The Return of Connor Mansfield. Beth Cornelison

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СКАЧАТЬ You have one of those, right?”

      “Can I tell Tracy?” Grant asked. “I don’t like the idea of keeping something this big from my wife. She won’t say anything.”

      “And what about my family? My mom and sisters?” Darby asked. “They should know. Especially since Savannah knows him as her uncle Connor. If he does end up donating his marrow, I’d think it would come out.”

      “No!” Raleigh said with a huff of frustration. “We need to shut this down. It doesn’t go any further than this room.” He pointed at Connor, adding, “And you should have kept to your cover with the little girl. Big mistake telling her your name was Connor.”

      “I told her that because she recognized the family resemblance. She knew I was a Mansfield brother before I opened my mouth.” Connor tapped his fist on the kitchen table and divided a look between the marshals. “Here’s the deal. Half of the family knows I’m alive. Protecting my cover made sense when we thought I could slip into town, meet with the doctor and get out again without anyone knowing the truth. I didn’t consider the fact that my DNA test would rat me out or that the doctor’s office would call Darby about the discrepancy in what she’d told them about Savannah’s father.”

      He rubbed a hand along his cheek, weighing his options, and when he encountered the prosthetic beard, he groaned and peeled it off. “At this point, I can’t see any point in keeping up the charade. I say let Grant tell Tracy. Let Darby tell her family. They need to be aware of the potential threat so that they can take necessary precautions. And as Darby pointed out, if I do donate my marrow to Savannah, it will be harder to keep my identity secret.”

      “You really think these men, the Gale brothers, will come after you?” his mother asked.

      “I do. They think I betrayed them.”

      “They have a history of going after people they feel have crossed them,” Jones said, his jaw tense. “We have to take the threats they made against Sam seriously.”

      “His name is Connor,” Darby said with a defiant glare.

      “Not anymore,” Jones countered.

      “All right.” Connor raised his hands, signaling for a ceasefire. “I think, despite our intentions, the horse is out of the barn as far as my cover goes.”

      “He’s right.” Jones gave Raleigh a level look, then turned an accusing glare at Darby.

      She recognized the accusation and sat taller, stiffening, her expression defensive as she sputtered, “I didn’t—the doctor’s office called me and—how was I to know—”

      “It’s not your fault. No one’s blaming you.” Connor sent Jones a hard look and put a supportive hand on Darby’s arm, which she jerked away. “But you raise another good point. Savannah’s doctor needs to know the truth. My biological connection to Savannah could be relevant to Savannah’s care. Also however many members of her staff as needed to contain the speculation already circulating in the office.”

      Raleigh rocked back on two legs of his chair, scrubbing both hands over his face. “God bless America, Sam. What happened to staying in town only long enough to talk to the kid’s doctor then getting the hell outta Dodge? You can make the donation from Dallas, can’t you?”

      All eyes swung toward Connor, and his pulse rose, torn between what he knew would keep his family safe and his selfish desire to stay and get to know his daughter, patch things up with Darby, spend precious time with his family.

      “Yeah, the doctor said I could donate from Dallas, if I proved a close enough match.” A stir of reaction interrupted him, sighs of disappointment from his parents, grunts of satisfaction from the agents. He looked to Darby, needing some measure of where her heart was. Her jaw was tight with stubborn anger, but her green eyes were full of pain and discontent. “But she also said the ideal arrangement, the way she preferred, was for me to be here.”

      As he repeated the doctor’s words, a certainty washed through him, a resolve that settled the debate warring inside him. “I want only the best for Savannah. If I can be my daughter’s donor, I’ll do it from here. Even if it is only marginally better logistically, I want ideal circumstances for my little girl.”

      Darby’s expression was conflicted. The struggle between gratitude and resentment, fear and hope, grief and joy was plain in her eyes. Connor’s chest ached for the hurt he’d caused her, the doubts and bitterness he was responsible for.

      Raleigh shook his head, clearly unhappy with Connor’s decision. “Do you understand what you’re risking?”

      “Of course I do. And I’m not saying I plan to wave a red flag in front of Gale Industries. I’ll lay low, take precautions, continue wearing a disguise in public.” He flicked his hand toward the fake beard in front of him. “Whatever it takes.” He leaned forward, drilling Raleigh with a hard stare and jabbing his finger into the table. “But I need you to protect my family. I need you to make sure the Gales don’t get anywhere near Darby or Savannah or any of the people I love.”

      “Our job is to protect you,” Raleigh countered. “And the best way to do that is to get you back to Dallas and try to minimize the exposure from the cracks in your cover.”

      “I’m not leaving Lagniappe until I’ve done all I can to save Savannah.” He hoped his tone conveyed his determination on that point. “Maybe that will be tomorrow, if I’m not a close enough match to her. But if I am, I need to know you’ll do everything in your power to keep my family safe while I’m here.”

      Jones drummed the table with his thumb. “We’re only two people, man. We’re good, but we’re not superhuman. We’ll do what we can to minimize the threat to your family, but we can’t be everywhere. You’re still our priority, the witness in WitSec, and where our efforts have to be focused.”

      “So bring in more men. Or I’ll hire private security.”

      Jones raised a hand. “No. No outside hires.” He glanced briefly to Raleigh for some silent confirmation or perhaps giving him a chance to object. “We’ll see about getting a little backup, but the department is stretched kinda thin these days.”

      Connor’s father, Stan, had been taking in the conversation from the opposite end of the table, his arms folded over his chest and his intense scrutiny shifting from one speaker to another. Now he pushed his chair back and stood. “Bring in extra men if you want, but don’t underestimate the ability of the Mansfield men to protect our own.”

      Grant had been leaning against the kitchen counter. Now he stepped forward, nodding. “That’s right. Every one of the men in this family is trained in firearms and licensed to carry concealed. Dad spent fifteen years in the army, and Hunter spent five years in the reserves. I’ve been hunting since I was twelve.”

      “What’s the saying?” Connor’s mother asked. “Forewarned is forearmed.”

      The marshals exchanged another unreadable look.

      “Well, being alert to problems will certainly help, but these men are professional killers, not common street thugs.” Raleigh rose from the table. “Let me make a few calls, see about getting an extra team down here.”

      “Then we should head back to the hotel soon,” Jones said, sending Connor a direct look.

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