Текст книги "Striking Distance"

Автор книги: Pamela Clare

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Sitting in the backseat, she called her mother, whose surprised squeal almost split Laura’s right eardrum. “I’m not sure why I’m here. He just told me to catch a flight, and so I came.”

“This must have to do with Klara. Do you think she’s here?”

Laura couldn’t fathom how that could be possible. “The last I heard from him, the Pakistani government had no idea where she’d been taken. Even if they’d found her again, it would take months to win custody of her.”

Still Laura dared to hope.

Was it possible that Klara would be flying home with her?

The thought made her pulse trip.

“Ring us as soon as you know.”

“I will.”

Pumped up on caffeine and adrenaline, she looked out the window, the familiar streets of Stockholm seeming strange to her, the city awash in the grays of clouds, sea, and rain. It was only when they passed Rosenbad, the street that was home to the foreign ministry, that she realized he wasn’t taking her to Erik’s office. He headed into Östermalm, passing Humlegården and the Royal Library before turning into a gate that led to a private courtyard of a three-story residence.

The car drew to a stop. “The minister is expecting you, Miss Nilsson.”

Laura thanked the driver and stepped out, the air chilly. She made her way to the black double doors and rang the bell, too tense to stand still.

If the Swedish government had somehow won Klara’s freedom, why couldn’t Erik simply tell her so over the phone? Why was it so essential that she come to Stockholm at once? Was it possible that something terrible had happened, that they’d discovered Klara had been killed or . . . ?

Laura’s stomach turned, even as her logical mind told her Erik wouldn’t have made her fly halfway around the world to get bad news. She drew a deep breath, tried to rein in her imagination.

The door opened.

Erik gave her a tired smile, lines of stress on his face, his blond hair looking like he hadn’t combed it since getting up. “Come in. Did you have a good flight?”

“Yes. All the connections went smoothly.” Laura stepped inside and wiped her feet, wishing Erik would skip the small talk and tell her why she was here.

“Let’s step into my office.” He motioned toward a closed door to her right.

She followed him inside—and froze.

“Javier?”

He stood by Erik’s desk wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, a smile on his handsome face. “Hey,

bella

.”

* * *

JAVIER WAS IN deep shit, but the moment he saw Laura, that no longer mattered. He couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face. “God, it’s good to see you.”

She rushed into his arms and held him tight, as if she thought he might disappear. “What are you doing here?”

Had it been only two months since he’d seen her? It felt like an eternity.

“That’s a long story.”

Erik’s voice cut in. “Mr. Corbray is under house arrest. He claims he acted alone, but I find that rather hard to believe. He showed up on my doorstep early yesterday morning with Klara in his arms—”

“Klara is

here

?” Laura looked from Erik to Javier, eyes wide.

Javier nodded, unable to keep from smiling. “She’s a beautiful little girl, Laura. She has your face and the sweetest blue eyes—”

Erik interrupted. “Mr. Corbray took Klara by force and entered Sweden illegally. I should report him to police, but instead I’ve confined him to my home and am doing my best to keep this secret. On the one hand, I don’t want it to become an international incident. On the other, I don’t want to break the law. But if I follow official procedure, I would have to hand Klara over to the Pakistani delegation. That is the dilemma Mr. Corbray brought to my door.”

Laura’s eyes were still wide, and it was clear to Javier that she wasn’t picking up anything Erik was saying. “M-my daughter . . . is

here

?”

“Yes, she is.” Erik went on. “I have been working round the clock with a few individuals in the Swedish government to ensure that Klara can remain in the country. We’ll give her Swedish citizenship, give her a Swedish passport, but this is all very irregular. If the parties in Pakistan come forward—”

“I’ve already told you. Al-Nassar’s brother is not going to talk.” But Laura didn’t need to hear any of this. Javier cupped her face in his palms. “Klara has already been seen by a doctor, and she’s okay. They took DNA, and it checks out. She’s your little girl. There’s no doubt.”

“But how—”

Erik glowered at Javier. “Let’s hear that story again, because I don’t think you’ve told me the truth yet.”

Javier hadn’t told the truth, but he wasn’t going to incriminate any of the guys who’d helped him out, not even Tower. He told Laura the basics, not mentioning that he’d been part of a team of five. If anyone was going to hang over this, it would be him. “I went in after dark armed to the teeth and demanded they turn her over to me.”

Laura looked up at him. “I can’t believe the navy sent you by yourself.”

Javier cleared his throat. “They didn’t send me,

bella

. When I went to Coronado, it was to resign from NSW. I was given an honorable discharge from the Teams and set this up on my own.”

“Oh, my God, Javi.” Laura gaped at him. “You gave up the Teams?”

In the end, it hadn’t been a hard decision.

“I couldn’t let them keep her from you any longer.” Javier knew Laura’s mind must be reeling from all of this.

Her blond brows came together in a look of worry. “Did Klara cry when you took her away? She must have been terrified.”

“I sedated her.”

Laura blinked. “You . . . You drugged her?”

“I got a dose of sedatives from a pediatrician before I left the U.S. She slept in my arms the entire trip.” He’d watched her sleep, tiny eyelashes on her cheeks, one little hand tucked beneath her chin, and had fallen hard for the sweet little thing.

Like mother, like daughter. They both steal your heart,

cabrón

.

“Can I see her? I want to see her.”

Javier was surprised she’d held out this long.

Erik seemed to relax, anger fading from his face. He smiled. “Yes, of course. She’s upstairs having breakfast with my wife and the girls. I’m sorry to go on like this. I wanted you to understand the gravity of the situation.”

She took Erik’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Erik, for all you’ve done.”

Erik led the way up the stairs toward a kitchen, the sound of little girls’ voices and a woman’s echoing down the hall.

Javier held Laura’s hand, an unreadable expression on her pretty face. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. The whole thing was more than a little overwhelming for him, and Klara wasn’t his daughter.

Though he hoped maybe one day she would be.

He watched Laura’s face as they entered the kitchen. Her gaze fell on Klara and went soft, tears shimmering in her eyes, a tremulous smile curving her lips.

Klara sat on a booster chair, her dark brown hair in neat pigtails, a look of distress on her tiny face, little tears on her cheeks.

Heidi, Erik’s wife, hurried over to Laura and hugged her, speaking in English for Javier’s benefit. “It’s so good to meet you at last, Laura. Klara is such a darling, such a sweet little girl, but she won’t eat. She won’t touch anything but her bottle.”

Then Klara looked over at Laura, mother and child making eye contact for the first time. And Javier’s vision went strangely blurry.

CHAPTER

32

LAURA LOOKED AT the daughter she’d never seen, taking in the sight of her from her long brown hair to her bright blue eyes to her sweet face, her features so like Laura’s that they reminded Laura of baby pictures she’d seen of herself. She felt a visceral need to hold Klara, her throat suddenly so tight she couldn’t speak. And although Laura didn’t know much about babies or children, she knew that Klara was desperately unhappy.

She looked up at Laura, tears on her cheeks, her lower lip sticking out, a bottle sitting on the table before her.

Laura went to her at once, kneeling down beside her and speaking in Arabic. “Are you hungry, sweet one?”

Klara clearly understood her, her gaze now fixed on Laura.

Laura looked at the food on the table. Hard-boiled eggs. Cod roe. Cucumber.

Knäckebröd.

Corn flakes. “Heidi, do you have any French bread, maybe some yogurt or jam or a banana? I don’t think she recognizes any of this as food.”

“Of course.” Heidi bustled around the kitchen, then set a half-eaten loaf of French bread on the table with a jar of strawberry jam and a ripe banana, her four-year-old twins Stella and Anette watching with wide eyes, their red hair in little braids.

“She hasn’t eaten food like this before,” Laura explained to the girls in Swedish.

She sat in a chair beside Klara, tore a small piece of bread off the loaf, and put a dab of strawberry jam on it, then held it out for Klara.

Klara took it, stuck it in her tiny mouth, and reached for another.

“More,” she said in Arabic, her tiny voice like bells.

It was the first word Laura had heard her speak.

“You want more?” Laura tore another piece off, dabbed it with jam, and held it out for her, unable to keep herself from smiling. “You’re such a sweet girl.”

“Mama?” Klara glanced around, fear in her eyes, her little lip quavering again.

Laura knew she was looking for Safiya.

She couldn’t imagine what Klara was feeling—being taken from the only world she knew, falling asleep, and waking up in a scary new place surrounded by strangers, everyone speaking a language that made no sense. Though it was good for Klara that she was no longer living in a hive of terrorists, Laura would have done anything to make this easier on her, to minimize the disruption in her life.

She stroked her little girl’s cheek. “You’re going to have a new mama, and a new name, a new home. I know it won’t be easy at first, but you’re safe now, Klara.”

Laura tore several more small pieces of bread off the loaf and set them on the plate in front of her daughter, then did the same with the banana, watching in absolute fascination as Klara picked them up with her chubby little hand and put them in her mouth one by one. It stunned Laura to think this little person had come from inside her. Klara was so sweet, so perfect, so completely innocent.

Laura looked over at Javier, tears of happiness spilling down her cheeks. “Isn’t she beautiful, Javi? Isn’t she beautiful?”

He smiled, his voice strained when he answered. “Just like her mother.”

* * *

LAURA CALLED HER mother and grandmother to share the news. Erik sent a car to pick them up, and Laura felt like she was lost in a dream as she watched her mother and grandmother meet and hold Klara for the first time.

“She reminds me so much of you, except for the color of her hair, of course,” her mother said. “Oh, she’s adorable, Laura!”

While Javier faced the consequences of his actions alone, answering questions in Erik’s office, the three of them spent the morning with Klara, holding her when she seemed to want to be held, guiding her as she shyly explored her new surroundings, watching as the twins found ways to draw her into a kind of play that needed no language, doting on her like big sisters. When Stella gave Klara a kiss with a stuffed puppy, Klara laughed, the sound magical to Laura’s ears.

“Mommy, I made her laugh!” Stella beamed.

As the girls played, Heidi and Laura’s mother got into a conversation about raising daughters—and about the challenges Laura would face.

“We don’t know if she’s gotten any of her vaccines,” Heidi said. “We don’t know what illnesses she’s had. We don’t know if they’d started potty-training her at all. But it will all sort itself out in the end.”

“How did Javier do this?” Laura’s mother finally asked.

Laura shared what Javier had told her. “I still can’t believe it. He gave up his career with the Teams for this.”

“He loves you,” her mother said. “Love makes us strong.”

“I sure hope they don’t plan on doing what he did and coming after her,” Heidi said. “One reason Erik is keeping this so quiet is to prevent Al-Nassar’s people from knowing where Klara is. We always have security because of his position with the government, but I wonder if he should increase it.”

The thought of Al-Nassar’s family trying to take Klara from her again made Laura’s stomach knot.

“It will be much harder to keep her out of the public eye in the States,” her mother told Heidi. “The American press has followed Laura like jackals since her rescue.”

Heidi turned to Laura. “How are you going to avoid the media?”

Laura hadn’t figured any of that out yet. “This was all so sudden. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

Her mother rubbed a hand on her back and gave a laugh. “You’d better start thinking about it soon,

älskling

.”

And Laura realized there were a lot of things she needed to consider.

* * *

JAVIER MET WITH one government official after the next—some military, some civilian. He couldn’t keep their names or titles straight. It was his second day of interrogation—very polite interrogation. They spoke with Erik in Swedish, then looked sternly at him and asked questions in English.

And Javier answered.

No, this operation was not approved by the U.S. No, it hadn’t been authorized by the navy or NSW either. Yes, it was true that Javier had left the SEALs. Yes, he’d gone to Pakistan alone. No, he hadn’t killed anyone. No, he couldn’t tell them how he’d gotten in and out of Pakistan or how he’d known where to find Klara.

No one asked him

why

he’d done it. They all understood the brutality and injustice of what had been done to Laura. They knew it was better for Klara to grow up with her mother and not among terrorists. So, although they threatened Javier with arrest and incarceration more than once, it became clear to him that they were going to let him go—but not without a few stern lectures.

They finally finished with him around lunchtime. Javier made his way upstairs, where he met Birgitta, Laura’s mother, and Inga, her grandmother, in person.

Birgitta shook his hand, hugged him, kissed his cheek. “I could never find the words to thank you for all you’ve done for my daughter. You love her, I know, and she loves you. I’m so happy for both of you.”

Inga smiled. “You are very handsome man—very brave, too, I think.”

That’s when Javier remembered they’d seen him buck naked and shaved bare. He felt heat rush into his face and hoped to fuck he wasn’t blushing. “Thank you, ma’am.”

He joined the family upstairs for lunch, watching as Laura prepared a plate of food for Klara—leftover roasted chicken, some kind of pea salad, and more banana.

Birgitta sat beside him and leaned close, laying her hand atop his. “I know what you sacrificed to free Klara. If there’s ever anything I can do, please let me know.”

He looked over at Klara, who was smiling up at her mother. “Seeing them together makes it all worth it.”

Hell, yeah, it had been worth it. And yet . . .

If you’re not a special operator, Corbray, what are you?

It was time for him to figure that out.

* * *

LAURA’S MOTHER AND grandmother went home before supper, not wishing to impose on Erik and Heidi, whose lives and routines had been turned upside down by Javier’s unexpected arrival. Laura spent every moment of the day caring for Klara—playing with her, reading to her, changing her diaper. She gave her a bath after supper, entranced to see her daughter laughing and splashing in the water. And then it was bedtime.

Laura settled herself in a rocking chair, gave Klara her bottle, and began to rock her to sleep. She looked down at the sweet girl in her arms, her heart so filled with love that it seemed to swell. Some part of her had been afraid this moment would never come, that she would never touch or set eyes on her daughter. But here Klara was, a little miracle, her smile enough to light Laura’s world, her laughter pure joy.

From the hallway beyond, Laura heard Erik and Javier speaking.

“Heidi asked me to bring on more security, but I told her she had no reason to worry. They have no idea Klara is here. Only when Laura appears in public with Klara will they know for certain where she is.”

“I’m hoping they know better than to come after her. I tried to explain to them how dangerous it would be for them to try.”

“Danger means little to a terrorist who finds glory in death.”

Laura’s heart raced to hear them talk like this. She’d always thought that freeing Klara would be the end of the nightmare, not a new beginning. Al-Nassar’s threats from the courtroom came back to her.

I am in chains, but I shall be free in Paradise, while

you

will always live in fear. You will never be safe, nor will anyone you love.

She looked down at her daughter, held her tighter, the feel of her precious in her arms. Klara was almost asleep now, dark eyelashes resting on her cheeks, her little body limp, an expression of complete peace on her face. So small and helpless, she didn’t know how cruel the world could be, didn’t know she was the daughter of a man who had killed hundreds, didn’t know that the world would be titillated by her very existence. She was just a tiny child.

And it was Laura’s job to give her the best, safest life she could.

Laura set her carefully in the crib, taking the bottle from her hands and tucking a warm blanket beneath her chin.

“Sleep well, Klara. Dream of angels.”

She had a few precious minutes alone with Javier, several of which were spent kissing on the sofa. “What are they going to do with you?”

“I’m under unofficial house arrest until we leave.”

Relieved for him, she rested her head against his chest, still stunned to think he’d left the Teams for her, gone all the way to Pakistan, and come away with Klara. “When we get home, I want the whole story.”

“What makes you think I haven’t told you the whole story?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Call it reporter’s intuition.”

Soon it was time to go. Erik summoned a car for her, and Laura found herself under her mother’s roof in the bed where she’d slept so well and so deeply as a teenager. She’d had such big dreams in those days, her future overflowing with possibility.

But tonight she didn’t sleep, and she didn’t dream, Al-Nassar’s threat echoing in her mind.

* * *

JAVIER KNEW SOMETHING was wrong the moment he saw Laura’s face the next morning. She looked like she hadn’t slept, her eyes red from crying. She spent a few minutes with Klara and then asked to speak with Erik and Javier somewhere private. Erik led them to his office and shut the door.

Laura looked at neither of them but sat up straight, her face expressionless apart from the despair he saw in her eyes. “I have done a great deal of thinking and soul-searching, and I have decided to . . .” Her voice quavered. “I have decided to give Klara up for adoption to a Swedish family.”

Javier couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He found himself on his feet. “What the hell? You can’t be serious.”

“I think she is.” Erik motioned for Javier to sit down. “Laura, why don’t you tell us what has led you to this?”

“There are two reasons.” She cleared her throat. “The first and most important is safety. There is no way to know that Al-Nassar’s family or his followers won’t strike out at me or try to take Klara from me again. You heard Petras. ‘Being on a terrorist kill list is a lifetime commitment.’ The threat hasn’t gone away. What’s to stop them from coming after her and taking her the way you did, Javier?”

“

I’ll

stop them.”

She gave him a soft smile. “I know you would do everything possible, even give your life for her if it came to it, but I don’t want you in harm’s way either. If Klara were adopted in secrecy here in Sweden, they’d never know what became of her.”

“We can hire security, get a team of guys—”

“Javier, please listen.” Laura closed her eyes for a moment, as if fighting to control her emotions. “There’s also the fact that her father is a convicted terrorist. If Klara grows up with me, she will learn the truth sooner rather than later. Someone will tell her, or she’ll read an article about me on the Internet. She will have to spend most of her life knowing that her father was a murderer and that she was born as the result of rape while her mother was in captivity. I want to spare her that.”

Javier felt like he’d been kicked in the chest, his rage so dark and thick that he could scarcely put it into words. “After all I did to get her for you, you’re just going to give her away?”

Laura met his gaze, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Javier. But what you did—it wasn’t for nothing. Don’t you see? You freed her. You got her away from a group of killers who would have given her a terrible life. I can’t change the choice you made, but your choice saved her. Now, it’s up to me to do what’s best for her.”

“I love her. I love that little girl. I held her in my arms all the way here.”

And Javier realized that this was at the heart of his rage.

He loved little Klara. The thought of losing her . . .

“I love her, too, and that’s

why

I have to give her up. I won’t put her at risk or compromise her happiness for the sake of my own.” Laura looked pleadingly at Javier as if begging him to understand. “I want her to grow up knowing only that she is safe and cherished. I don’t want the ugliness of my captivity with her biological father to be the first page in the story of her life. I don’t want her to grow up looking over her shoulder and knowing she’s the daughter of a mass murderer.”

Laura’s words began to pierce his anger and grief. He reached over and took her hand. “You know I’d do anything and everything to keep your little girl safe.”

She nodded. “You’ve already done more than any other man could.”

Erik’s face was grave. “Are you absolutely certain, Laura?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am. I would like to find a family that would be willing to send me photographs and let my mother and grandmother visit her from time to time—if it is safe.”

“Do Birgitta and Inga know about your decision?”

“I told them this morning. They are very upset, of course, but they understand.”

“If you are certain, then might I suggest an adoptive family, one that meets the criteria you listed?” Erik asked. “Heidi and I would love to adopt your little girl.”

* * *

IT WAS SETTLED very quietly and very efficiently.

Over the course of the next week, Klara was given Swedish citizenship. Adoption papers were drawn up and signed. Laura taught Heidi some basic Arabic words to help her communicate with Klara until Klara learned Swedish. Erik and Heidi held a private christening ceremony at the nearby Lutheran church where Laura stood as godmother to her own child, Javier and her mother and grandmother standing beside her.

“What is the child’s name?” the priest asked.

Erik and Heidi gave Laura the honor of making that announcement.

Laura felt a moment of triumph speaking her daughter’s true name. “Her name is Klara Marie.”

Laura spent her last morning in Stockholm feeding Klara breakfast, playing with her, reading to her, doing her best to memorize the sound of her little voice, the sweet scent of her skin, the feel of her in her arms. When it was time for Klara’s nap, Laura settled her in her crib, stroking her downy hair until she fell asleep.

“I am so sorry, Klara. I’m sorry you came into the world in such a rough way. I’m sorry these past several days have been so scary for you. And I’m so sorry I have to leave you now. But it’s best for you this way. Heidi and Erik will love you. Stella and Anette will be your big sisters. You will have a family to love and cherish you. I will see you again one day. I love you with everything I am, Klara, and I always will, no matter how far apart we are. Sleep, my girl. Dream of angels.”

She felt Javier behind her.

“The car is here,

bella

. Our luggage is loaded. It’s time to go.”

Laura nodded, bent down, and pressed a kiss to Klara’s cheek.

Somehow, she managed to walk away from the crib without crying, something inside her screaming that Klara was hers.

Her

daughter.

Her

child. Taking one wooden step after another, she followed Erik and Heidi as they and their twins walked her and Javier to the waiting car.

“We will take care of her, Laura.” Heidi hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes. “Thank you for the beautiful gift you have given us.”

“We’ll be in touch every week.” Erik gave Laura a hug. “You are a very courageous woman. I promise you that Klara will learn the truth when she is ready, and she will be proud to be your daughter.”

“Thank you—for everything,” Laura said.

Javier helped her into the backseat, then sat beside her. And the car began to move—out the gate, down the street, around the corner.

And Laura broke.

With a cry, she sank against Javier, her grief spilling out in broken sobs.

* * *

FEELING HELPLESS, JAVIER held Laura tight all the way to the airport. He held her on the twelve-hour flight to New York. He held her on the connecting flight to Denver. He held her on the cab ride from Denver International Airport to her loft. He held her as she cried herself to sleep.

He held her because there was nothing else he could do—and because some part of his heart had broken, too.

CHAPTER

33

LAURA AWOKE TO find herself still nestled in Javier’s arms, his head on her pillow. But she wasn’t ready to face the day—or the rawness of her own emotions. She snuggled against his chest and let herself doze, the steady beating of his heart against her cheek.

It was almost noon when her stomach woke her.

Javier brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

They brushed their teeth, and Laura couldn’t help but laugh when she saw how puffy her eyes were. “I look terrible.”

He kissed her. “You look beautiful.”

They made breakfast together as they’d done during the weeks he’d stayed with her, Javier making the coffee, Laura putting together omelets and toast, the joy she felt at being with him helping her to keep her grief at bay. After two months of living by herself, it felt good to have him here again, something about his presence making the loft feel more like a home. Wanting fresh air and sunshine, they carried their plates outdoors and sat at the little table on Laura’s balcony, the streets of LoDo alive with lunch-hour traffic and busy pedestrians.

Laura sipped her coffee, the familiar taste almost making her sigh. “Mmm. I’ve missed this.”

He grinned at her over the rim of his coffee cup, his gaze warm. “So have I.”

She knew he wasn’t talking about coffee.

But it was time.

“Are you going to tell me what really happened?”

He set his cup down. “This can’t go beyond us. You can’t even tell your mother and grandmother.”

“I understand, and I promise.”

Laura listened as he told her the whole story. How he’d begun planning for the trip to Pakistan before he left Denver. How he’d contacted a few guys from his platoon he knew he could trust, putting together a volunteer black-ops team that included Tower.

“He feel he owes you—and he does. Turns out that he’s not just an asshole. He’s damned good at his job. He speaks as many languages as you do, has connections everywhere. He got quick intel on Klara for us, handled our supplies and transportation. The man blends in with the locals, just disappears in a crowd. He was a vital member of the team, that’s for damned sure.”

He told her what had happened once they’d gotten inside the house, what he’d said to Al-Nassar’s brother and Safiya. Perhaps his threats of violence against them should have shocked her, but they didn’t.

Instead, they felt like a tiny step toward justice.

“Once I was airborne with Klara, the others flew back to the States on separate flights. Tower took my combat gear with him so I didn’t have to hassle with that. When I got to Stockholm, I called Erik, told him who I was and who was with me. He sent a car to the airport.”

“How did you find him or know to go there?”

“You mentioned him—and I searched your e-mail in-box. I turned his name over to Tower, who did the rest.”

She stared at him. “You searched my e-mail?”

He shrugged. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it? You can’t argue with success.”

She glared at him. “Oh, I can argue all right. Don’t tempt me.”

“You’re not seriously ticked, are you?”

“No, not really. You could have asked, though.”

He shook his head, took her hand. “I didn’t want you to know anything about this. I didn’t want any of the blame to fall on you if the op went sideways—and I sure as hell didn’t want you to spend every day for the next two months worrying.”

“I don’t know how to feel about the fact that Derek Tower and a handful of your team buddies know about Klara now.”

“They all wanted to help,

bella

. They feel a kind of connection to you. They saw how it was there. They know what you went through. They didn’t want to leave your little girl there. And not one of them will breathe a word of it.”

“Will you or the others get in any trouble for this?”

Javier shook his head. “We pulled it off. No one was killed. If NSW hears about it, they’ll probably look the other way.”

The enormity of what Javier had done hit Laura.

“Do you realize that yours were the first caring hands to hold her?” She laced her fingers through his, brought his hand to her mouth, and kissed it. “I still can’t believe what you did for me, for her. You gave up your spot on the Teams. You risked your life, your freedom.”

His lips curved in a soft smile. “I guess I found something that matters more to me.”

“What you did—it was so incredibly selfless.”

He gave a slow shake of his head, his eyes looking into hers. “Nah,

bella

. What you did for that sweet baby girl—

that

was selfless. You love her so much that you gave her up, even though it tore you apart.”

And the grief Laura had been fighting so hard to keep at bay welled up inside her, the ache behind her breastbone growing sharp. “I was only her mother for a handful of days, but in that time, I was a pretty good mother, wasn’t I?”

“You were the best.” A muscle clenched in Javier’s jaw, and he gave her hand a squeeze, a fierce light in his eyes, his voice rough. “Hold on to that in your heart and never forget it.”

Laura fought tears. She didn’t want to cry again. “I only spent nine days with her, but, God, I miss her.”

“So do I.”

* * *

AFTER BREAKFAST, LAURA found an e-mail with photographs of Klara. In one, Erik was holding Klara up so that she could pet a pony at Anette and Stella’s riding lesson, a look of wonder and delight on her little face. In another, Klara sat in her booster chair in a pretty blue dress with cake all over her hands and face—part of an adoption party they’d thrown to celebrate with family and close friends.