Code of Honor

FOUR

Selena sat up in the big teakwood four-poster bed on the second floor of Brice’s house, wondering how she’d managed to get herself in such a fix. She didn’t want to be like Rapunzel, trapped in the castle, but between Brice and her father, she didn’t have much of a choice right now. Too exhausted to argue after all the excitement of this day, she’d meekly come upstairs to try and get some sleep. But she couldn’t relax, so she held her Bible close like a shield, trying to find comfort in the Scriptures.

But even her nightly ritual of reading verses before she went to sleep couldn’t calm her. Her skin crawled with tension as she relived seeing her car explode and finding Charles lying on the floor of the shed. When she remembered the long bloody gash on Brice’s cheek and thought about how much worse it could have been, she shivered in her soft fluffy bathrobe.

Ye shall not fear them: for the Lord your God he shall fight for you. That passage from Deuteronomy should bring her comfort, but she was still afraid. Not so much for herself as for those trying to protect her. Especially for Brice. He was so fearless, so focused, that he’d do anything to protect her. Even put his life on the line.

At least Charles was all right. He’d be sore tomorrow and his right ankle was bruised so he’d have to stay off of it for a couple of days. After they brought him to the house and checked him over yet again, Charles had refused any further medical help. So Betty had taken him to their room near the kitchen while everyone else settled down to dinner. But Selena barely managed to eat a bite of the hearty stew and freshly baked bread Adele and Mrs. Sager had offered. She was too keyed up, too worried.

And she was still worried right now.

Because she hadn’t told Brice everything.

And after what Charles had described, she was afraid to tell Brice or anyone else the rest. Afraid that if she voiced what she believed to be true, she’d put Brice and both their families in even more danger. And bring down the law on her beloved clinic, too. She couldn’t tell anyone anything until she had proof. And so she waited and wondered. She’d enlisted help on this and had given what could become important evidence to a confidant to analyze, and now she was waiting for a report back. It wasn’t that she wanted to deliberately keep anything from Brice. This was just curiosity. Or so she had thought until today. When would she hear? And how could she keep everyone safe until she had answers?

Glancing over at the battered, buttery soft, tan leather tote bag she always carried, she wondered how long she could keep her secret hidden away. What if someone tried to attack her again? What if someone got their hands on that bag? Was that why these people had tried to harm her?

And what about Charles and that sound they’d heard tonight, like a bird cawing or a cat’s loud meowing, a loud sharp sound that had spooked Charles enough to make him stumble and fall. Selena and Brice had heard it too—faint and echoing—so it was hard to say. But she had heard such sounds in the jungle, and something about this particular cry tonight caused her heart to chill like a chunk of ice inside her body. She’d heard a bone-chilling cry right before her village had been attacked.

An awful, high-pitched wail that even now sent shivers up and down her spine because Selena was pretty sure the shrilling call had been made by a human being. Had it been a warning or an alert? She may never know. She only knew that right after she’d heard that sound echoing throughout the rain forest, her world had shifted and changed and she’d lost Diego. And any hopes of staying in Argentina. And now she was harboring secrets that could possibly cause her to lose her nursing license for good. And the clinic too.

What should she tell Brice?

Getting up now, Selena padded toward the chair where she’d dropped the tote, her hand reaching for the thick strap. She’d have to find a new hiding place. A knock at the door caused her to pull her hand away as if she’d touched a snake. But maybe what she’d found was worse than a snake’s bite—evil and sneaky and destructive.

Pulling her robe around her cotton pajamas, she went to the door. “Yes?”

“It’s only me, luv.”

Brice. Her heart caught in a grip of fear and trepidation. Should she be honest with him?

“Not just yet,” she whispered. She’d do a little more snooping of her own before she’d involved Brice in this. No need to get everyone all riled up on just a suspicion and something she’d found by accident. And she had no way of knowing if what they’d heard tonight had indeed been the same type of call that she had heard down in the jungle. All sorts of wildlife inhabited the woods around Brice’s estate. She should know—she’d gone traipsing around with him here many times. Maybe this had been some sort of night creature. Maybe no one human had been out there in the woods.

She shivered again.

“Selena?”

He had never been a patient man.

She opened the door, a slight smile hiding the dread coursing through her system. “I’m right here, safe and sound.”

“Don’t scare me like that,” he said, coming inside the room, his gaze scanning the big bay window and the stained glass patio doors across from the bed. Stomping to the window, he made sure the brocade curtains were pulled together. “And don’t go out onto the balcony alone.”

Selena watched him, knowing he was only concerned for her safety. And because of that concern, he looked a bit wild and disheveled, and about as hyper as she was right now. She needed to be kind and at least grateful, even if she did feel trapped by CHAIM’s need to always be on the lookout for danger.

“I won’t go out onto the porch, I promise. Even if that balcony does remind me of Romeo and Juliet.”

He whirled, his hands on his hips, his eyes moving over her. “I put you here because I remembered that you liked the balcony, but you’re also safer on this level and it’s not that far from my suite down the hall—if you need me.” He left that statement hanging in the air for a few seconds, then asked, “Are you all settled in, then?”

She took in the big room with the oversized antique furnishings and the striking Sir Frank Dicksee painting over the bed. It depicted a knight and his lady—La Belle Dame sans Merci. The irony of that vivid portrait weighed on her soul tonight. The beautiful one without mercy. Was she betraying Brice by not being completely honest with him?

“I’m nicely settled,” she replied, hoping her tone sounded neutral and upbeat. “And I didn’t mean what I said earlier about this being a Tudor-style prison. Your home has always been comfortable.”

His brow furrowed. “But?”

“But, Brice, I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m not used to such close observation. This happened so suddenly, my head is still spinning. You’ll have to give me a little time to get adjusted to this new arrangement.”

“Take all the time you need—just be careful and stay alert.”

“I’ve always been careful and alert, especially when I was working down in Argentina. But this is different.”

He put his hands on his hips in that Brice way she knew so well, his head lowered as he gazed over at her. “You feel as if your life had been taken from you?”

She nodded, then sank down on a bronze-colored brocade loveseat tossed with burgundy and gold pillows. “Yes. I’m a nurse. That’s what I do. I don’t understand how these ruthless criminals could possibly hold that against me. I’m all about saving people, not destroying them.”

He came over to sit beside her. “They don’t like us having a presence down there, luv. They can’t get away with their dirty work if we get in the way.” He leaned back, fatigue pulling at his features. “It would help with our investigation here if you could remember something, anything that might have provoked this attack.”

Selena glanced toward her bag, wondering why she couldn’t just show Brice what she’d found and tell him her suspicions, maybe tell him about her own independent investigation. But what if she was wrong? That would open up a whole new set of problems. Better to wait until the right time to figure this out, if ever. “I don’t know,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze. “It all happened so fast. One day we were going about our business, examining patients, and the next, this gang of militants came crashing through the jungle and out into the village to destroy what we’d worked so hard to build, not only our physical buildings but the trust of the natives, too. I’m sure the camp is gone by now since everyone abandoned it the minute the shooting started. Even me.”

Brice’s finger on her chin brought her head around. “I haven’t told you this because I didn’t want you to worry, but I sent reinforcements down there to help the locals. They got as many of them to safety as they could. But you’re right, most had scattered and couldn’t be found.” Rubbing his finger down her cheek with a feathery touch, he said, “I did try, cara. I did it for you. And I did it because it’s not my nature to leave any innocents behind.”

“Oh, Brice.” Selena pulled him close, hugging him tight as she’d done so many times in her life. But this time, this time when she lifted her head, her eyes meeting his, a surge of longing and need rushed through her, a feeling that was both foreign and familiar, both joyful and frightening. And from the shattered, searching look in Brice’s eyes, he felt the same. Bewildered, Selena pulled away. “I appreciate that. The villagers have been on my mind. I wish—”

“I know what you wish, but you can’t go back there. Not now, maybe not ever.” He got up, as if the awareness they’d just felt had scorched him with its power. He paced, as was his nature, his hands fidgety, his eyes flashing. He pushed at his tousled hair. “Right now, we have to focus on finding out who tampered with your car. I’m thinking it was either a pipe bomb or some sort of backpack hidden underneath the chassis. Once we know for sure, we move from there. Maybe it will be local and a random thing, but I doubt that. I’m pretty sure it was a message from Los Andedores del Noche—”

“The Night Walkers,” Selena translated, recalling the notorious Brazilian gang of smugglers. “They never bothered us before.”

“There’s a first time for everything, luv. Especially when criminals are involved.”

A cold reality seeped over Selena while she watched Brice trying to focus on the problem at hand. He wasn’t ready to get any closer to her because he had a job to do—and this time the job involved her. He’d always taken his CHAIM oath very seriously and this had caused Selena to never take him seriously—as anything other than a good friend. They were still that—just good friends. She was projecting her fears into something more—this strong bond between them would naturally grow in the midst of all this danger. But Brice would always put duty first. She’d be wise to remember that.

“What about you?” she asked to hide her disappointment and this unfamiliar longing. “Don’t you need to get back to Ireland and Whelan Wool?”

“Whelan Wool runs itself,” he replied, his pacing only adding to her awareness of him. “I have the best management team in the world and I’ll be in constant contact with them, no doubt. They’re used to me being absent a lot.”

“But you love the shearing season, Brice. You love getting down and dirty and working along with your men.”

“Aye, that I do. But I love—” He stopped, his gaze moving over the room, one hand lifting out in the air. “But I have a responsibility to you right now, and besides, it’s a couple of months before shearing starts back up. So don’t you worry about any of this.”

“While you take on the burden?” she asked, seeing him in a whole new light. Or rather, seeing the light that shined through his character much more clearly now.

“You’re no burden, cara. None a’tall.”

With that, he bent to kiss her on the cheek. “Sleep well, princess. And say your prayers.”

And then he left her sitting there, staring after him with her guilt and her secrets pressing on her soul.

Brice couldn’t sleep. So he walked the perimeters of the property, checking on concealed cameras, securing already secure high fences. This rambling old house had belonged to his mother’s side of the family for close to one hundred years. After his father died a few years ago, Adele had immediately come home to Atlanta. She could always be found here when she wasn’t traveling or visiting Whelan Castle in western Ireland.

Adele loved the castle and its rich heritage, but unlike Brice, she couldn’t stay there in seclusion for months on end. And while she supported Whelan Wool and traveled as a spokesperson to promote the farm and their mills, she would never understand Brice’s need to work with his hands on the land that had been in his family for centuries. That didn’t matter to Brice. He didn’t mind living in two worlds. His CHAIM duties had him traveling all over the world anyway.

So besides the obvious, he couldn’t figure out why he was so on edge tonight. He longed to be back in Ireland, working the farm, watching his sheep dogs, Greta and Piper, corner a herd of blackface ewes and yearlings to help him bring them down from the mountains. Okay, so he missed Ireland; that was nothing new. And while he loved the cosmopolitan energy and urban intensity of Atlanta, his time here now wasn’t turning out to be a relaxing, fun visit.

He stopped, the dark night surrounding him as a thousand nocturnal sounds assaulted his senses. Living near the Chattahoochee River made for interesting late-night walks. But tonight even the creatures scurrying and singing all around him couldn’t put Brice on such high alert. No, something else was nagging at his soul right now.

Yes, he was worried. About Selena. About these nasty people who seemed determined to scare her and possibly harm her. But there was something else hanging like a loose vine near his consciousness. And Brice wouldn’t sleep until he could pinpoint that something else.

So he walked and listened and went over everything in his mind. Selena’s SUV had been bombed in a bad area of downtown Atlanta, and a few hours later, an unusual sound had come from the back of Brice’s estate north of the city. The bombing was surely a cause for concern, but something about the incident tonight bugged Brice. Charles was a naturalist and outdoorsman. That man knew every kind of bird call and every kind of animal cry in Georgia and beyond. So why had he been so spooked by what he’d heard tonight?

And what about Selena? She’d been as shaky as Charles by the time they’d taken the golf cart back to the house. At the time, Brice had chalked it up to the events of the day. But now…he had to wonder if he’d missed something.

Selena was usually very cool under pressure, especially when she was with a patient. She was a top-notch R.N., one of the best. But tonight, she’d been too skittish when she’d examined Charles. Normally, she would have insisted on getting her patient to a doctor. Maybe Charles had convinced her differently, or maybe she’d been too flustered to think straight.

Brice stopped again, then looked up toward the room where a light still burned. Selena’s room. She was trapped up there like a princess in a castle. And her fears seemed trapped inside her memories and her mind.

Then he understood. She wasn’t telling him everything. He could sense that each time he asked her about her memories. He’d interrogated enough people in his life to know when someone was being evasive. And he’d noticed a sense of guilt floating like an aura all around Selena each time he asked her for more details. Was Selena withholding information on purpose? Or was she just confused and scared?

Why would she hide things from him, of all people?

Maybe because she didn’t want him to find out the truth?

That was the thing. Selena and he had shared a lot during their years as friends. What would make her clam up now, when he needed to know everything in order to help her? It didn’t make sense.

Unless she was trying to protect someone else.

He thought of a James Joyce poem—“Alone.” “The sly reeds whisper in the night. A name—her name—”

Selena. That was the name calling to him tonight.

Brice grunted, kicked at the soft grass at his feet. He didn’t like being so helpless and feeling so alone. He needed answers. But how could he get those answers if the woman he was trying to protect didn’t want to tell him the truth? What could be so scary or so important that she felt the need to keep it to herself?

Saying a prayer for help from a higher source, Brice took a long, calming breath and asked God to guide him. Then he stared up at the big bay window and wondered what secrets Selena had brought home from Argentina.

And he wondered how he’d ever convince her to let go of those secrets so he could help her and protect her.

FIVE

“Is this really necessary?”

Selena glanced over at the stoic man driving her to work. “Brice, are you listening to me?”

His sigh slid out through a muttered “Aye.” Watching the rush hour traffic on Interstate 75, he said, “But you obviously haven’t been listening to me. I’m going to be with you, day and night, in one way or another.”

Selena groaned her own frustration. “We were together on your estate all weekend, Brice. And nothing else out of the ordinary happened. Do you really think it’s necessary to stay with me at the clinic all day long, too?”

“Yes, I do.” He merged onto Peachtree and sat silent in the stop-and-go traffic, then finally turned off onto a side street that took them into an aged, boarded-up neighborhood. “My estate is airtight and heavy on security, but working in this part of the city makes you an open target. It was too easy for someone to walk right up to your car and stick explosives underneath it.”

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