Текст книги "Striking Distance"
Автор книги: Pamela Clare
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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
Javier looked at the photos with Laura, happy just to see the smile on Klara’s face—and the relief on Laura’s. “She’s going to be fine,
bella
. See that?”
He gave Laura some privacy so that she could write a reply, taking time to check in with the men to tell them what had happened in Stockholm. Speaking in code, he told them that Laura hadn’t brought her daughter home—and that no one could ever hear about his little side trip to Sweden. To a man, they got choked up when they heard what Laura had done for her little girl, Tower most of all.
A half hour after Javier called him, he showed up at Laura’s door. “We need to set you up with VPN, Ms. Nilsson. If you’re going to be sending regular e-mails to Sweden, you’re going to want your communications to be secure.”
“Please, call me Laura.” She walked over to him, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for helping to save my daughter.”
“I’m glad I was there.” He smiled at Laura, the look in his eyes setting off Javier’s radar. “I just want to tell you that I respect you to the core. What you did must have been hard as hell.”
“Thank you. And yes—it was.”
“She’s an incredible woman,” Tower said to Javier later when they were alone. “If you ever decide to move on—”
“Not a chance, dawg. Don’t even go there, or it’s back to me thinking you’re just an asshole, got it?”
If Laura would have him, Javier was here to stay.
* * *
LAURA SPENT THE late afternoon unpacking and doing laundry—hers and Javier’s—while he and Derek set up her VPN. It felt good to do something mindless. The simple act of folding clothes and putting things in their place made her feel like she was restoring some kind of order to her world.
Tomorrow she would return to her daily routine. She would head to the paper, catch up with Sophie and the others, and pick up the investigation she’d dropped when Erik called. And everything would be the way it had been before.
No. No, that wasn’t true.
Everything was different now.
The realization dawned slowly, settling behind Laura’s breastbone, the truth of it sending ripples through her.
Two weeks ago, Klara had been a captive, living with terrorists. But now she was free and settled out of harm’s way. Two weeks ago, Laura hadn’t known when she would see Javier again. But now, he was here with her. What’s more, he had
chosen
to be here with her. And he loved her.
Her world had changed so quickly that she hadn’t fully comprehended it, hadn’t yet come to appreciate it, her grief over Klara making it hard to see anything else. No, things hadn’t turned out exactly the way she’d hoped they would. Still, the pieces of her life were finally falling into place, so many of her fears swept away.
Klara was seeing and doing things she’d never done before. She had a mother and father who loved her, who would give her a safe home, and two big sisters who adored her. She would go to school, learn to read, and grow up to make her own choices about how to dress, how to live, whom to marry. It was everything Laura had ever wanted for her and more.
And Javier.
He’d left the Teams and was free to start a new life for himself. He hadn’t said much about what he wanted to do next or how long he planned to stay in Denver. But she knew he loved her. Whatever he wanted to do, wherever he wanted to live, she would make it work for both of them.
She’d had a lot of time to think during those long weeks after he’d left, and she knew what mattered most to her. Yes, her career was important, but life was too short and uncertain to spend focused on a job. When Kimball had held that knife to her throat, she hadn’t been sorry about time she wouldn’t spend in the newsroom and articles she wouldn’t get to write. She’d regretted not having had more time with Javier.
Her gaze fell on the laundry basket, his socks and boxer briefs mixed with her panties, their jeans tangled. She hadn’t been looking for a man, hadn’t been looking to fall in love. But somehow, in the midst of her pain and fear and grief, life had seen fit to give her this precious gift.
And from far away she heard her grandmother’s words.
Allt kommer att bli bättre med tiden.
Everything will get better with time.
* * *
AFTER SUPPER, THEY went for a walk along the river to help work off the jet lag, the evening air cool and fresh, golden light spilling over the mountains. The Platte was running high and fast, swallows dipping down for water, cottonwood trees standing on the far bank, their leaves shivering in the breeze.
Javier held Laura’s hand, savoring the moment as they talked about everything and nothing in particular. It felt good just to be with her like this—nothing to do, nowhere to be. Then she asked a question that caught him by surprise.
“If you went back to Coronado and told NSW you’d made a mistake, do you think they’d take you back?”
Did she want him to go?
“Probably.” He’d had more than one friend who’d turned in his Trident only to show up a few months later in uniform again. “Why do you ask?”
“You loved being a SEAL. I hate to see you walk away from something that means so much to you. I don’t want you to regret that later.”
So she was still feeling guilty that he’d left his career behind.
“Come on.” He led her off the path and walked toward the riverbank, where they could talk without cyclists whizzing by. He sat on a rounded boulder and drew her down beside him, her hand still in his.
“I didn’t resign just because I was about to go off and break international law,
bella
. I gave the Teams fourteen good years, and I realized it was time for me to go.”
“But three months ago you were so determined to get back to active duty.”
Yeah, he had been. But that had changed.
“You were right about me—you and Nate. Part of the reason I joined the Teams was to prove to myself and my family that I wasn’t a loser. I guess I thought I could somehow make up for what happened with Yadiel if I was just good enough. I realized that nothing I did—no amount of medals or successful missions—could bring him back or change who I am. I realized that if I wanted to build a life for myself outside the navy, I needed to start now. I’m thirty-eight and not getting any younger.”
“What are you thinking of doing?”
He was glad she asked. He’d been meaning to bring this up. “Not sure yet. McBride said he might have a place for me on his team as a deputy U.S. Marshal on the state’s fugitive task force. Tower wants the two of us to form our own security company now that Tower Global is gone. I need to think about it.”
“So . . . would that mean staying in Denver?” She spoke the words with a deliberate casualness that made him smile.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I walked away from you in Dubai,
bella
. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Is that your not-so-subtle way of suggesting we drop the ‘no strings attached’ clause from our relationship?”
“I want strings, Laura.”
She arched a blond eyebrow. “What kind of strings?”
“Nothing too crazy. I was thinking maybe I could have a couple of drawers for socks and underwear, maybe a rack in your closet, some space in the bathroom, my own parking place. Maybe I could even be your steady guy.”
She was smiling now. “You want to move into the loft and
go steady
with me?”
He raised his hands to her face, cupped her cheeks, told her what was really in his heart. “Or you could marry me instead.”
Her eyes went wide, her pupils dilating.
Adrenaline?
“I know it’s a big step from no strings to rings,
bella
, but I fell in love with you that first night in Dubai. It just took me a while to realize it. I thought there’d be time. I thought I’d find you, but then you were gone. This love we feel for each other, it’s special, and I want to take hold of it with both hands.”
Laura looked into Javier’s eyes, the intensity she saw there making her pulse race. He’d just asked her to marry him. She hadn’t expected this. Not yet, anyway.
She had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could speak. “Are . . . are you sure? I’m on a terrorist kill list. Do you really want to live your whole life—”
“Looking over my shoulder?” His gaze traveled over her face. “Yeah, I do. In case you haven’t noticed, bad guys don’t scare me. What scares me is the idea of not being here when you need me.”
There was one other thing.
“You come from a big family with lots of brothers and sisters. Are you sure you won’t regret not being a father?”
He looked as if he might laugh. “I want to marry
you
, not your uterus. If I want to spend time with kids, I’ve got a dozen nieces and nephews. But there’s also a sweet little girl in Stockholm who means a lot to me. I didn’t have a thing to do with bringing her into this world, and I won’t raise her. But I held her life in my hands for a few priceless hours, and there’s a part of me that considers her
ours
. I want us to watch her grow up together.”
Tears blurred Laura’s vision, his words touching the most tender part of her, the tightness in her throat making it hard to speak.
He frowned and wiped a tear from her cheek, apparently misunderstanding. “If it’s too soon, I understand. I didn’t mean—”
“Yes.” She answered without the slightest hesitation or the tiniest shred of doubt.
“Yes?” He seemed confused. “You said
yes
.”
She laughed. “What did you think I was going to say?”
“Well, I . . .”
And she understood. “You didn’t plan this, did you?”
Like everything about him, it was spontaneous, sincere, straight from his heart.
“I wanted to ask you one day when the time seemed right, but we started talking and . . . Hell, I don’t even have a ring.” He looked into her eyes, his knuckles caressing her cheek. “I’m naked here,
bella
, just laying myself out for you, telling you how I feel.”
Something inside Laura melted to see this big, strong man so completely vulnerable. “What you’ve done for me . . . I never thought I’d feel this whole again. You helped me put the pieces of myself back together. But if my whole world fell apart again tomorrow, the piece I couldn’t live without is
you
. Your love has been my salvation, and I don’t want to live an hour of my life without you.”
He ducked down, kissed her slow and deep, then drew back, a look of astonishment on his handsome face. “
¡Anda pal carajo!
I’m going to marry you. Who’d have thought that a woman as classy and beautiful as you would end up with a
Boricua
kid from the South Bronx?”
Before Laura could say a word, he scooped her up in his arms and swung her in a circle, shouting for the world to hear.
“¡Wepa!”
She shrieked, laughed, then found herself on her feet again, held tight in his arms.
“You won’t regret this,
bella
.”
She smiled, kissed him. “I know.”
They turned toward home, walking hand in hand.
For someone who’d never wanted to get married, Laura suddenly couldn’t wait. “We could get a license tomorrow and get married on Saturday.”
“Nah, that won’t do. Mamá Andreína would kick my ass. If my
abuelita
is not at the wedding, we’re not married.”
“So what you’re telling me is that this is going to be a case of ‘My Big Fat Puerto Rican Wedding’?”
He chuckled. “See what you got yourself into?”
But Laura wouldn’t change it for the world.
EPILOGUE
Seven months later
Private island of El Conquistador Resort
Off the eastern tip of Puerto Rico
LAURA WALKED HAND in hand with Javier toward a pair of waiting beach chairs, the sea breeze catching her hair, sand warm against the soles of her bare feet. She looked up and down the beach for Erik, Heidi, and the girls. “Do you see them?”
“They’re probably eating lunch.”
She’d forgotten it was almost noon. “I guess we slept late.”
“Sleep had nothing to do with it.” Javier grinned.
Grandma Inga and Mamá Andreína sat side by side beneath a beach umbrella of palm fronds. Javier’s two sisters, Ana and Nayelis, were having an animated conversation while sunning themselves on beach towels. Sophie, Megan, Kat, Tessa, and Kara sat in the sunshine closer to the water, talking and watching their kids play together in the sand. Marc, Nate, Julian, and Kara’s husband, Reece, had taken on some of Javier’s former Team buddies in a game of beach volleyball—John LeBlanc, Brian Desprez, Chris Ross, and Steve Zimmerman.
“If you’re going to call it, Hunter, at least hit the damned ball.”
“If your foot hadn’t tripped me, Dickangelo, I would have.”
“You guys do know how to play this game, right?” Reece asked.
“They probably learned the rules by watching women in bikinis play,” Nate said.
John ended the bickering. “You ladies going to talk or play volleyball?”
Meanwhile, Holly sat in her bikini in the shade near the bar holding court with three of Javier’s male cousins—while sneaking covert glances at the shirtless SEALs in the volleyball pitch.
Natalie and Zach were nowhere to be seen. She had a good idea where they were. Having been married for almost two years now, they wanted a baby.
Laura glanced out over the waves, saw someone dangling a hundred feet in the air from a parasail that was being towed by a boat. “Oh, God! Is that Gabe up there?”
Javier glanced up. “Looks fun, doesn’t it?”
“
Suicidal
is more the word I was looking for.”
They settled into their beach chairs. Laura peeled off the short dress she’d worn as a cover-up, the sun warm on her skin, her body feeling languid from a morning of sleeping in, room service, and sex. She pulled a tube of sunscreen out of her beach tote, rubbed it into her exposed skin.
“Sure you don’t need help?” Javier watched her, his eyes hidden by sunglasses. “You’ve got a lot of skin, and I’ve got two big hands.”
“Can you put it on my back?” She turned away from him, drew her hair aside.
“You got it.” He took the tube from her, planting a kiss on her neck before he began to rub the cream into her shoulders.
They had arrived in Puerto Rico three days ago amid a whirlwind of nightlong parties and wedding preparations, men from Cobra International Solutions, Javier and Derek’s security company, having come to the island two days earlier to make certain the place was secure. Laura had left most of the planning to the resort—one of the best decisions she’d made in this entire process. She’d been able to join in the parties and get to know Javier’s parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins, and nieces and nephews, rather than worrying about arrangements. And she’d been able to spend a little bit of each day with Klara, who had just turned three in December.
Many of their friends had flown in for the ceremony, and although some had already returned home, most saw this as their chance to have an all-expenses-paid vacation. True, Laura and Javier had spent a fortune, but it had been important to them to have the ceremony they wanted, one that brought together their far-flung families and friends for a once-in-a-lifetime celebration. They didn’t face the future expense of children—no strollers, no braces, no prom, no cars, no college to pay for—so why not make the most of their special day?
And it had been perfect.
The ceremony had been held amid palm trees and tropical flowers atop a cliff overlooking the ocean, far from the prying eyes of the media. Laura had felt at peace, a gentle breeze tugging on her veil as she and Javier had spoken their vows. She would never forget the look in his eyes as he’d slipped the wedding band on her finger—happiness, desire, and enough love to last a lifetime.
The reception had gone on through the night, with music, dancing, drinking, and singing. Laura and Javier had passed out
capias
–little tokens of the wedding that included the date and their names and were an old Puerto Rican tradition—and then sneaked away for a private celebration of their own.
Laura couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful wedding—or wedding night.
“You’re all greased.” Javier finished, handing Laura the sunscreen, and leaned back in his chair.
Laura tucked the tube back in her bag and settled in beside him.
Nearby, Grandma Inga and Mamá Andreína erupted into peals of laughter. They’d been inseparable since the wedding—a true odd couple. Laura’s grandmother was tall and spoke not a word of Spanish, and Mamá Andreína was petite and spoke no Swedish. The only thing they had in common was white hair and a tiny bit of conversational English—and the fact that their grandchildren had just gotten married.
“What do you think the two of them are talking about?”
“No clue. Can they even understand each other?”
“Have they been drinking again?”
“Your grandma is a bad influence on mine.”
Laura gave a laugh. “It’s the other way around. Look at the bottle they’ve tucked between their chairs. Isn’t that Mamá Andreína’s
licor de chinas
?”
Javier craned his neck. “What’s she doing with that? That shit is illegal, man.”
A homemade brew of rum and oranges, it was one of the most delicious liqueurs Laura had ever tasted, but it was strong.
And then Laura saw them.
Stella and Anette appeared first, bounding on foal-like legs across the sand, both wearing their red hair pulled back in ponytails. Klara ran after them on little legs that couldn’t quite keep up, the sight of her putting a bittersweet ache in Laura’s chest. She wore a little pink tankini, her dark hair drawn back in a long ponytail, a pink sun hat on her head, green plastic sunglasses covering her eyes. She was adorable.
Heidi called to the twins in Swedish, her hands full of beach toys. “Stella! Anette! Wait for your little sister!”
“She’s grown so much already.”
Javier rested his hand on Laura’s. “She’s going to be tall like her mother.”
Laura watched as the twins turned back for Klara, each of them taking her by one hand and leading her toward the water, Heidi behind them.
“Aw.” Javier grinned. “Now that was cute.
“Those girls really do love her.”
Javier chuckled. “Look at that poor bastard.”
Clearly the family’s beast of burden, Erik had appeared dragging a rolling cooler while carrying two beach bags and five folding beach chairs, two for adults and three little ones for the girls. Wearing a blue tropical shirt that he hadn’t bothered to button over a green pair of swim trunks, and a pair of loafers on his feet, he reminded Laura of every Swedish father she’d ever seen on the beach—indulgent of his family and not very fashionable.
Laura looked back toward the girls playing in the sand. Klara sat, legs splayed, digging with a plastic shovel and making dubious contributions to a sand castle that her two older sisters had begun. Heidi knelt beside them, a happy smile on her face. She looked up, saw Laura watching, and motioned for her to join them. “Would you girls like your aunt Laura to play with us?”
“Yes!” the twins answered, Stella looking over at Laura and waving.
“You go spend time with that sweet baby girl of yours.” Javier sat up, kissed Laura’s cheek, then called to Erik. “You look like a man who needs a hand.”
“Oh!” Erik laughed, two of the little beach chairs slipping from his fingers. “I suppose I do.”
Laura walked across the sand, her pulse picking up as she sat down beside Klara. “What are you all building?”
“A sand castle,” the twins answered.
Klara looked up at Laura with guileless blue eyes. Speaking in Swedish, she parroted Anette and Stella. “Sand castle.”
Laura met the gaze of the wonderful woman who was raising her child. “Thank you, Heidi, for letting me join in. Thank you for everything.”
Nineteen years later
Los Angeles, California
JAVIER STOOD AT the side of the stage, watching as Laura gave the commencement address at Klara’s college graduation at USC Annenberg’s School of Journalism. Earpiece discreetly in place, he listened as his men checked in with one another. Tower was directing this operation, but Javier had come strapped anyway, body armor and a concealed 9mm beneath his suit jacket. Although it was unlikely that anything would happen today, he wasn’t taking chances.
College officials had let slip that Laura would be addressing her goddaughter’s graduating class, and the media had picked up on that. One paper had even run a photograph of Klara. Though almost twenty years had gone by since Javier had carried Klara out of Pakistan, there was a possibility, however remote, that someone would put the pieces together. He, Tower, and a team from CIS were there to make sure no one got near her.
And then there was Laura’s safety to consider.
Her very presence here had caused a stir. As the face of the nation’s top prime-time news program—the network had fired Gary Chapin and brought her on board the moment they’d heard she was interested in returning to broadcast journalism—she was more of a celebrity than she’d ever been, her ordeal a matter of public knowledge. Although there hadn’t been a credible threat against her in a decade, the public nature of the event would give anyone who wanted to harm her an opportunity.
But so far, all had been quiet.
“It is true that reporters see both the best and the worst that human beings have to offer. Over time, it gets hard not to be cynical. It will take a lot of integrity on your part to keep your mind and heart open, to see beyond the brokenness and dysfunction of the people you meet, to be that voice for the voiceless.”
Javier knew Laura’s speech by heart. She’d been nervous about it and had asked him to listen as she’d read it a half dozen times. Javier knew the cause of her nerves wasn’t a lack of confidence in her own abilities, but the fact that Klara was in the audience. Their little angel was graduating summa cum laude with a degree in journalism. She’d been inspired by her aunt Laura, whom she looked up to and loved, and despite Laura’s suggestion that she follow a new and exciting path that was all her own, Klara had been determined. She wanted to become a reporter.
Journalism was clearly in the girl’s DNA. She had already lined up an internship with the
L.A. Times-Sentinel
, and she’d done it without Laura’s help. Her excitement for the job reminded him so much of Laura that it scared the shit out of him. So far she hadn’t talked about going overseas to work, and for that he was grateful.
He loved the girl, loved her like she was his own daughter.
“Remember that life is not just your career. A career is what you do. It’s not who you are. This was a lesson I had to learn the hard way. You’d be surprised how fast your priorities rearrange themselves when there’s a knife being held to your throat.”
Laura’s speech was almost done. Javier could see that her audience was transfixed. He knew what they saw when they looked up at her, because it was what he saw every day—a beautiful woman with a big heart, a courageous survivor, a person who’d been through the worst and had come out stronger and more determined to make a difference in her world.
They saw a hero.
“When you leave this ceremony today, you walk in the footsteps of a dozen generations of American journalists whose job it has been to shine a light into the darkness. They made their mark on the history of our nation. Stand strong, think with your heart, and you will make yours. Congratulations, graduates of the class of 2033.”
The audience of students and parents rose as one to its feet, the applause deafening. Onstage, Laura shook the university president’s hand and those of several professors, a smile on her face. She took her seat, while the president asked the students to stand, invited them to move their tassels, and pronounced them graduates.
Cheers. Flying beach balls. Mortarboards in the air.
Laura came down the steps, the question in her eyes.
He answered before she could ask. “You nailed it. That was fantastic.”
“You think so?”
“Did you miss that standing ovation?”
She smiled. “I didn’t want to disappoint Klara.”
He saw Klara making her way toward them, a bright smile on her sweet face. “I don’t think you did.”
“Aunt Laura!” Klara ran up, dressed in her black robe, and threw her arms around Laura. “That was beautiful. I got tears in my eyes.”
“Congratulations, sweetheart! I’m so proud of you. We’re both so proud of you.”
Klara hugged Javier and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “You look so handsome, Uncle Javi. I’m not used to seeing you in a suit. But what’s this?”
She punched his body armor lightly, teasing him. She knew what he did for a living, had seen him in body armor more than once.
“That’s my toned and muscular body.” Javier flexed his bicep. “You think your beautiful aunt would hang around with just any guy?”
Klara laughed, her smile making her look even more like her mother. “Are you coming to dinner with us?”
“Of course!” Laura glanced at her watch. “I want to head back to the hotel and change, but we’ll meet you in the hotel lobby in an hour and go together.”
“Perfect!” Klara danced off through the crowd, beaming, her long, dark hair spilling down her back.
* * *
LAURA STRETCHED OUT beside Javier, bliss still singing through her. Sex was the best way she knew to release stress. “We may be old, but we’ve still got it.”
“Who’s old?” He drew her closer, kissed her cheek. “You’re a hot and sexy fifty-two, and I’m a badass fifty-eight. Fifty is the new twenty. You think any of those kids at today’s graduation has a sex life that comes anywhere near to ours? We’re just getting started,
bella
.”
Someone knocked on the door. “Aunt Laura? It’s Klara.”
“Carajo!”
Fighting not to laugh, Laura jumped up, grabbed her bathrobe, and slipped into it, while Javier grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. She called toward the door. “Wait just a moment.”
When Javier was safely in the bathroom, Laura unlocked and opened the door. She could tell immediately that something was wrong.
“Come in, Klara. What is it?” She instinctively switched to Swedish, but Klara, who was very proud of her fluency, continued in English.
“You did a wonderful job today.”
“Thank you.” Laura tucked a dark curl behind Klara’s ear. “Are you okay?”
Klara nodded, her gaze averted, her expression clearly troubled. She paced the length of the room. “I had a long talk with my parents just now.”
“Oh, I see.” Laura knew that Erik and Heidi wanted Klara to come home to Sweden rather than staying in the U.S. “Is this about the internship?”
Klara shook her head, her fingers fidgeting with her rings. “I made them promise that when I finished college they would tell me who my real parents were.”
Laura felt blood rush from her head, her heart pounding so deafeningly she didn’t know Javier had stepped out of the bathroom until she felt his hand against the small of her back. “What did they say?”
Klara met Laura’s gaze, tears in her eyes. “They told me
you
are my mother.”
The words sent a jolt through Laura, making it hard to breathe.
“Let’s all go sit down.” Javier guided her to one of the chairs on the other side of the hotel room. “You need anything—water, coffee, tea?”
Laura shook her head, her gaze fixed on the young woman who sat across from her—her daughter.
So the day had come.
She wished Erik and Heidi had warned her. Despite the selfish side of her that would have loved Klara to know, she hadn’t wanted her girl to be burdened with this. She didn’t know what to feel, happiness, worry, and grief tangling inside her.
“Yes, Klara. It’s true.” Laura reached out, took Klara’s hand in hers. “I am your biological mother. What else did they tell you?”
“Everything, I think.” Klara shared what Erik and Heidi had told her, and it
was
everything. “They said you gave me up for adoption because you were afraid that bastard Al-Nassar’s relatives might come to steal me back.”
“There was more to my decision than that.” Laura gave Klara’s hand a squeeze, fought not to give in to tears. “You were so precious and innocent. I didn’t want you to grow up knowing how you’d come into the world. I knew that if I returned to the U.S. with you, the media would figure it out. Not only would Al-Nassar’s family know where to find you, but you would grow up with that knowledge in your heart. I didn’t want that for you. I can’t imagine how painful it has been for you to hear all this now.”
Klara’s blue eyes were clouded with emotion. “I’ve hated that man since the day I found out what he’d done to you. It’s hard to imagine that he’s actually my father.”
“Ever since Javier rescued you, you have been surrounded by love. Erik and Heidi loved you so much that the moment I realized I couldn’t keep you, they offered to adopt you. Stella and Anette adore you. My mother, your aunt Birgitta, loves you, and although you might not remember much about her, my grandmother loved you, too.”
“I remember her.” Klara smiled. “She was fun. And Aunt Birgitta is really my grandmother. Wow.”
Then a look of realization came over Klara’s face. “I always thought all of the security we had when you came to visit was because of what had happened to you. I never understood that part of it was for me. It was, wasn’t it?”
Laura nodded. “We all worked as hard as we could to keep your relationship with me and your location secret all these years.”
“That’s why you have to keep this to yourself.” Javier explained the risks to Klara, told her what she could and couldn’t do, her eyes wide by the time he finished.
“How do you feel?” Laura asked her.
“I’ve always loved you and admired you. I went into journalism because of you.” Klara’s chin quivered. “I’m proud to be your daughter.”
She stood, reached for Laura.
And Laura took her daughter into her arms, unable to hold back her tears. “Oh, Klara,
min älskling
.”
Years of fear, grief, heartache seemed to pass through Laura at the pure joy of this moment. She felt Javier behind them, felt his strong hand on her shoulder as he did his best to support them both.
Klara gave a little sniff. “I hate knowing how much you suffered, and that I was a part of that.”
Laura drew back, wiped Klara’s tears away. “You were never to blame. You were a victim of it the same as I was. From the first moment I saw you for the first time at your parents’ house, you’ve been nothing but a joy for me.”
“I’m glad I know.” Klara smiled. “I’ve always wondered why my mother left me. Mom and Dad always said she had given me up because she wanted what was best for me. I always wondered why she didn’t try harder to overcome her problems or whether there was something about me she just didn’t like. But now I understand. You never really wanted to give me up, did you?”
