrong.”

“He sure as hell did, Vin.”

Vin’s brows tweaked together.

“Don’t seem like a bad man.”

“Nope. But sometimes good men do bad things.”

“They do.”

Vin lifted his chin, shifting his gaze back to whatever faraway image he was seeing.

Chris waited a long moment, then turned to lead Pony into the barn.

“Cowboy?”

He turned back quickly, finding himself speared by that clear, blue gaze.

Silently, Vin held out his hand.

A smile crept over Chris’s mouth, and he reached into his pocket, wrestling out a small piece of paper on which was written a telephone number.

~End—for now~