“I told her you’d left. Told her about the call. I—”
Outside, car doors slammed, and Connor tensed.
“That’ll be your father and Grant,” his mother said. “I called the office on my way here, and they said they’d be right behind me.”
“Julia? Darby?” his father called as he and Grant hurried through the back door. They stopped and scanned the room full of faces, their expressions eager. “Where is he?”
In seconds, the volume in the kitchen rose exponentially as everyone began talking on top of each other and emotions swelled.
“Connor! We thought you were dead!”
“I don’t understand. Where have you been?”
“Mommy, can Uncle Connuh play with me? Mommy?”
“Hunter, please take Savannah to her room.”
“Honest, Con, I texted her before I knew—”
From the living room, Raleigh and Jones appeared, clearly having heard the commotion. “What the hell?” Raleigh growled. “Sam, who are these people? And what part of ‘you can’t tell anyone you’re alive’ did you interpret as ‘have a welcome home party?’”
Her eyes wide, Savannah shrank behind Darby as the two large men in scrubs, strangers to her, stormed in and barked at him. The fright in his daughter’s eyes was the last straw.
Stan Mansfield, Connor’s father, stepped toward Raleigh, his shoulders back. “I could ask the same of you. Who—?”
Connor put his thumb and finger in his mouth and whistled for quiet. “That’s enough!”
Everyone settled down, facing him with startled looks.
“You’re scaring Savannah,” he said, casting a warning gaze to the offending adults. Moving to kneel by his daughter, he tugged lightly on her sleeve. “Hey, sweetie, sorry about all that noise. I believe your mom asked you to take Uncle Hunter to your room for a while. Why don’t you do that now?”
Savannah bobbed her head, then asked softly, “Will you play with me, too?”
He smiled and stroked her arm. “I would love to. Let me finish talking to the grown-ups, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Okay?”
Hunter took his cue and lifted Savannah into his arms, tickling her side. “Come on, princess, I was hoping I’d get the chance to kick your tail at Chutes and Ladders.”
“No, I’m gonna kick your tail!” Savannah said with a grin.
Darby sent him a grudging half smile. “Thanks.”
He pushed to his feet and squeezed Darby’s arm. “We’re on the same side.”
“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” his mother asked, her voice cracking. “Connor, who are these men? Why did they call you Sam? Where have you been all these years?” She paused and wiped at her eyes, then in a lower voice asked, “Are you in the CIA?”
Connor chuckled as he faced his mother. “No, Mom. Not the CIA.” He took a deep breath. “I’m in WitSec.”
Connor spent the next hour explaining his situation to his family, despite the marshals’ objections. “They might as well hear the truth,” he’d countered. “They know I’m alive, and the best way to reign in the situation now is to lay out the stakes, give them the background and our reasoning for staging my death.”
When Jones scowled and paced the kitchen, mumbling sourly, Connor had quipped, “Unless you’d rather erase their memory with one of those Men in Black flashy sticks. You have one of those, right?”
“Can I tell Tracy?” Grant asked. “I don’t like the idea of keeping something this big from my wife. She won’t say anything.”
“And what about my family? My mom and sisters?” Darby asked. “They should know. Especially since Savannah knows him as her uncle Connor. If he does end up donating his marrow, I’d think it would come out.”
“No!” Raleigh said with a huff of frustration. “We need to shut this down. It doesn’t go any further than this room.” He pointed at Connor, adding, “And you should have kept to your cover with the little girl. Big mistake telling her your name was Connor.”
“I told her that because she recognized the family resemblance. She knew I was a Mansfield brother before I opened my mouth.” Connor tapped his fist on the kitchen table and divided a look between the marshals. “Here’s the deal. Half of the family knows I’m alive. Protecting my cover made sense when we thought I could slip into town, meet with the doctor and get out again without anyone knowing the truth. I didn’t consider the fact that my DNA test would rat me out or that the doctor’s office would call Darby about the discrepancy in what she’d told them about Savannah’s father.”
He rubbed a hand along his cheek, weighing his options, and when he encountered the prosthetic beard, he groaned and peeled it off. “At this point, I can’t see any point in keeping up the charade. I say let Grant tell Tracy. Let Darby tell her family. They need to be aware of the potential threat so that they can take necessary precautions. And as Darby pointed out, if I do donate my marrow to Savannah, it will be harder to keep my identity secret.”
“You really think these men, the Gale brothers, will come after you?” his mother asked.
“I do. They think I betrayed them.”
“They have a history of going after people they feel have crossed them,” Jones said, his jaw tense. “We have to take the threats they made against Sam seriously.”
“His name is Connor,” Darby said with a defiant glare.
“Not anymore,” Jones countered.
“All right.” Connor raised his hands, signaling for a ceasefire. “I think, despite our intentions, the horse is out of the barn as far as my cover goes.”
“He’s right.” Jones gave Raleigh a level look, then turned an accusing glare at Darby.
She recognized the accusation and sat taller, stiffening, her expression defensive as she sputtered, “I didn’t—the doctor’s office called me and—how was I to know—”
“It’s not your fault. No one’s blaming you.” Connor sent Jones a hard look and put a supportive hand on Darby’s arm, which she jerked away. “But you raise another good point. Savannah’s doctor needs to know the truth. My biological connection to Savannah could be relevant to Savannah’s care. Also however many members of her staff as needed to contain the speculation already circulating in the office.”
Raleigh rocked back on two legs of his chair, scrubbing both hands over his face. “God bless America, Sam. What happened to staying in town only long enough to talk to the kid’s doctor then getting the hell outta Dodge? You can make the donation from Dallas, can’t you?”
All eyes swung toward Connor, and his pulse rose, torn between what he knew would keep his family safe and his selfish desire to stay and get to know his daughter, patch things up with Darby, spend precious time with his family.
“Yeah, the doctor said I could donate from Dallas, if I proved a close enough match.” A stir of reaction interrupted him, sighs of disappointment from his parents, grunts of satisfaction from the agents. He looked to Darby, needing some measure of where her heart was. Her jaw was tight with stubborn anger, but her green eyes were full of pain and discontent. “But she also said the ideal arrangement, the way she preferred, was for me to be here.”
As he repeated the doctor’s words, a certainty washed through him, a resolve that settled the debate warring inside him. “I want only the best for Savannah. If I can be my daughter’s donor, I’ll do it from here. Even if it is only marginally better logistically, I want ideal circumstances for my little girl.”
Darby’s