Kylie Brant - Undercover Bride

Her words interrupted his reverie. “You spoke of family earlier. Do any of them visit you here?”

His gaze dropped and he reached for his wine again. “No. I go to San Francisco to see them every month or so.”

His answer was just short of brusque, but it didn’t stop her from probing further. “Do they share our convictions for the future of the white race?”

The music changed, into something moody and melancholy. “My family is very traditional and extremely stubborn. We’ve agreed to disagree about what I’ve chosen to do with my life.” Because the admission was accompanied by a twinge of regret, he pushed his chair back and rose. “Are you finished? It’s still early. I could show you the grounds.”

Rachel stood, a genuine smile curving her lips. “I’d like that.”

The grounds, she soon learned, consisted of a lush, well-kept lawn surrounded by three hundred acres of land. The compound had been built on a plateau surrounded on two sides by the picturesque Sawtooth Mountains. As they rounded the house, Rachel saw again the buildings that dotted the vicinity, and asked about them.

“Some are living quarters for the troops. The few families here have their own homes. Kevin lives in one with his daughter. Careful.” His hand lightly touched her elbow. “The walk there is uneven.” The shiver his touch evoked was due to the rapidly cooling temperature, she assured herself. The sun was already bleeding across the sky. “The other buildings are for training purposes. The troops follow a daily regimen…weaponry instruction, hand-to-hand combat and so forth.”

He was describing a day much like any other she’d spent within various militias. “I spent quite a bit of time in the Comrades compound teaching hand-to-hand tactics and martial arts. I’d be interested in seeing your facility, even in providing some instruction if there’s a need for it.”

She caught him smiling, and arched her eyebrows. “You find that amusing?”

He held up his hands placatingly. “I’m not impugning your talent, believe me. But I don’t like the thought of you wrestling with some of these gorillas here.”

“Gorillas don’t frighten me.” Still intent on scanning the area, she started a little when he slipped his gray suit jacket over her shoulders.

“You’re shivering. The temperature drops quickly at night. Would you like to return to the house?”

She wasn’t about to give up the opportunity to explore the compound further. “No, I’m fine.” To her chagrin, he veered from the direction of the buildings, steering her to the gardens beside the house.

“You may enjoy taking a closer look at the garden tomorrow. Chad, the gardener, does a marvelous job.” Even in the swiftly lengthening shadows, Rachel could see he spoke the truth. The plants were heavy with blooms, their fragrance stinging the air. It would be even more impressive during the day.

With seeming idleness she said, “He must be very talented. How did you convince him to take a job so far from civilization?”

Caleb halted, and together they watched the sun sink behind the mountains in a spectacular display. “I never saw a sunset like that in San Francisco. I’ve yet to grow tired of it.” Belatedly, he answered her question. “Chad is one of our recruits. Those with particular talents often serve in a slightly different capacity.”

Disappointment rose. She ruthlessly kept it from her voice. “How lucky for you that your recruits are so gifted. Dinner tonight was excellent.”

With a touch on her elbow he guided her to a bench at the side of a path, and they sat. “Yes, Eliza is a jewel. She came to us from the Sons of Freedom. Have you heard of them?” Rachel had. “Their loss was my gain.” His teeth flashed in the growing darkness. “I’ve put on five pounds since she’s been here.”

She smiled at the pun, but her mind was busy. She would have stood a better chance of extracting bits and pieces of information from hired help. From his words, she assumed that everyone on the compound was a part of The Brotherhood. Did that mean that Carpenter was paranoid or just very careful? Either way, her job had just gotten a little more challenging.

She pushed the thought aside and seized the opening he’d offered. “If I’m going to eat like that every night, it won’t be long until I start tipping the scale myself. I’m used to being quite active.”

Her words had the desired effect. “Of course you are. Feel free to use the training facilities any time you wish. They’re stocked with state-of-the-art equipment.”

“I’m not surprised.” She turned to face him more fully. “From what I’ve seen there’s been no expense spared in the complex. You must be quite proud of what you’ve accomplished here.”

“Personal wealth makes a great many worries fade away. I feel strongly about what I’m doing. Your father was also a patriot for the cause, wasn’t he? I remember reading about his death when I was in college. You must have been, what? Twelve?”

“Fourteen,” she murmured, averting her gaze. She had to steel herself for the questions that would follow. She didn’t want thoughts of her father crowding in at a time like this, not when she had the opportunity to build a tenuous bond with the man beside her. But the memory of Hans Grunwald would very likely prove valuable in forging that bond. He had, after all, died for the very convictions Carpenter so fervently believed in.

“I’m sorry.” The gentleness in his voice was as much a shock as his words. “It must have been very difficult for you.”

“He died a hero.” The statement all but stuck in her throat, the words parroted from her mother. She’d never understood how her mother could regard as a hero a man who died carrying out an assassination attempt. Had never comprehended how a life of hatred and violence could earn a man a place as a martyr. Her failure to make that connection had led her straight to SPEAR.

Diligently, she shoved the jumbled pain and guilt back into the dark mental corner where she usually kept them. She had an assignment to do here. And memories of her father merely strengthened her resolve to destroy The Brotherhood.

Did Carpenter’s family feel the same bewilderment and failure at the choices he made? Were they physically sickened when they saw the way prejudice had twisted their son, their brother, into something unrecognizable? She thought they must be. From what he’d mentioned, they didn’t approve of his beliefs. She wondered if they’d experienced the same horrible epiphany she had, when she’d finally realized that beneath her father’s face dwelled a monster.

“I’ve upset you.” The pad of his finger caressed her jaw. It was difficult not to jerk away; the thoughts had left her strangely vulnerable.

She shook her head. “He inspired the same sort of loyalty from his followers that you do from yours, and he was a man who insisted on handling important matters by himself. Much as you did this afternoon after Colonel Sutherland interrupted us.” She watched him carefully. “I was concerned when you insisted on confronting the intruders alone. Was there any trouble?”

He gazed into the distance, his profile etched in the darkness. “No, there was no trouble.”

It was apparent that was all he intended to say on the subject. Rachel was far from content with his answer. “Good. I didn’t hear any gunfire, but then, I didn’t know how far away you were.”

“Most problems offer an array of solutions. Force just happens to be the most final one.”

And although her blood ran cold at his ambiguous answer, Rachel was really no closer to knowing what had transpired that afternoon with the Hispanics.

It came as no surprise to Rachel when she opened her door the next morning and saw the same young man, dressed again in black fatigues, leaning against the opposite wall in the hallway. She gave him a casual smile. “You must be an early riser. I hope you had time for breakfast this morning.”