The Return of Connor Mansfield. Beth Cornelison
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СКАЧАТЬ for him. Savannah already had a purple mustache from her juice, and Connor chuckled. “Looks like you’re wearing your juice.”

      “Oops!” She giggled and swiped at her face with her arm.

      His own beard and mustache, prosthetics he’d put on that morning with Raleigh’s help to aid in his disguise, itched. He looked forward to pulling off the faux facial hair at the first chance he got.

      “Napkin,” Darby said from the kitchen.

      Savannah reached for a napkin, her hand flapping against the table when she came up short. Connor handed her one and pulled another for himself. He found himself staring at the fragile little girl he’d helped create, marveling at every freckle, every precocious gesture. And worrying over every obvious sign of her illness. The hair loss, the shadows beneath her gold eyes, the red needle marks and bruising on her arms where she’d obviously been stuck for blood draws and chemotherapy treatment.

      Leukemia. His gut twisted. His baby had cancer. How had Darby managed these past months with that dark diagnosis? Bile churned inside him. He should have been here, should have been with Darby, sharing the burden, supporting her.

      Hell, he should have been here for Savannah’s birth, her first steps, her first words. When his sinuses burned with his rising grief, he gritted his back teeth, forcing down the sting of tears and regret. He hated all the milestones he’d missed, but he couldn’t let his daughter see his sorrow.

      Someone pounded on Darby’s back door, then threw it open with a crash. “Darby!”

      Connor stiffened, recognizing the voice.

      “Grandma!” Savannah chirped.

      “Darby, is it true? Is Connor—” His mother burst into the kitchen from the mudroom. With a gasp, she staggered to a stop when she spotted him and wheezed, “Alive.”

      Chapter 6

      Connor shoved to his feet, caught off guard by his mother’s arrival. “Mom, how—?”

      “Look, Gwandma!” Savannah pointed to him, beaming proudly. “It’s my new uncle Connuh.”

      Tears puddled in Julia Mansfield’s eyes, and she raised a trembling hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Praise the Lord! My sweet boy.”

      She rushed forward, folding him in a hug. He squeezed her back, both overjoyed to see her and confused by her appearance.

      “But how did you know?” Connor divided an irritated glance between Hunter and Darby over his mother’s head. One of the two had to have told her, breaking their promise and blowing his cover.

      Darby hurried into the breakfast area from the kitchen, frowning. “Hunter, I told you not to say anything!”

      Hunter raised his palms, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t—” He stopped suddenly, his face going slack as he groaned. “Oh, wait.” He winced and sent Connor a guilty grimace. “I texted her earlier.” He looked to Darby. “After you got that call from the doctor’s office about the DNA test results.”

      Darby’s shoulders sagged, and Connor blew out a frustrated breath. His mother pulled back from her embrace and gave him a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? What’s going on?”

      “Uh, Savannah, honey.” Darby pulled back the girl’s chair and lifted her down “Why don’t you take Uncle Hunter to your room for a while?”

      “Mom texted me this morning wanting to know when Savannah would be going home,” Hunter said, still explaining. “I told her you’d left. Told her about the call. I—”

      Outside, car doors slammed, and Connor tensed.

      “That’ll be your father and Grant,” his mother said. “I called the office on my way here, and they said they’d be right behind me.”

      “Julia? Darby?” his father called as he and Grant hurried through the back door. They stopped and scanned the room full of faces, their expressions eager. “Where is he?”

      In seconds, the volume in the kitchen rose exponentially as everyone began talking on top of each other and emotions swelled.

      “Connor! We thought you were dead!”

      “I don’t understand. Where have you been?”

      “Mommy, can Uncle Connuh play with me? Mommy?”

      “Hunter, please take Savannah to her room.”

      “Honest, Con, I texted her before I knew—”

      From the living room, Raleigh and Jones appeared, clearly having heard the commotion. “What the hell?” Raleigh growled. “Sam, who are these people? And what part of ‘you can’t tell anyone you’re alive’ did you interpret as ‘have a welcome home party?’”

      Her eyes wide, Savannah shrank behind Darby as the two large men in scrubs, strangers to her, stormed in and barked at him. The fright in his daughter’s eyes was the last straw.

      Stan Mansfield, Connor’s father, stepped toward Raleigh, his shoulders back. “I could ask the same of you. Who—?”

      Connor put his thumb and finger in his mouth and whistled for quiet. “That’s enough!”

      Everyone settled down, facing him with startled looks.

      “You’re scaring Savannah,” he said, casting a warning gaze to the offending adults. Moving to kneel by his daughter, he tugged lightly on her sleeve. “Hey, sweetie, sorry about all that noise. I believe your mom asked you to take Uncle Hunter to your room for a while. Why don’t you do that now?”

      Savannah bobbed her head, then asked softly, “Will you play with me, too?”

      He smiled and stroked her arm. “I would love to. Let me finish talking to the grown-ups, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Okay?”

      Hunter took his cue and lifted Savannah into his arms, tickling her side. “Come on, princess, I was hoping I’d get the chance to kick your tail at Chutes and Ladders.”

      “No, I’m gonna kick your tail!” Savannah said with a grin.

      Darby sent him a grudging half smile. “Thanks.”

      He pushed to his feet and squeezed Darby’s arm. “We’re on the same side.”

      “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” his mother asked, her voice cracking. “Connor, who are these men? Why did they call you Sam? Where have you been all these years?” She paused and wiped at her eyes, then in a lower voice asked, “Are you in the CIA?”

      Connor chuckled as he faced his mother. “No, Mom. Not the CIA.” He took a deep breath. “I’m in WitSec.”

      Connor spent the next hour explaining his situation to his family, despite the marshals’ objections. “They might as well hear the truth,” he’d countered. “They know I’m alive, and the best way to reign in the situation now is to lay out the stakes, give them СКАЧАТЬ