"I'd do it for anyone."
Yes, she would. But she hadn't done it for anyone. She'd done it for him. And just as when she'd passed him that Ho-Ho twenty-two years ago, he couldn't walk away.
Mary Elise sagged into the seat across from the two crew bunks in the Spartan sleeping cubicle behind the cockpit. Trey tangled in the covers on the top, slack-jawed with exhaustion. On the bottom, Austin clutched his ragged sailboat quilt, sucking on a corner as if he could somehow taste home.
How much would the little guy remember of the ordeal, the crate, the escape?Would he remember his parents?
Franklin Baker hadn't been the best of fathers to Daniel, but he'd been trying to compensate with Trey and Austin. Their mother may have been a dim bulb, but she'd loved her boys. They'd loved her.
Trey and Austin had been shuffled so much in their short lives—born in the States, moving a couple of years ago, now back again. And the turmoil wasn't over yet. A new home. A guardian they didn't even know.
Their brother.
Danny.
The mammoth aircraft seemed to shrink, the gray beams and bolts closing in on her. Such a large plane shouldn't feel so very small, nowhere to turn without bumping into him. They must be plowing through the most turbulent stretch of airspace in the sky. One more pitch against Daniel's rock-solid chest and she would lose her mind.
Toying with her earring, she untangled threads of hair from the hoop. He should not have the ability to unsettle her so much. She wanted to exchange a nostalgic smile and hug while they both acknowledged their lives had moved on for the best.
Except she hadn't. What about him?
A tingle started up her spine. She could feel him, standing behind her. Danny. Mary Elise glanced up and over her shoulder, already accepting she would find him.
Not Danny, but rather the stranger, Daniel, lounged in the doorway, rumpled flight suit making her long to swipe her hands over the wrinkles.
The muscles.
Silently he stared back at her. No doubt churning the whole mess around in his analytical brain, searching for a way to make sense of it all. Then, opting to cover his confusion with a joke.
She didn't want that joke. She wanted a piece of the past to replace the awkwardness. "Remember the time you painted your face, and decked out in cammo to see if you could break into the Savannah River Site plant?"
The C-17 droned for what seemed like an hour, probably closer to seconds, before a slow smile dimpled Danny's cheeks. He canted closer to be heard over the plane's roar, the privacy curtain swaying closed behind him. "Well, hell, Mary Elise, I was doing a public service. Anyplace constructing and testing the parts for nukes needed to have stronger security if a twelve-year-old could bust inside."
"No respect for danger, ever." Her eyes fell to rest on the children, checking the steady rise and fall of their chests, any snuffling breaths masked by the rumble of engines vibrating the plane. With each exhalation she thanked God for their sturdy little bodies, so resilient.
Five miscarriages had taught her well how fragile young life could be.
Although, Danny had seemed to possess a godlike invincibility in his youth. Or perhaps that had more to do with how he'd never groused over a tagalong tired of tiptoeing so as not to disrupt her bed-bound mother. "You wouldn't have been caught if I hadn't snuck along."
"You always did worry too much." His shoulders filled the portal and her eyes.
Mary Elise welcomed the escape into happier times with smaller childhood worries. "You could have left me behind when the alarm went off. I wouldn't have ratted you out."
"Which is why I couldn't leave you."
But he had. Eventually. After her miscarriage, she'd seen the caged look in his eyes, the need to run once he was free of obligations. She hadn't expected they would still get married—right away. She understood his need to finish school. But she had expected something more from him after all the times they'd made love following her pregnancy test. They'd moved past being friends, she'd thought. His need to escape her had hurt.
She'd hurt him right back. God, had she ever let her temper have its way with her as she'd sent him away.
Life had since taught her to contain more volatile emotions. "You always did have a soft spot for causes."
One hint of what waited for her back in Savannah and he would grease up in cammo to take on her ex in some commando raid. All the more reason to park her butt back in Rubistan. She'd quickly discovered how little help the police could be against Kent with his wealth and power. Even her parents hadn't believed her, instead buying into Kent's less messy explanation of postpartum depression.
The icy press of an assassin's gun to her temple had not been a delusion. Only quick reflexes and an escape to Rubistan had saved her life.
Danny sank into the seat beside her. "I assume you were the one who nudged the economic attaché to call me."
His firm thigh molded to hers. She nodded, swallowed. "Uh-huh."