Morgan's Hunter (39 page)

“Are you okay, honey?”

She steeled herself against the tenderness in his voice and his three simple words. Was she okay? No. She was anything but.

Gathering the last of her emotional reserves, she darted him a glance, just barely meeting his gaze, nodded. She swallowed against the tight ball in her throat. “Yes, Dad, I’m fine.”

God, she needed to get out of here, to get back to her own house. A quick hug for her mom, then she would go.

She stepped through the door, into the light of the grand entryway. Her mom shot up from an antique chair. “Oh, thank God.”

Morgan walked into her outstretched arms. The familiar scent of Chanel, the comfort of her mother’s soft hair against her cheek broke her completely. Unable to hold back any longer, a sob escaped her lips.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” her mom cooed close to her ear. Before Morgan could resist, her mother ushered her up the stairs, leaving her father sputtering behind.

Morgan lay on the pretty canopied bed, the one she’d slept in every night until she left for college, and cried as she never had before. The weight of helpless grief had grown too heavy, finally needing its release. Her mother lay beside her, brushing her fingers through her hair.

Her mother soothed with gentle words, reminding Morgan her friends were in a better place. Morgan realized her mom thought she cried over her ordeal in Yellowstone. She let her. It wasn’t important for anyone to know Hunter Phillips had shattered her heart.

Long after her mom left her alone, Morgan lay against the pale pink comforter, empty, devastated. A tear trailed down her cheek and she swiped it away, vowing it was the last tear he would ever get. There would be no more crying over Hunter.

Although it was well past eight, Morgan sat at her desk filling out paperwork. The halls were quiet, the other offices dark. Most of the staff, except for the cleaning crew, had long since left for the evening, but she wasn’t ready to go yet. When she stayed busy she didn’t have time to think.

The small print on the documents in front of her blurred. Morgan rubbed her tired eyes, knowing it was time to stop. She’d let herself into the office at dawn. After fifteen hours of meetings and paperwork, her mind was finally sluggish, her body exhausted.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the back of her chair, massaged her throbbing temples. Hunter’s grinning face flashed through her thoughts, sneaking past her wall of defense, bringing a fresh wave of pain.

With a defeated sigh, Morgan gathered a stack of files to lose herself in should sleep elude her—as it often did—and placed them in her briefcase. With her purse on her shoulder and her briefcase in hand, she locked up.

Instead of going to her empty house, she hopped the elevator, rode two floors to her father’s suite. The chrome door slid open and a smile of relief ghosted her mouth. Light blazed through his door. Morgan walked down the hall, stood in his doorway, watching him sign documents stacked in a tidy pile left by the ever-efficient Helen. She knocked, smiled when he looked up.

He frowned, concern shining bright in his eyes, before his features softened with understanding.

Morgan wanted to run to him, to snuggle against him and weep like she had as a child. There’d been a time when a gentle tug on her pigtails and a kiss on the forehead made everything better.

That wouldn’t solve anything now, and she would break the promise she’d made herself the night she’d returned from Montana.

Her father smiled, studying Morgan’s face. “Hi, Peanut. You’re still here.”

“I had some work to finish up.”

He continued to stare, nodded, as she circled around the desk to kiss his cheek. The bold red and black insignia of Ethan Cooke Security caught her eye. The itemized invoice covered two full pages. The grand total, typed in the box at the bottom, was insane.

Hunter had saved her life and broken her heart for the bargain price of forty-eight thousand dollars and change.

“I see the bill finally arrived.” She picked up the papers, and her dad snatched them back.

“Yes. The check will go out in the morning. Have a seat, Morgan. You look like you’ll fall on your face any minute.”

She sat in the leather chair in front of the desk. Her lack of sleep was catching up to her, leaving her feeling floaty from exhaustion. Fighting it, dismissing the weakness, she eyed the invoice, stared at her father. “I want to pay for everything myself.”

“Absolutely not. That isn’t necessary.”

“Please. It’s important to me.” After this she would owe Hunter nothing—all debts would be paid. In less than a month, he’d taken everything from her that mattered, but knowing she could do this for herself was an opportunity to start taking some of it back.

“Morgan, hiring Hunter was my decision. It’s my bill—and a big one at that.”

“I’ll use my trust fund.”

“You’re grandfather didn’t set it up—”

“Please don’t fight me on this.” A hint of desperation tinted her voice.

He blew out a long breath and relented. “All right, if it’s this important to you.” He handed her the bill.

“Thank you.” She tucked the papers into her purse.

“Have you given any more thought to the vacation I suggested? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need a vacation. There’s too much to do. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in paperwork since we’ve been back.” She didn’t need to rest. All she needed was her work. If she’d paid more attention to her job while in Yellowstone, she wouldn’t be where she was now.

“Exactly. Three weeks of nothing but paperwork is enough to make anyone go crazy, especially someone who spends most of their time in the field.”

“Things will change soon enough. I’m heading to L.A. next week to take Shelly’s position for the month, then I have the field assignment in Maine. We’re going to find that damn lynx if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Will you call Hunter while you’re in California?”

Morgan looked down, escaping her father’s questioning gaze. “No. I don’t know why I would. We had a business relationship. It’s over. I’ll send off the check and that will be the end of that.” God, she hoped so.

Late that night, as she sat in her silky pajamas by the soft light of her lamp, Morgan tore up another sheet of paper, threw it in the wastebasket. Why couldn’t she find the words? Draft after draft of the note she wanted to send with Hunter’s portion of the bill were all wrong. This was her last chance to say goodbye. She desperately needed the closure. Perhaps that was why she had nothing to say. How could she say goodbye when all she wanted to shout was ‘I love you’?

Drowning in despair, Morgan rested her weary head against her folded arms. She missed him desperately. The last three weeks had been hell without him. She’d thrown herself into her work with a vengeance, attacking reams of paperwork, rolls of red tape so she could complete the lynx project.

Finishing the assignment had become paramount; it would give her the opportunity to close two painful chapters in her life. With the accomplishment, she could let the memory of her team members rest, and it would be one less reminder of a time focused so fully on Hunter.

The hard work she’d put in to get the green light from the hesitant new Board of Trustees had been a gift of solace, leaving her little time to think—until late at night, when sleep wouldn’t come, just as it wouldn’t now.

Thoughts snuck up then, in the darkness, thoughts that consumed and tore at her heart. They always circled back to remind her that Hunter had been able to walk away so easily.

Memories filled the night while she lay in bed staring at the red glow of her clock—his smile, the sound of his voice, the feel of his touch. Each morning, the pearly light of dawn would come, bringing another day of work and sweet relief from the heavy weight of heartbreak.

Because there was nothing she could do to change what was, she did everything in her power to forget. What choice did she have but to go on? She filled her work schedule to overflowing, committing herself to project after project for the next six months.

In the end, Morgan stuck only the check in an envelope, addressed it, set it with the stack of mail she would send out the next day. The envelope lay on top of the package containing the Tupperware bowl. There was no happy picture to send along with the container that once held chicken and dumplings, only a short evasive note of thanks for the Besters.

Hunter pulled the mail from the box outside his door. He flipped through envelopes, stopping when the Bureau’s official insignia caught his eye. He stepped inside his tiny kitchen, ripped the envelope open. Pain fisted in his stomach as he zeroed in on Morgan’s pretty signature sprawled over the bottom right hand corner of the whopping check.

God, he
missed
her. A day hadn’t passed where he didn’t think of her, wanting her, needing her. He’d picked up the phone several times only to slam it back down. He’d bought a plane ticket to D.C. but canceled it. Night after night he woke sweaty from nightmares where Morgan’s blood covered his hands.

And that was the problem. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t live through losing someone again. If it had taken him even one more second to get to her, he would’ve lost her. That thought tortured him every single day, haunting him.

Morgan was gone, but on his terms. It was all for the best. She would move on, make a life she deserved.

Hunter sat in a chair, sinking further into misery as he thought of her finding another, as he thought of someone else looking into her eyes as they darkened with passion, of her making promises for a lifetime that wouldn’t be with him, of her body growing round and more beautiful with a child that wouldn’t be his.

He ripped her check into tiny shreds, threw the pieces in the trash, picked up the ugly o- ring he hadn’t been able to toss away.

“My Mr. Ruff. My mama. My Unke Hunte,” Kylee exclaimed enthusiastically from the back of Sarah’s sedan.

Sarah turned in the passenger seat, watching her daughter grin and bounce about while holding her stuffed dog, Mr. Ruff. In a matter of hours she and Kylee would be in Florida, spending seven days and six nights at the happiest place on earth.

Hopefully Disney lived up to its advertising; she was counting on it. But first they had to survive the long plane ride without annoying two hundred other passengers. Glancing back at her energetic daughter, she worried. With any luck, Kylee would tire herself out on the drive to the airport and sleep for at least some of the flight.

It would’ve been so much easier to drive the hour to Anaheim and spend a couple of days at Disneyland, but Jake had always wanted to go to Epcot. This was for Jake as much as for Kylee. Remembering that, she dug down deep for her sense of adventure. Everything would be fine.

Sarah directed her attention toward Hunter, tuning out the noisy chatter coming from the back. “Thanks for dropping us off. Ethan was going give me a hand, but he had to take that last minute assignment.”