Storm Clouds
Cheryl Wolverton
VOICE FROM THE PASTAn urgent call from a brother Angelina Harding hadn't seen in years brought her thousands of miles to Australia. Only to find Marcus gone.DANGER IN THE PRESENTWhat was a former Secret Service agent to do? Ditching the men who ambushed her at the airport was a start. But it was only with the help of her brother's friend, David Lemming, that Angelina had a chance to find Marcus.QUESTION FOR THE FUTUREAcross the Outback…and into the enemy's lair, Angelina raced against time – but her brother wasn't the only one at risk. Angelina's life, her new romantic interest…and perhaps even her country were on the line this time.
PRAISE FOR CHERYL WOLVERTON
“This tender tale…is a suspenseful and enjoyable read.”
—Romantic Times on Shelter from the Storm
“A captivating delight. Among the Tulips is a heartwarming Cinderella story for the keeper shelf. (41?2 stars)”
—Romantic Times
“What an incredible, spiritual journey for readers.”
—Romance Reader on the Run on A Wife for Ben
“Ms. Wolverton’s love of writing and joy in God once again shines through In Search of a Hero.”
—Scribesworld
“For Love of Zach delivers a great beginning that gains momentum all the way to the conclusion.”
—Romantic Times
“Ms. Wolverton does a lovely job of demonstrating how two Christians turn to the Lord for help with their innermost struggles in this warm, touching and fun book.”
—Romantic Times on A Father’s Love
CHERYL WOLVERTON
RITA® Award finalist Cheryl Wolverton has well over a dozen books to her name. Her very popular Hill Creek, Texas, series has finaled in many contests. Having grown up in Oklahoma, lived in Kentucky, Texas, Louisiana and now living once more in Oklahoma, Cheryl, her husband of more than twenty years and their two children, Jeremiah and Christina, always considered themselves Oklahomans, transplanted to grow and flourish in the South. Readers are always welcome to contact her at P.O. Box 106, Faxon, OK 73540, or e-mail at Cheryl@cherylwolverton.com. You can also visit her Web site at www.cherylwolverton.com.
Cheryl Wolverton
Storm Clouds
ISBN: 9781408967270
Storm Clouds
© Cheryl Wolverton 2005
First Published in Great Britain in 2005
Harlequin (UK) Limited
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.á.r.l.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended: but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
—Philippians 3:13–14
To my dear Australian friends at Harlequin,
since chatting with you in e-mail, I have
always hoped to set a book in your country.
You guys are the greatest!
Also to my friends online: Aussie, aka Lisa from
ChristianRmWriters, who read my story to correct
me on anything wrong—so if you find mistakes,
as I’m sure you will, they’re mine.
And to my mom—it’s so much fun to live nearby
again after twenty years and have you getting
on me for missing a day of writing!
And as always to my dear kids, who are now
adults, Christina, twenty-one and Jeremiah,
eighteen and to my husband, Steve.
And finally, Steve’s dad, John, for giving us this
wonderful eighty-eight-acre farm to live on—
a place that truly inspires my life and writing.
You guys have been wonderful
through this entire book. Thanks.
Dear Reader,
Wow, do you have any idea the hundreds and hundreds of letters and e-mails I’ve received begging me to write Angelina’s and Todd’s stories? Guess what? I’ve wanted to write them, too—especially Angelina’s. She tried to take over in Shelter from the Storm, so I had to send her to Australia. And here is her story.
She is such a strong woman that she wore me out trying to write about her. I fell absolutely in love with this stalwart yet vulnerable woman. We all have pasts, no matter how innocent, because at one time we were all without the knowledge of God’s love and forgiveness. And in Angelina, we see how sometimes we just can’t learn to let go of the past, forget about it and strive onward, toward the goal that God has set for us—and that is Jesus Christ. If you hurt or have pain, please let it go and let God show you His love. Know that God will use those things to shape us and form us so that we can do His work as he did with Angelina. He loves you, dear one, and He won’t ever leave you.
I love to hear from readers, and I now live in Oklahoma. If you write to me, please be sure to make note of my new address: P.O. Box 106, Faxon, OK 73540, though my e-mail address remains the same: Cheryl@cherylwolverton.com.
In Christ’s love,
Prologue
You’re coming here, Angelina. You have no idea what you’re walking into. I’ve waited a long time for this and I’m not going to let you get in the way this time. Oh, no, not this time. I can kill two birds, as the saying goes. Angelina Harding. It’s been a long time. And you’re coming right to me here in Australia. You’ll be within my grasp. Though this is going to put a kink in my plan, you’re finally going to be mine. Time to play the mind games—again. And you won’t even know it.
Come on, Angie, doll. I’m waiting. Come on and try to find your brother and walk into the maze of my own making. Search for him and play awhile, before you die.
Contents
Prologue
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
COMING NEXT MONTH (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
The fuss over her pistol was not the most auspicious start to Angelina Harding’s flight. They’d made her check it—fortunately she had a smaller bag she could unzip from her backpack and check.
She’d gotten no sleep on the ride over, but she needed to be here for her brother.
Oh, how she wanted to be back in Pride, Louisiana, the tiny little town with a population of less than one hundred. She’d lived there for three wonderful years, with several of her friends who’d started a security firm. She liked it there in the small town, and she didn’t want to venture out into the real world.
But what could she do when she got the call…a call she hadn’t expected? She hadn’t talked to her brother in over fifteen years, and he needed her help.
Stepping into the cool air of Australia, she realized she hadn’t dressed for spring but late summer.
It was hot as an oven in Baton Rouge.
And it was just finishing winter here.
She shivered and cupped her hand over her eyes to glance toward the sunny sky. Wearily she grabbed a handful of her dark hair, tied it in a knot at her neck and then released it when she realized it had been shading the back of her neck.
Taking a deep breath, she paused to slip her pistol back into her ankle holster, rearrange her backpack and find the paper containing the information she’d jotted down about her brother.
Her internal clock told her it should be nighttime.
Her brother had said catch a plane to Sydney—and to hurry. Like she should drop everything for him. Glancing around, she noted the cars driving on the wrong side of the road.
She’d been so angry with her brother when he’d become a Christian nearly twenty years ago and decided to move to Australia….
She shook her head as she watched the hustle and bustle. Same as in any city but different too. Not seeing her brother, she started down the sidewalk looking for any sign of him. Bitterness nipped at her as she remembered her one visit to Australia when she was sixteen. She’d come here to see her brother.
He had sent her back home, telling her she shouldn’t have stolen money from her uncle and should have gotten his permission.
Permission!
She’d hated her brother for not letting her stay, and yet, he was her brother and when he called, she couldn’t ignore him as he had her.
Oh, man, she didn’t want to be here. Maybe Providence had been trying to keep her from coming. Maybe she should have turned around and left when the airline had hassled her about the gun.
The beep of a horn when she accidentally stepped out in front of a taxi brought her back to the present.
She hated Australia.
Or at least hated what it stood for.
Where was her brother?
Glancing around at the noisy area, she only wanted to be somewhere else.
Her brother’s decision to leave her in that forsaken place they’d both called home—at the mercy of her drunken uncle—had stuck with her all these years, haunting her dreams at night when she was all alone in the dark, scary night.
Her brother had left her because he felt called to become a missionary out in the bush of Australia—to start up a church. But in leaving to follow his calling, he’d left her to fend for herself. He didn’t mind being alone. She wouldn’t have minded being alone either. It would have been better than dealing with her uncle.
She didn’t like to remember that time of her life, but coming to Australia forced those memories back into the forefront of her mind.
She hadn’t talked to her brother in years because of that incident. She hadn’t seen him either.
And now he was in trouble.
Deciding her brother had forgotten to pick her up, she looked for a taxi to hail.
“Angelina Harding?”
She heard her name called and, in surprise, turned.
A man of medium build, dark hair, dark trousers and shirt stood about ten feet away. She was used to cataloguing whomever she met because of her training. A small mole under his right eyebrow barely showed above the sunglasses he wore.
“That would be me,” she acknowledged, noting he stood near a large sedan with a driver in it. She couldn’t see much else through the tinted windows.
“Your brother sent us.”
Her eyebrows shot up and she glanced at the car again. “He must be doing better than I realized,” she muttered to the man, feeling that much more angry and put out by her brother. Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, because she refused to pack more than one small case when she traveled, she headed toward the car.
“Let me take your bag,” the man murmured and reached out for it.
She shook her head and cradled the bag closer, wrapping her arms around it. “I’m fine.”
His hand brushed her side and she stepped away, not liking to be touched and wondering if all were so informal here.
Curious, she glanced at him but he’d turned away.
She sighed.
Her shoulders hurt, her neck ached. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed, nap and try to adjust to the time change. “I can’t believe it,” she said as she climbed into the back seat. “He called me and demanded I show up here. Said he had to talk to me. Do you know what I dropped to be here?” She knew the man wasn’t listening as he closed the door.
He hesitated again then climbed into the front. Okay, so she was being a grouch and she realized it. But seeing this car really ticked her off. How could her brother afford something like this? It just went to show her that he was so high and mighty now, he expected to have everyone at his beck and call.
She sagged back against the soft cushions of the expensive car.
When someone makes it sound like a matter of life and death, it usually means there is something serious the matter, she thought, disgruntled. She’d been in the Secret Service and didn’t throw terms like that around idly. In frustration, she closed her eyes and laid her head back on the seat. She had really expected him to be the one to meet her at the airport. And losing it wasn’t going to help the situation. She had decided to come down here, after all, so whatever happened was just going to happen.
She’d gotten a quick look at the driver as she’d crawled in. He was dressed the same as his companion. She saw in the rearview mirror his blue eyes, however. Very blue. Bluer than the Australian sky.
The buttery leather cushioned her body and invited her to rest. When had Marcus been able to afford such a car? And why had he sent a car for her instead of picking her up himself?
The car pulled smoothly out of the airport and headed out of town. Angelina swayed with the motion of the vehicle. She rested and allowed her aching body to ease as they got under way.
And as they drove, her mind drifted to her brother. All of those years ago he’d lived in a tiny ranch house, no air conditioning, dusty, out in the middle of nowhere. He’d had a group of people who lived with him. Marcus had planned to start up a school for children out in the area. He had even bought a van to pick them up. They were scraping by, but her brother had been so excited. This was his calling as he’d labeled it.
Some calling, she thought sourly. Going out into the middle of nowhere to teach kids with an accent.
There were plenty of kids in America with accents if that’s what he liked.
She knew she was bitter. But she’d needed her brother, and he hadn’t been there. However, he needed her now and she was determined she’d be there for him. Regardless.
When her friend Joshua Staring had started a new security firm in his hometown of Baton Rouge, it had sounded like just what she wanted—what she needed. It was her calling, she thought sourly. After all, one could only take so much adrenaline rush, and when the vice-president had almost been shot under her watch, that was it for her. She was glad to be working for Joshua. Mostly.
Angelina frowned and adjusted in her seat when they hit a bump, realizing she’d dozed a bit.
She had many friends in Baton Rouge at the security firm, but most of them were Christians now, and she just didn’t fit in with their beliefs. Just like her brother. They thought one way and she another, because she knew the harsh reality of life.
The smell of aftershave reached her nostrils, distracting her from her thoughts. Her brow creased as she forced herself into a more conscious state. Her sour mood faded as she concentrated on the smell. She couldn’t remember the name but knew it was quite expensive.
Something niggled at her. Expensive car, expensive cologne. What was her brother into?
Cracking open her eyelid she glanced again at the two men in the front seats; neither had said a word. As she did, she noted something else. She’d been daydreaming longer than she realized for they were now outside of town. And the sun was on the wrong side of the car.
They were headed in the wrong direction.
Angelina might have only been here one other time, but she knew her directions.
Alarm bells went off inside her. “Um, excuse me,” she said to draw the attention of the man in the front seat. “How long before we get to where my brother is?”
The man shrugged. “Thirty minutes.” Then a window between them slowly rose.
Now fully alert, she sat up. She did her best to keep her expression nonchalant as she glanced out the window because she saw the driver watching her closely. She nodded. “No problem. It’s been many years. Just wondered.”
Something wasn’t right, and she knew if she didn’t get out of the car, she wasn’t going to see her brother.
Call it instinct. Call it woman’s intuition. Call it experience. She knew that when her insides screamed danger like this, it meant listen up.
There was nothing near the car. Mountains in the distance and desert on either side. She knew Australia wasn’t like this everywhere and wondered why her brother had chosen such a place to work. He’d told her it had its own beauty.
Right now, it only looked deserted to her. If she tried to escape she just knew that these men had guns and would shoot her.
No one else was in sight for miles.
What was she going to do?
If she were Josh, she’d pray, but then she didn’t do that. Her friend back home was always telling her she needed to lean on God. She’d seen too much to believe that.
She needed to think.
And then she saw it.
In the distance, from a road crossing through the rocky terrain, a dust trail arose.
Someone was approaching. She forced herself to stay totally relaxed so not to alert the men in the front seat.
Studying them, she noted the looks they exchanged and knew beyond any doubt that these men weren’t from her brother. Had she not been so immersed in her own memories, her instincts would have alerted her much sooner. The dust trail might be her only chance of escape.
If she could time it just right, she could get away and possibly live to find out what was going on.
She leaned back and closed her eyes to slits so the driver would relax his vigil. And she waited.
As they drove onward down the road, the dust trail got closer.
It seemed like hours, but she knew better. A minute, maybe two at most had crept past.
And then they were approaching the place the other vehicle would cross. It wasn’t really a road, but more ruts in a dusty trail. She could see the Jeep now plainly.
Taking a quick breath, she wrapped her hand around her backpack, inching her other hand to where she kept her pistol.
When the car was just where it needed to be, she acted. With a quick motion, she pulled out her 9 mm and shot the window to her side. Throwing up her feet, she slammed them into the shattered glass.
She felt the jolt of the car as the driver jerked the wheel in surprise, heard the shouts and the sound of the window between them starting down.
She didn’t wait, but pulled her feet under her and shoved herself out the small open space.
Her body hit the hard ground, bouncing painfully over sticks and rocks and whatever else they had out there in the brush as she rolled away from the car. And she lost her gun in the process.
The Jeep swerved, nearly hitting her. The sound of tires squealing, rocks and dust flying, the taste of dirt and smell of fuel all filled the air.
The car she’d bailed out of skidded to a stop, its tires a deeper shriek.
She didn’t wait to see what they’d do. With a fast glance around, she noted her pistol wasn’t in sight. Growling in frustration, she shoved against the rough dried-out brush as she staggered to her feet, feeling fire blazing down her right arm and right hip where she’d hit the ground. It didn’t slow her down, however, as she sprinted across the uneven ground toward the stunned driver of the Jeep.
“Are you all right?” the stranger asked, jumping out of his vehicle and heading toward her.
“Drive!” she shouted and leapt for the car.
Bullet holes appeared in the front panel of the vehicle.
The blond man’s eyes widened and he bounded back around to the driver’s side and piled in.
Only then did she realize it was some sort of official vehicle.
Shots rang out again.
“If you don’t get going we’re both going to be dead!”
“Where?” With a sharp twist of the wheel, he jammed it into gear and spun it away from the danger, not waiting for an answer as he turned.
“Away from them!” She started searching for anything to shoot back at the car.
The man didn’t hesitate, but popped the car into gear and tore off back the way he’d come.
Angelina flew back into the seat, her head landing with a thud against the headrest. A grunt escaped her. At least he was driving now.
The other car peeled out and she knew that the chase had just begun.
And once again, she wondered just what her brother had gotten himself involved in. If they didn’t escape these men, she wasn’t going to find out.
Chapter Two
David Lemming pushed the Jeep as fast as he could away from their pursuers, not worried if he broke an axle. He only wanted to put distance between them and the men chasing the crazy woman.
Glancing into the rearview mirror, he saw the car was still following. It hit a bump, bounced up and then back down, smashing against the open range of the reserve. “Care to tell me why they’re after you?” he shouted over the loud roar of the engine and wind as they raced madly across the rocky terrain. He swerved to avoid a particularly stout bush and then swerved back to avoid a dip in the landscape.
“I don’t know,” she shouted in reply. She fell back into the seat and grabbed at it to keep her balance while her left hand searched his vehicle. David cast a wary glance at her as she rummaged about, bumping him, distracting him…Her eyes suddenly gleamed. She’d found his rifle under the seat. “Hey!” he cried, his utter shock at being shot at suddenly replaced by the fear of this crazy woman getting hold of his gun. “I don’t think you should use that.”
Sweat broke out on the back of his neck. How had he gotten himself into this situation? He’d been out doing his rounds for the National Park Reserve and then this woman had fallen out of a car. In all of his years and all of his jobs he’d never had something like this happen.
Now he was being chased across the reserve and the woman he’d rescued—or who had hijacked him, he still wasn’t sure which—was getting ready to shoot at the people behind them, the people who were trying to kill her…no them, he corrected, since he was in the car with this lady. On top of it all, he was having to use every bit of his skill to keep from overturning them as he cut out across the land.
“I know what I’m doing,” she warned him as she turned in her seat and braced herself, one knee wedged in the seat as she fought for steadiness and shouldered the rifle.
He suddenly realized the woman wasn’t from here. She had a different accent. He tried to place it and groaned when he realized she was one of those loony Americans. Yeah, she probably did know how to use it. They all had guns over there.
They hit a nasty bump and the woman’s arm bounced. The rifle went flying.
She let off with a loud shout, very unladylike. “Idiots!”
He winced. “Er, be that as it may, lady, I’d hold on.”
She looked at him. “Don’t tell me my word choice bothers you? We’re about to be killed.”
He shrugged. He’d done plenty of drinking and name-calling in his life as a teenager, but now…not now. That wasn’t what he’d been wincing over, however. It was the fact that he’d almost lost the woman out the door. Forcing his heart back down out of his throat, he croaked out, “Hold on,” and cut sharply to the right.
“We’ve got to get rid of them!” the woman ordered working to twist back around.
The lady was good at keeping her balance as fresh bullets whizzed by them. He said a prayer that God would protect them.
That’s when an idea came to him. “I think I know a place we can lose them,” he called out.
“I’m open to suggestions,” she shot back.
He nodded, not understanding what she meant, since he was the one driving. “We’re coming up on these canyons.” He nodded to where the terrain was rising up on each side of them. “I know a path through…”
“They’ll follow,” she argued.
He glanced at her and thought that for someone in trouble, she was pretty argumentative. She had turned and was putting her seat belt on.
“Trust me,” he said.
She glared at him. “I don’t trust anyone.”
He wasn’t sure how to take that. He concentrated on the curves instead of the woman. The shooting had stopped for the time being since the other car couldn’t get a clear shot. “When we get around this next corner I need you to hold on,” he called out.
She nodded and braced herself.
He took a deep breath and prayed he didn’t kill them both.
A sharp U-turn and he took a path opposite to the way he’d been going and continued, right to the edge of the road—and then over.
The woman screamed.
He couldn’t help but let out a shout as adrenaline rushed through his body.
They crashed down over the side, rattling him from his feet to his teeth. He slammed on the brake and the woman slid forward.
With quick agility, David shoved the gear into Reverse and backed up until he was inside one of the numerous caves in the area. He kept going until they were back beyond anyone’s ability to see inside to where they were.
Above them, they heard the car racing past.
He held his breath, waiting, but didn’t hear them returning. He could only hope they’d bought it.
Turning toward the woman, he started to say something, pausing when he suddenly realized she was awfully calm considering what he’d just done. His curiosity turned to alarm when he realized the woman was lying back against the seat, still and quiet. “Lady?” He reached over and touched her cheek.
It was wet. And she didn’t respond to his touch.
Cold fear shot through him as he realized the passenger was injured.
He opened the glove compartment and found his flashlight. Flipping it on, he saw instantly she’d hit her head. Blood trickled from just below her hairline.
He released his seat belt and turned to grab the first aid kit he kept in the Jeep. It was too easy for things to happen out there so he always kept a kit with him. Fishing through it, he found what he wanted.
Heartened when the woman next to him groaned and moved, he asked, “Can you hear me?” He pulled out some gauze and bandages.
She groaned again.
He reached up to push her long dark hair back behind her ear so he could examine the wound more closely.
She grabbed his hand and nearly broke his fingers.
He jerked back and she pulled him forward.
Immediately he leaned into the fight and pinned her. “Calm down, my little wombat,” he whispered.
It must have been his voice or maybe she was finally regaining consciousness completely because she stiffened and then relaxed, releasing him. “Sorry,” she muttered and in the dim light, he saw her wince.
“Be still. Let me bandage that head.”
It was cool in the cave and he felt the woman shiver. He reached behind her seat and grabbed the jacket he’d worn earlier. “Here, sweetheart, wear this.”
“I’m no one’s sweetheart,” she objected.
He smiled slightly. “Still feisty.” Tearing open the gauze, he pulled it out of the package and then placed it over the small laceration. Taking the second one out of the package, he started wiping up the blood from her face. “I don’t think this is as bad as it looks.”
“You’re not the one with the pounding head.” Her deep voice echoed, a bit put off at the moment. He would be too, he reminded himself, if he’d just been hurt as she had.
As he wiped her face, high cheekbones revealed themselves on a long angular face. She was quite beautiful. And those deep-brown eyes…
“Done yet?” she grouched at him.
Pulled back to the business at hand, he tossed the bloody gauze and grabbed the roll of first aid tape. Firmly taping the fresh gauze over her wound, he paused to reach out and pull her hair from behind her ear.
Her gaze shot to his as if he’d done something of which she didn’t approve.
He admitted it was a very intimate gesture, but he’d had to touch the soft hair once again.
Sitting back, he studied the woman carefully, working to break the intimacy of his gesture. “I’m David Lemming. And you are?”
“Hurting from head to toe,” she answered. “Got any painkillers in that box?”
He lifted a brow at the way she’d avoided answering then reached in and pulled out some medication, which he handed to her. She didn’t blink, but slipped it into her mouth and swallowed without water.
He swallowed, his own throat dry. He felt a bit like choking as he watched her.
She glanced ahead and then finally cut a quick glance at him. “Angelina Harding.”
He nodded. Turning around to face the front as she did, he stared toward the bright dusty exit to their inner sanctum. “You were unconscious when they passed, but they have long since gone on down the road.”
“They’ll be back,” she warned.
He thought about that. Curious, he asked, “Why are they after you?”
She sighed and leaned back against the headrest. “I honestly don’t know, but I’m afraid it might have something to do with my brother.”
Though that made no sense to him, he didn’t ask for more information. “I need to call the authorities.” He snagged the radio in the car to call in—and saw the bullet holes. Consternation forced a temporary scowl to his face. “Well, that’s out.”
“Don’t you have a cell phone?” she asked. “I need to check on my brother.”
Incredulous he turned to look at her. He shook his head. He wasn’t even going to answer that one. “Where is your brother?”
“Wallabee.”
Surprised, he said, “Here in Australia? But you sound American.”
She nodded and raised a hand to her sore head obviously regretting the action. “He lives here. A missionary.”
David felt shock down to his toes. She’d said her name was Angelina Harding. Harding. He knew that name well, at least the last name, but until she’d said what her brother did, he hadn’t made the connection. Still, he couldn’t believe this beauty might be connected to the sweet quiet and yet homely man he knew. “Not Marcus Harding?”
She glanced at him and there was acknowledgement in her eyes. “You know my brother?”
Slowly, he nodded. “He led me to the Lord just about ten years ago.”
Her face twisted up as if she’d just tasted something sour.
“Great.” She looked him up and down. “So you’re one of those Christians too.” She leaned back into the chair and muttered “Just great.”
Surprised, he sat back. Marcus didn’t mention his sister much. Only that she’d moved, not keeping in touch with him and that he only heard about her occasionally. Things of that sort. “You’re his sister.”
“We’ve already established that.”
“What were you doing in that car?”
She sighed again, definitely in a worse mood than only a moment before—and all because he’d said he was a Christian.
“Okay. Here’s the quick version. My brother called me yesterday and insisted he needed me over here as soon as possible. It was some national emergency or something. We don’t talk much,” she added acidly. “Anyway, I rushed over here. Instead of him meeting me at the airport, these two goons show up and say my brother has sent them. Obviously, my brother hasn’t taken a hit out on me so he didn’t send them. Which means something must have happened to my brother. I need to get in touch with him as soon as possible.”
He watched the fluctuating emotions in her eyes and felt for her. Though she sounded angry and sarcastic, there was an underlying edge of worry in her voice and hurt in her eyes.
Compassion flooded him. “I can get you there. First thing first, however, sweetheart. I think we should get your head examined.”
She shot him a look.
He lifted his hands. “What?”
“That’s not a good way to say that. And I don’t need this small bump examined anyway. I need to see my brother.”
He frowned. “We’ll need to call the authorities.”
He could tell she wasn’t thrilled with that idea. “Fine. But we’d better get out of here before those men find us.”
He nodded. Reaching for the key, he turned it—and nothing happened.
“What’s the matter?” Angelina asked immediately.
David shrugged. He turned it again and there was only a low grinding sound. Battery light showed fine, temperature was okay…“We’re out of petrol,” he said and stared at the gauge.
“You’re kidding!” She scoffed and then leaned forward to peer at the gauges. Impatiently she tapped the glass over the gauge. It definitely registered empty.
“I just filled up this morning.” He shook his head. “That’s impossible.” He thought about tapping it himself but resisted the urge.
“Yeah,” the woman muttered and then groaned when her movement caused fresh pain in her right arm.
He turned the key off and got out of the Jeep. Going around to the side of the vehicle, he reached to open the gas tank and saw the problem.
“What is it?” Angelina asked lowering her hand from her eyes as the pain eased.
She knew already, he thought. If she was used to this, she surely knew. She was simply mollifying him. “Petrol tank was shot up. Our petrol is all on the ground—what was left, that is.”
She sighed. “Figured as much. Well, we can’t stay here.”
He disagreed, but then thought, if those guys had any brains they would come back looking. He nodded. “Very well. I know the cavern system here. It’s a bit cool, but we can follow this for two kilometers and come up away from here which might give us a safer chance to hitch a ride back on the main road.”
She shifted and pulled herself out of the Jeep.
David went around and helped her out. Catching her arms, he steadied her as she lowered her feet to the rocky ground. With concern, he asked, “The question is—can you make it, sweetheart?”
She glowered at him. “I can make it, but if you call me sweetheart one more time, you just might not.”
He found himself grinning. “A feisty sheila is better than an unconscious one. Follow me, stay conscious and we’ll be okay.”
She grunted something under her breath, and his smile widened. Despite the fact that this normal day had turned crazily upside down, he thought he might just enjoy the next hour or two with this woman.
Chapter Three
“Thank you.” Angelina nodded to the driver who had given them a ride to her brother’s mission. Evidently, many in the area knew her brother.
And as she stepped out of the vehicle, she could see why. This was the first town they’d come to since exiting the caves several miles back.
It stretched on for what seemed like forever. It sure hadn’t been like this years ago. A simple broken-down house had been all that’d existed. The house was still there, repaired and bigger. But along with that were two huge buildings nearby and a yard, a green landscaped yard that covered the entire area. Cemented walkways led off toward some other buildings and then past those were two large structures that reminded her of college dorms. Though not as nice, they were still impressive. She could see horses running in the distance and what looked like a small golf-cart-type vehicle, not in the best of shape, going down a dirt path between two of the far-off structures.
“Those are men’s and women’s dorms off in the distance. The three buildings over there are teaching rooms and the barns are over there. This is the house Marcus lives in.”
David Lemming was still with her. Her mouth twisted. “I knew that.”
He’d asked her why she was here and probed a bit, but when he’d figured out she wasn’t in the mood to talk, he’d left her alone. Obviously, he wasn’t going to leave her, though. Turning, she asked curiously, “Why are you still here?”
He shrugged. “Marcus is a good friend. It wouldn’t be right for me to leave his little sister to fend for herself.”
She gaped. Surely, he was kidding. Leave her alone to fend for herself? How sexist. She shook her head. Without a word, she turned on her heel and headed toward the house surrounded by a wooden fence with no real gate. The old-fashioned poles set in an upside down U denoted the entrance to the area.
It was pretty empty looking. The grass in the front yard and a few small flowerbeds added a touch of homey atmosphere, but there was also a watering trough set next to the house and a makeshift separate structure that provided shade for a parked vehicle. She wondered why, if David had fixed up the rest of the campus, he hadn’t built himself a new house as well.
The sound of horses in the stables reached her ears. In the distance, she could see students ambling from one of the buildings toward the dorms. Under trees, people young and old rested, chatting, some with books opened or in close discussion.
This was a mission?
“Can I help you?”
Angelina turned her head back toward the house to see a man close to her own age walking forward.
“I’m Angelina Harding. Who’s in charge?”
“I’ll get Steve.” His gaze traveled over her curiously before he turned and strode back to the building. Almost immediately, an older man appeared. Dressed in scruffy pants and a button-down top, boots and a hat, he came forward. He was as dark as midnight, yet had the kindest eyes.
“David!” The man tipped his hat. “I’m Steve Hawkins,” he said to Angelina. “You’d be Marcus’s sister, wouldn’t you?”
She shook his hand, shaken by how nice the man seemed. Forcing her professionalism to the forefront, she nodded. “I received a call from him yesterday. What’s going on? Where’s Marcus?”
The older man frowned. His gaze darted to David and then back. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, miss.” He took his hat off and held it respectfully before him. “Your brother has gone missing.”
Angelina blinked. “Excuse me?”
The man glanced at David again.
Irritated she started to correct him but David spoke up. “Has someone called the authorities?”
The man nodded. He motioned with his hat. “Let’s get in outta this sun. You’ll burn fast down here if you aren’t used to it.”
He turned and headed to the house.
Numbly, Angelina followed.
After years of being angry with her brother, full of bitterness, refusing to see him, then she got news like this? She was furious with him, and yet…
“Are you all right?”
She glanced at David and realized he was carefully watching her reaction. She forced her neutral expression back over her features. “Fine. Where are the authorities?”
She stepped into the warm house and realized just how chilled she’d become. Her body immediately reacted to the warmth.
“Ted, get some tea please,” Steve called to the man who’d originally greeted them and now stood across the room, rustling through some papers on a table. He looked up, glanced at Angelina again, then nodded and disappeared down a hallway.
Another man stood up, a set of ledgers in his hands. Tall, distinguished, he wore a dark suit and boots.
“This is Frank Henson. Frank, this is Marcus’s sister.”
Frank nodded. “Sorry about the bad news, Ms. Harding.”
“He’s one of our financiers. He’s been in on your brother’s venture since nearly the beginning,” Steve explained to Angelina. Turning to Frank, he said, “Can we finish this up later, Frank?”
The gentleman nodded. “Of course. I understand.” He studied David curiously and nodded. “David.” Then his gaze went back to Angelina. He was probably wondering why she looked as if she’d been dragged through a drain pipe backwards, she thought. He nodded again. “I’ll be back later.”
He left, going through the back hall that Angelina thought might lead toward the kitchen. Though she’d been here before, she didn’t remember everything, some things had faded with time.
Steve led them into the spacious living room and motioned to the sofa.
Angelina didn’t realize David had followed until he seated himself by her. Why was he acting so protectively, she wondered.
“Is your head okay, miss, or do I need to get you medical attention?”
“I’m fine—”
“She needs medical attention,” David said at the same time.
She scowled at him.
Ted brought in the tea and Steve said something in another language to Ted who replied, then nodded and left. There certainly hadn’t been this many people either, back then, Angelina thought. Frank, Ted, Steve…all living here with her brother?
“Ted also helps manage the mission.” Steve nodded to the nice-looking man who had slipped out the front door. She saw him glance back one last time and then disappear from sight.
Steve handed a cup of tea to Angelina. “What did the authorities say?” she demanded as soon as Ted was gone.
She didn’t want to play tea party. She wanted to find out about her brother.
David accepted the tea and handed it to Angelina. She scowled, but took it, favoring her right arm as she did.
“I was gone last night,” Steve began and Angelina wondered if he was purposely trying to ignore her direct question.
Steve passed tea to David and then took his own. He added cream and sugar and stirred. Expressive eyes filled with anger when he finally looked back to her. “I had to run one of the students into town. She’d been feeling bad and the nurse was gone. It was our night out anyway so most of the students were away. Your brother told me to stop and pick up some groceries on the way back for the house, and so I was later than normal getting back—”
“And?” Angelina interrupted. She reached up for her head, realizing she was being rude but really only wanting an answer.
“Forgive me, miss. But I thought you’d want to know why your brother was alone. When I got back, well, the house was empty. Furniture was overturned and some of the lamps broken. We just now only an hour past got the house put to rights.”
Despite being separated from her brother for years, Angelina felt the blood drain from her face. Suddenly she was once again that little girl whose uncle used to drag her brother out of the room to talk with him. “Someone took him.”
David took her tea and set it aside, which snapped her back to the present. She shook herself.
“It looks that way, miss. I called the authorities immediately. They came out and looked around and I told them all that I knew, but…we’re praying.”
Her scowl returned. “Praying?” She stood. “My brother is missing and you’re wasting time praying?”
Steve reacted in shock. “Well we might not know where he is, miss, but God does.”
“Please!” She’d had all she could of this bunk. “What did the police say?”
Steve looked a bit nonplussed by her reaction.
“Angelina.” David’s voice drew her attention. “You might want to let Steve finish his story.”
He was another one of those Christians, but the gentleness in his eyes convinced her to hold her tongue. She was out of line.
Turning back to Steve, she took a deep breath and let it out. “I apologize, Steve. Can you tell me anything else?”
He nodded. “Your brother had contacts with all sorts of underworld types because of the life many of our students come from. You know, he’d hang out and meet them as he was helping others. They might not like his ways, but they respected him. He went into the cities and into the bush alike and was always hearing things. He’s rather a hero around here. He helped cut crime nearly in half. He’d been out making his rounds when he heard something disturbing. He didn’t go into any details with me, but I do know he mentioned you several times and decided he just might ring you up.”
“Did he say anything else?”
Steve shook his head. “The authorities asked me the same thing. No, miss. We’re hoping Jake might be able to tell us something if he regains consciousness.”
“Jake?” David asked.
Surprised, Angelina turned her attention to David.
Steve nodded to David. “When I got back from town, we found this place tore up, and poor Jake was lying in the kitchen unconscious. We think the person or people came in through the back because of the woods and conked poor Jake over the head.”
“Who’s Jake?” Angelina asked, then turned to David. “And just how do you know everyone here?”
David answered this time. “He’s the cook. When Marcus led me to the Lord, Jake took me under his wing. He’s a special friend. And I used to own all of this land.”
“Still do.”
David acknowledged the other man’s comment.
Angelina didn’t ask him to elaborate. Her mind still whirled with the fact that all of these people knew each other and they were all Christians like her brother. She didn’t like that.
Putting it aside, she turned back to Steve. “Did my brother ever keep notes? Anything?”
Steve sighed. “The authorities already asked me that and went through his study.”
Her brother wouldn’t have kept it there. At least not when they were kids. They’d hidden everything from their uncle. “Can I see his bedroom?”
“You need medical attention,” David said gently.
She sighed. He was right.
“Ted sent for the nurse,” Steve told David.
She bristled. “Then I can search his room while we’re waiting for the nurse?”
Her brother, gone. It was starting to sink in that her brother really was missing, and that whatever he’d called her about tied into his disappearance.
Unfortunately, searching his room was going to have to wait as the nurse walked in right then.
Frustration built. “I need to call the police too,” she blurted out.
David touched her hand.
She jerked.
“Look sweet—gelina,” he corrected. His look calmed her as she stared into his eyes. And the way he’d changed the “sweetheart” almost drew a grin—almost.
Still, that gentle touch anchored her. What had happened to her world in the last twenty-four hours?
“I’ll call the authorities and report what has happened. I need to let my boss know why I’m gone as well. You allow the nurse to tend you and then, when someone arrives to take our report, you can question them about your brother. Before that, however, you can search your brother’s room. Maybe you’ll find something that will help them. All right?”
She didn’t want to admit this man’s plan made sense. She tilted her head slightly. “How long have I known you now?”
He smiled, dimples appearing. “Too long, I’m afraid.”
She chuckled. The man had a sense of humor. “I suppose I should apologize for your Jeep.”
“That is going to be hard to explain to my boss.”
“I’ll be glad to elaborate for him.”
“Americans,” he said softly and chuckled.
She lifted an eyebrow in response, which reminded her of the injury.
“You go this way, miss, and Myra will examine you.”
She glanced at the woman who stood quietly off to the side. Large, wide features, but pretty, she had her hair pulled back, wore a pair of faded jeans and a top tucked in with a brown belt. She carried a knapsack in one hand.
Definitely not what she expected a nurse to look like.
Maybe if she got her alone, she could find out a bit more of what was going on, or what had been going on. She glanced at David. “Sounds like a plan.”
David nodded. “Go with her then.”
She stood and David watched her go. When she was gone, he turned to Steve.
“How are you feeling?” Steve asked.
David picked up his tea and drank some. The heat felt good going down his throat. “Like I’ve been run over by my Jeep,” he answered when he was done with the hot liquid.
“How did you end up with Marcus’s sister?”
“That’s a story,” David said. He stood and paced to the window. His back and shoulders ached from going over that cliff. He still couldn’t believe he’d done that and laid that at God’s feet. It had just come to him in a small voice to do it—and they had survived. Of course, they were both sore—but alive and sore were better than the alternative. “I was out making my rounds when this woman came flying out a window of a passing vehicle. I honestly thought the little sheila had tried to kill herself until she jumped up and ran toward me. Bullets exploded about us so I started driving.” He turned and faced Steve. “How did an American—and not just any American, but Marcus’ sister—end up out there in the middle of nowhere?”
“God’s will,” Steve said simply.
“It must have been. I was the only vehicle for kilometers. They shot up the boot and filled the Jeep with holes. I had no petrol left.” He ran a hand through his short sandy hair and sighed. “And I have no idea if the people who were chasing her are still after us. I kept looking over my shoulder the entire time. All I could think was we had to get out of there and get here before something happened to Angelina.”
Why he’d felt that way, he wasn’t sure. But it had been his little wombat he’d worried about instead of himself. She was spirited. And when he’d touched her face in the cave…His blunt fingers had looked so large against her small delicate features. He’d wanted to fix all of her problems, even though he hadn’t known who she was. That was his purpose for being where he’d been.
Steve nodded. “Marcus would appreciate that. I know he’s never forgiven himself for not bringing Angelina with him.”
David nodded. Marcus rarely talked of his sister except to say they came from a bad background, and more was going on with Angelina than he’d understood at the time. David wasn’t sure what that meant, only that years later Marcus had regretted leaving Angelina in the States. He wondered how Marcus could have left such an innocent to fend for herself, though she was spunky and could handle a gun. “I need to call the authorities.”
Steve nodded and David went to the phone and rang up the nearest help. When he was off the phone, he turned back to Steve, who perused him and said, “You look a bit injured yourself.”
David glanced down. “I’m dirty, but the blood is from Angelina. What a sheila,” he said and shook his head. “I’m battered and bruised but I don’t think I have any other injuries.”
Steve nodded. “Still,” he said sipping his tea, “you should get checked out.”
David sank down to the couch. “After Angelina’s done, then. Tell me, why would they grab Marcus and not you, since you both run this mission?”
Steve shook his head and his features became inscrutable. “I don’t know. You know I do a lot of the tending and counseling, but Marcus is the more evangelistic of the two of us. Shari asked me the same thing,” he said referring to his wife who lived in their house about a kilometer away. “She was terrified for me to come to work today. But let me ask you something. Since you’re a millionaire, why didn’t they grab you?”
David shrugged. “It obviously doesn’t have anything to do with money. I don’t think they knew who I was.” He was glad Angelina didn’t pick up on Steve’s mention of him owning the land or ask him why he was working at such a job if he was so rich. It was a God thing. He needed this time to search and the job gave him joy—a break from his former life while he considered his future.
“Well, if Angelina is here and Marcus is missing and I’ve somehow been brought into this, I guess I’d better call my work and tell them I won’t be in for a while.”
Steve smiled softly. “Think maybe all this time off searching is finally leading you to your destiny?”
David scoffed, “I’m not called to the ministry and no, Marcus’s sister is definitely not my destiny. I do think, however, that maybe, since Marcus is like a brother to me, I should watch out for his sister until we can find him.” He knew he was contradicting what he’d said, but he wouldn’t admit to Steve that he felt protective of this strange woman.
Steve simply smiled and David found himself scowling much as Angelina had done only a short time before. No, his destination was still his own. He knew what God wanted him to do. Working alone in the reserve by himself was fine. Why Steve insisted that there was more he didn’t know. But he did know, as much as Marcus meant to him, he couldn’t let Angelina run around his country unattended—and he had a feeling if someone didn’t keep an eye on her that was exactly what would happen.
So God had sent her his way and he was going to make sure she was safe until they could find Marcus.
He only wondered if Angelina would comply. He doubted she was complying with whatever the nurse was doing right now, either.
Chapter Four
Idiots!
You don’t know who they are, do you? But nowyou know someone is after you as well.
It won’t be those same men, though. No, Angie,doll. One of them is being disposed of right nowbecause you made me lose my temper.
You won’t best me again. This isn’t just aboutmy plan now, but it’s about you as well.
You now know your brother is missing. Yes, Isaw you pull up to the compound. And you didn’teven recognize me. I thought I was going to haveto kill you immediately. Amazing. You’re slippingup. Just how much are you still with the game?Will you find the clues left behind? Clues that willlead you far from your brother? Come on, Angie,look hard. Find the little crumbs of bread I’ve laidout for you to follow…Right into my trap.
Chapter Five
She’d endured the nurse’s ministrations. She’d needed two small stitches in her hairline—not the first time she’d had that happen. She’d actually had to sew herself up a couple of times when she’d been out in the field. And once her partner had needed stitches.
She’d had little time for the nurse—especially as she’d prattled on and on about God.
Her boss and her friends mentioned religion but never pushed. But that was all they talked about here. She didn’t remember it being like this ten years before—but then she’d been running and scared, so anything would have been better than where she’d come from. And back then, she might have actually been interested—before her brother had turned her away, before she’d gone back and faced her uncle.
She forced her mind away from the past. She’d gotten over that. She’d gone through therapy and knew it wasn’t her fault. She could handle herself fine.
“Find anything?”
She heard the voice behind her and jumped. How had he sneaked up on her? Turning, she lifted an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”
David smiled that gentle smile that unnerved her. “I brought you here remember?”
She scowled. “You know what I meant.”
His smile turned crooked. “I called my boss. He’s quite upset about the Jeep.”
He was trying to make her feel guilty, she realized, and it was working. Turning back to her brother’s room, she went back to searching his dresser.
“But don’t worry, I explained everything,” David continued. He hadn’t moved from by the doorway. “My boss thinks I’m suffering hallucinations so he’s given me some time off.”
She whirled back around.
He chuckled. “Not really. I did take some vacation, however.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“You need help.”
“I do not need assistance,” she informed him. “I used to work in security.” She didn’t want to tell him Secret Service. “I can handle myself.”
She returned to searching and heard his soft tread as his feet crossed the tiled floor and hit the carpet.
“Are all Americans this stubborn?”
His voice was deep and melodic. He could be an announcer for a radio. She looked up in the mirror at his reflection. “That’s so cliché.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never been to America.”
“And all Australians live in dusty wastelands and have kangaroos as pets, I assume?” she replied.
He chuckled. “As a matter of fact, we do have a few kangaroos on the property here, but sorry, back at my flat in Fleting, I have no kangaroos.”
“Fleting?”
“Not too far from Wallabee actually,” he informed her.
Realizing she had been distracted, she focused back on the dresser.
“Where have you searched?” he asked and backed off.
“All of the usual places. I haven’t found anything.” She jerked open the top drawer where she remembered her brother’s cuff links being stored and blinked.
“What have we here?” David asked, curiously and moved forward.
“Looks like an address book. But why wouldn’t the police have found this?” She pulled it out and opened it. It wasn’t an address book, but had notes jotted in it. People’s names, descriptions of places and such.
“Perhaps because they wouldn’t expect something to be stored in there—other than men’s tie tacks?”
“Sloppy police work,” Angelina muttered.
She went over to a bench that ran under the window and sat down. David followed. Slowly she flipped through page after page. “There’s a lot in here I don’t understand.”
David reached for the book. She allowed him to take it; the professional part of her understood that as a local, he might see something she didn’t.
And he did. “Cowboy lingo.”
She blinked. “What do you mean by that?”
“That’s what you call it isn’t it? Ranchers?”
“I know what the word means.” She shook her head. “What do you see?”
“This is how we measure off kilometers. And this means Fleting actually and here is an abbreviation for a street in Wallabee. Fleting is a bigger town. I think this might be a nightclub.”
“My brother wouldn’t go to nightclubs,” she argued.
David stopped flipping the pages and looked up at Angelina. “You really don’t know much about your brother do you?”
Coolly she replied, “We don’t get along.”
He started to comment, shook his head and then said, “Let me explain how I met your brother.”
“I don’t see—”
“It has to do with the nightclub.”
She hesitated. Time was ticking away. Her brother was missing, and this man wanted to share stories with her. But she’d learned in her business it was better to be thorough than to go off half-cocked. If she wanted to find her brother, she was going to have to step back and act professionally instead of like a family member.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/cheryl-wolverton/storm-clouds/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.