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dressed.
By the time she'd returned, Dane had coffee made
and a fire going in the den. He sat in one of the large
overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace, sipping
from a large mug while gazing into the fire. He'd put
on a heavy gray sweater that fit his shoulders as
though it had been made for him. Since the color of
the soft yarn exactly matched the color of his eyes,
there was a good chance the sweater had been a gift
that had indeed been knitted especially for him.
Felicia walked in and saw that he had brought the
coffee and another cup from the kitchen. Picking up
the glass carafe, she poured some of the brew into the
cup and sat down in the matching chair in front of the
fire.
"Do you think Adam is alive?" was her first ques-
tion.
As though reluctant to leave the view of the flick-
ering flames, Dane slowly lifted his eyes until his gaze
met hers.
"I hope to God he is. If not, I'm responsible for his
death."
There was so little expression in his voice that for a
moment she missed the import of his words. When
they registered, she almost flinched.
The lines in his face had deepened and for the first
time since she had known him, Dane looked his age.
Felicia waited, knowing there was more, also
knowing that he would tell her only what he chose, no
matter how she begged or threatened. Now was the
time to exert patience.
He almost smiled at the obvious struggle going on
within her, and she resented his knowledge of her.
Outside of Adam, this man knew her better than any-
one. After all, he'd lived with her for years. How
could he not know her moods, her foibles, her
strengths and her weaknesses?
"Go on," she finally said when he leaned over and
poured himself another cup of coffee.
"I've been working with a government covert op-
eration for years ever since I was in the service on
the drug problems that have plagued the United States.
I became more active about five years ago as the eco-
nomic situation across the border became more acute
and drugs seemed to be pouring across the river at an
increased rate." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee
and staring once again at the fire that had taken the
chill off the room.
Without looking back at her, he continued. "Be-
cause of my increased absences away from the ranch I
had to explain to Adam what I was doing and why. I
don't suppose anyone can understand why a person
would be willing to get involved in tracking down drug
smugglers unless he's seen what drug addiction does
to a person. One of my brothers got involved with
them and almost died.
"Although he survived an overdose, Johnny suf-
fered considerable damage. He'll never be the same
again. I made a promise to myself when I stood over
him in that hospital bed that I was going to do every-
thing in my power to stop the people who were bring-
ing this poison into our lives."
Felicia could feel his pain and knew that whatever
else Dane was, he loved his family, and she hurt for
him, beginning to recognize the helpless feeling of
wanting to help a loved one but not knowing how.
"Our group is always understaffed, and when
Adam offered to help I wasn't firm enough in my re-
fusal to have him involved. He understood my feel-
ings. Pointed out it could have been him as much as
Johnny. In the end, he outtalked me." He glanced
back at her. "That was four years ago."
"So you think his disappearance is drug related?"
"There's a strong possibility. The longer we go
without word from him, the less likely are his chances
of being found alive."
Felicia could feel the cold fist of fear tightening in
her chest. It had never completely left her since the
night she'd received Dane's call telling her of Adam's
disappearance.
"Do you know who he was going to see?"
"No. He was following up some leads of his own.
We tended to work independently of each other, which
has worked to our benefit in the past. He had several
contacts down there I knew nothing about. But he'd
given his superior some needed information just be-
fore he went down there, enough to give the authori-
ties a couple of leads to follow. That call tonight was
to let me know the leads so far had turned up noth-
ing."
Felicia stared blindly into the fireplace. Not Adam,
dear God. Please. Not Adam. She could see his
laughing face, his eyes full of mischief, hear his teas-
ing tone. And he was so young. He'd be thirty-two
next month. He'd had a man's responsibility most of
his life for his mother and sister and the ranch. And
for the past fifteen years he'd played both mother and
father to her.
Adam had always taken his responsibilities seri-
ously, so he wouldn't have shirked helping Dane, un-
derstanding why Dane was involved.
"I've got to know," she murmured, her voice barely
audible.
"Believe me, I can understand your feelings. We'll
be the first they notify when anything turns up."
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