The Cradle Mission. Rita Herron

not knowing how to answer. Eric had had a nice voice. She just prayed he truly hadn’t died because of her.

      A drop of sleet hit Cain Caldwell’s cheek, another pelted the ground below. Dead leaves fluttered into his black hair, across his leather jacket and onto the ground, but he seemed oblivious to the cold or the weather. Except for the black irises of his eyes. They burned with an intensity that seared her.

      “Your brother was a good man,” she said, knowing in her heart it was true. He had planned to help her. No questions asked.

      “Yes, he was.” His jaw twitched slightly, the only indication her comment had affected him. “Not everyone realized that, though. Sometimes he liked to straddle the line of the law.”

      “He…I’m so sorry he’s gone.”

      Again that twitch in his jaw. “Tell me why you’re here.” His gaze flickered over her. Then Simon.

      As if Simon realized he was being scrutinized, he squirmed in her arms, one fist sneaking out of the blanket. She tucked it back and soothed him, not wanting the cold air to touch his skin.

      “I…I need to go.” She gestured toward Simon. “I don’t want him to get sick.”

      She moved quickly to escape him, but Cain pulled her toward him, holding her so close his breath bathed her face. He’d obviously neglected to shave, and the dark stubble of his beard looked abrasive. She heard his teeth grind as he clenched them.

      “It’s no coincidence that someone murdered my brother the same day you showed up needing help,” he said in a low growl. “Tell me what you’re afraid of and who you’re running from.”

      She had no idea what to do or what to tell him. But his fingers dug into her arms tighter, almost to the point of pain. If he thought she had caused his brother’s death, would he take his anger out on her? Would he turn Simon over to the scientists searching for him or expose his birth circumstances publicly?

      A shudder coursed through her. She could not let him do that to Simon.

      His grip tightened as he stared deeper into her eyes. The way the guards on Nighthawk Island had handled her, their brutal force and threats suddenly rushed back, haunting her. She jutted her chin in the air, hoping the shiver in her body didn’t betray her show of bravado. “I’m running from men like you.” She purposely lowered her eyes to his hand where his fingers held onto her.

      His gaze dropped to his hand, too, and he went still. He released her so suddenly that she stumbled backward, then caught herself and leaned against the tree to calm her nerves.

      “I’m sorry.” His apology gushed out, so quick and gruff that she blinked to make certain she’d heard it. Then she saw him glance at the bruises on her wrist, and his anger transformed into regret. He held his hands up and frowned at them, then stepped away from her, as if to give her the freedom to leave if she wanted. “I won’t hurt you.”

      She nodded stiffly, as uncomfortable with this tender side as she had been with his gruff exterior.

      “I simply want some answers.” He jerked his head toward the mound of his brother’s grave. “He was my baby brother. My…my only family.” He cleared his throat, pain lacing his thick voice. “I…I have to know who killed him.”

      Alanna closed her eyes, the raw grief in his words pulling at her heartstrings. How could she help him without endangering herself or Simon? Polenta’s warnings reverberated over and over in her head. She couldn’t trust him…

      “A…an ex-boyfriend is after me. He…” Lies tumbled through her mind. What would he believe? What would make him want to help her, not harm her or Simon?

      “He’s the one who hit you?”

      She nodded, shame washing over her for deceiving him. But Simon’s safety was the only thing that mattered. “I’m afraid he’ll hurt the baby.”

      “The baby’s his?”

      Before she could answer, a gunshot pierced the air. Cain pushed her and Simon behind a tree, and they both hit the ground, shielding Simon with their bodies.