Bound by Honor: Mercenary's Woman. Diana Palmer
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can’t complain, I guess, except that they won’t let me drive anymore,” she said, tongue-in-cheek.
“Wait until they get that virtual reality vision perfected,” he said easily. “You’ll be able to do anything.”
“Optimist,” she said, grinning.
“Always. I’m taking these two over to the ranch for a little course in elementary self-defense,” he added quietly.
“Good idea,” Jessica said at once.
“I don’t like leaving you here alone,” Sally ventured, remembering what she’d been told about the danger.
“She won’t be,” Eb replied. He looked at Jessica and one eye narrowed before he added, “I’m sending Dallas Kirk over to keep her company.”
“No!” Jessica said furiously. She actually stood up, vibrating. “No, Eb! I don’t want him within a mile of me! I’d rather be shot to pieces!”
“This isn’t multiple choice,” came a deep, drawling voice from the general direction of the hall.
As Sally turned from Jessica’s white face, a slender blond man with dark eyes came into the room. He walked with the help of a fancy-looking cane. He was dressed like Eb, in casual clothes, khaki slacks and a bush jacket. He looked like something right out of Africa.
“This is Dallas Kirk,” Eb introduced him to Sally. “He was born in Texas. His real name is Jon, but we’ve always called him Dallas. This is Sally Johnson,” he told the blond man.
Dallas nodded. “Nice to meet you,” he said formally.
“You know Jess,” Eb added.
“Yes. I…know her,” he said with the faintest emphasis in that lazy Western drawl, during which Jess’s face went from white to scarlet and she averted her eyes.
“Surely you can get along for an hour,” Eb said impatiently. “I really can’t leave you here by yourself, Jess.”
Dallas glared at her. “Mind telling me why?” he asked Eb. “She’s a better shot than I am.”
Jessica stood rigidly by her chair. “He doesn’t know?” she asked Eb.
Eb’s face was rigid. “He wouldn’t talk about you, and the subject didn’t come up until he was away on assignment. No. He doesn’t know.”
“Know what?” Dallas demanded.
Jessica’s chin lifted. “I’m blind,” she said matter-of-factly, almost with satisfaction, as if she knew it would hurt him.
The look on the newcomer’s face was a revelation. Sally only wished she knew of what. He shifted as if he’d sustained a physical blow. He walked slowly up to her and waved a hand in front of her face.
“Blind!” he said huskily. “For how long?”
“Six months,” she said, feeling for the arms of the chair. She sat back down a little clumsily. “I was in a wreck. An accident,” she added abruptly.
“It was no accident,” Eb countered coldly. “She was run off the road by two of Lopez’s men. They got away before the police came.”
Sally gasped. This was a new explanation. She’d just heard about the wreck—not about the cause of it. Dallas’s hand on the cane went white from the pressure he was exerting on it. “What about Stevie?” he asked coldly. “Is he all right? Was he injured?”
“He wasn’t with me at the time. And he’s fine. Sally lives with us and helps take care of him,” Jess replied, her voice unusually tense. “We share the chores. She’s my niece,” she added abruptly, almost as if to warn him of something.
Dallas looked preoccupied. But when Stevie came running back into the room, he turned abruptly and his eyes widened as he stared at the little boy.
“I’m ready!” Stevie announced, holding out his arms to show the gray sweats he was wearing. His dark eyes were shimmering with joy. “This is how they look on television when they practice. Is it okay?”
“It’s fine,” Eb replied with a smile.
“Who’s he?” Stevie asked, big-eyed, as he looked at the blond man with the cane who was staring at him, as if mesmerized.
“That’s Dallas,” Eb said easily. “He works for me.”
“Hi,” Stevie said, naturally outgoing. He stared at the cane. “I guess you’re from Texas with a name like that, huh? I’m sorry about your leg, Mr. Dallas. Does it hurt much?”
Dallas took a slow breath before he answered. “When it rains.”
“My mama’s hip hurts when it rains, too,” he said. “Are you coming with us to learn karate?”
“He’s already forgotten more than I know,” Eb said in a dry tone. “No, he’s going to take care of your mother while we’re gone.”
“Why?” Stevie asked, frowning.
“Because her hip hurts,” Sally lied through her teeth. “Ready to go?”
“Sure! Bye, Mom.” He ran to kiss her cheek and be hugged warmly. He moved back, smiling up at the blond man who hadn’t cracked a smile yet. “See you.”
Dallas nodded.
Sally was staggered by the resemblance of the boy to the man, and almost remarked on it. But before she could, Eb caught her eyes. There was a look in them that she couldn’t decipher, but it stopped her at once.
“We’d better go,” he said. He took Sally by the arm. “Come on, Stevie. We won’t be long, Jess,” he called back.
“I’ll count the seconds,” she said under her breath as they left the room.
Dallas didn’t say anything, and it was just as well that she couldn’t see the look in his eyes.
IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO TALK in front of Stevie as they drove through the massive electronic gates at the Scott ranch. He, like Sally, was fascinated by the layout, which included a helipad, a landing strip with a hangar, a swimming pool and a ranch house that looked capable of sleeping thirty people. There were also target ranges and guest cabins and a formidable state-of-the-art gym housed in what looked like a gigantic Quonset hut like those used during the Second World War in the Pacific theater. There were several satellite dishes as well, and security cameras seemingly on every available edifice.
“This is incredible,” Sally said as they got out of the truck and went with him toward the gym.
“Maintaining it is incredible,” Eb said with a chuckle. “You wouldn’t believe the level of technology required to keep it all functioning.”
Stevie had found the thick blue plastic-covered mat on the wood floor and was already rolling around on it and trying the punching bag suspended from one of the steel beams that supported other training equipment.
“Stevie looks like that man, Dallas,” she said abruptly.
He grimaced. “Haven’t you and Jess ever talked?”
“I didn’t know anything about Dallas and my aunt until you told me,” she said simply.
“This is something she needs to tell you, in her own good time.”
She studied the youngster having fun on the mat. “He isn’t my uncle’s child, is he?”
There was a rough sound from the man beside her. “What makes you think so?”
“For one thing, because he’s the image of Dallas. But also because Uncle Hank and Aunt Jessie were married for years with no kids, and suddenly she got pregnant just before he died overseas,” she replied. “Stevie was like a miracle.”
“In