A Hero for All Seasons Read online

  “Why don’t you get some rest?”

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  MARIE FERRARELLA

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Copyright

  “Why don’t you get some rest?”

  It was against Savannah’s nature to leave things undone. She desperately needed order of some sort. “The dishes—”

  “I’ll do them.”

  Whether Sam Walters had intended this or not, she didn’t feel quite as alone anymore. She felt...things perhaps she shouldn’t. Especially given the circumstances. But there was something about the gentleness beneath his brash exterior, the kindness he extended when she least expected it, that broke through all her barriers, filling the heart she’d been so sure was now just an empty shell.

  The man did dishes, for heaven’s sake. And there was something in his smile. Something reassuring and...

  “You’re a rare man, Sam Walters.” In more ways than one, she added silently.

  Dear Reader,

  I’m always getting letters telling me how much you love miniseries, and this month we’ve got three great ones for you. Linda Turner starts the new family-based miniseries, THOSE MARRYING McBRIDES! with The Lady’s Man. The McBrides have always been unlucky in love—until now. And it’s wedding-wary Zeke who’s the first to take the plunge. Mane Ferrarella also starts a new miniseries this month. CHILDFINDERS, INC is a detective agency specializing in finding missing kids, and they’ve never failed to find one yet. So is it any wonder desperate Savannah King turns to investigator Sam Walters when her daughter disappears in A Hero for All Seasons? And don’t miss Rodeo Dad, the continuation of Carla Cassidy’s wonderful Western miniseries, MUSTANG, MONTANA

  Of course, that’s not all we’ve got in store Paula Detmer Riggs is famous for her ability to explore emotion and create characters who live in readers’ minds long after the last page is turned. In Once More a Family she creates a reunion romance to haunt you. Sharon Mignerey is back with her second book, His Tender Touch, a suspenseful story of a woman on the run and her unwilling protector—who soon turns into her willing lover Finally, welcome new author Candace Irvin, who debuts with a military romance called For His Eyes Only. I think you’ll be as glad as we are that Candace has joined the Intimate Moments ranks

  Enjoy—and come back next month, when we once again bring you the best and most exciting romantic reading around.

  Yours,

  Leslie J. Wainger

  Executive Senior Editor

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U S 3010 Walden Ave., PO Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: PO Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  MARIE FERRARELLA

  A HERO FOR ALL SEASONS

  To

  Leslie Wainger,

  For generosity

  above

  and beyond

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  Silhouette Intirnate Moments

  *Holding Out for a Hero #496

  *Heroes Grear and Small #501

  *Christmas Every Day #538

  Callaghan’s Way #601

  *Caullin’s Guardian Angel #661

  ‡Happy New Year—Baby’ #686

  The Amnesiac Bride #787

  Serena McKee’s Back in Town #808

  A Husband Waiting 10 Happen #842

  Angus’s Lost Lady #353

  This Heart for Hire #919

  ††A Hero for all Seasons #932

  Silhouette Romance

  The Gift #588

  Five-Alarm Affair #613

  Heart to Heart #632

  Mother for Hire #686

  Borrowed Baby #730

  Her Special Angel #744

  The Undoing of Justin Starbuck #766

  Man Trouble #815

  The Taming of the Teen #839

  Father Goose #869

  Babies on His Mind #920

  The Right Man #932

  In Her Own Backyard #947

  Her Man Friday #959

  Aunt Connie’s Wedding #984

  †Caution Baby Ahead #1007

  †Mother on the Wing #1026

  †Baby Times Two #1037

  Father in the Making #1078

  The Women in Joe Sullivan’s Life #1096

  ‡Do You Take This Child’ #1145

  The Man Who Would Be Daddy #1175

  Your Baby or Mine? #1216

  **The Baby Came C O D #1264

  Suddenly Mornage’ #1312

  ‡‡One Plus One Makes Marriage #1328

  ‡‡Never Too Late for Love #1351

  Silhouette Desire

  ‡Husband. Optional #988

  Silhouette Special Edition

  It Happened One Night #597

  A Girl’s Best Friend #652

  Blessing in Disguise #675

  Someone To Talk To #703

  World’s Greatest Dad #767

  Family Matters #832

  She Got Her Man #843

  Baby in the Middle #892

  Husband. Some Assembly Required #931

  Brooding Angel #963

  ‡Baby’s First Christmas #997

  Christmas Bride #1069

  Wanted. Husband, Will Tram #1132

  Wife in the Mail #1217

  Silhouette Yours Truly

  ‡The 7lb. 2oz. Valentine

  Let’s Get Mommy Married

  Tract on the Spot

  Mommy and the Policeman Next Door

  **Desperately Seeking Twin

  The Offer She Couldn’t Refuse

  ΔFiono and the Sexy Stranger

  ΔCowboys Are for Loving

  Δ Will and the Headstrong Female

  ΔThe Law and Ginny Marlow

  ΔA March for Morgan

  Silhouette Books

  In The Family Way

  Silhouette Christmas Stones 1992

  “The Night Santa Claus Returned”

  Fortune’s Children

  Forgotten Honeymoon

  World’s Most Eligible Bachclors

  Detective Dad

  †Baby’s Choice

  †The Baby of the Month Club

  **Two Halves of a Whole

  *Those Sinclairs

  ΔThe Cutlers of the Shady Lady Ranch

  ‡‡Like Mother. Lake Daughter

  ††ChildFinders, Inc

  Books by Marie Ferrarella writing as Marie Nicole

  Silhouette Desire

  Tried And True #112

  Buyer Beware #142

  Through Laughter And Tears #116

  Grand Theft Heart #182

  A Woman of Integrity #197

  Country Blue #224

  Last Year’s Hunk #274

  Foxy Lady #315

  Chocolate Dreams #346

  No Laughing Matter #382

  Silhouette Romance

  Man Undercover #373

  Please Stand By #394

  Mine by Write #411

  Getting Physical #440

  MARIE FERRARELLA

  lives in Southern California. She describes herself as the tired mother of two overenergetic children and the contented wife of one wonderful man. This RITA Award-winning author is thrilled to be following her dream of writing full-time.

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nbsp; Chapter 1

  He knew her.

  The minute Sam Walters looked up to see who Alex, the agency’s secretary, had brought into his office, he knew her. Knew the tall, vivid-looking blonde who had come seeking his help—even before he actually recognized her and put a name to her face.

  With the investigative agency almost a year, Sam nonetheless had more than a few years of law enforcement experience to fall back on. He was well acquainted with the aura of just barely controlled panic that he saw around the woman’s mouth, with the edgy nervousness in her gait that was just a hair away from being visible and overpowering. And with the fear that was eating away at her and vying for possession of her soul.

  He’d seen it all before, in every shade, every size. Victims who were struggling not to be.

  Just the way Savannah King was.

  He absorbed details as quickly, as unconsciously, as he breathed. It came that naturally to him.

  She was a stunning woman by anyone’s reckoning, but Sam still didn’t miss the fact that Savannah King was pale beneath her suntan, pale and shaken.

  But it was her eyes that caught his attention. There was something there, something within the crystalblue eyes that spoke to Sam. That told him that she wasn’t going to break down here in his sunny corner office, dissolving in a flood of tears the way so many others who’d come to ChildFinders, Inc. had done. Those people had recited their stories in the halting bits and hurried pieces that reflected the shards of their once orderly lives.

  She had guts, he thought. He’d bet on it. It made his job easier.

  On his feet now to greet her, Sam rounded the desk that always seemed to be in an eternal state of clutter.

  “Hello,” he said warmly, his hand out. Behind them Alex withdrew unobtrusively.

  After a beat, the willowy blonde extended her hand to him. It felt icy against his flesh, even though it was the middle of August. That didn’t surprise him.

  Savannah pressed her lips together before allowing herself to utter a single word. This man before her—this tall, rugged-looking man with the quirky smile on his lips and the shock of dark blond hair dipping down just above his eyes and rubbing against the collar of his blue shirt—was her last hope.

  Last hope.

  The words felt as if they were digging into her chest. Branding her. She drew a long breath to dislodge the talons.

  “I’m—”

  Sam wrapped his fingers around her hand, a mute promise in the strong gesture. She might not fall to pieces here, he guessed, but she was close. Damn close.

  “Savannah King,” he completed for her.

  Releasing her hand, he softly closed the door behind her and locked out the extraneous noise. Except for the soft whoosh of the air-conditioning system, the office became incredibly quiet.

  “Yes, I know.” For a split second, Sam studied her face. She looked just as classy in person as she had on the broadcast yesterday, and only a shade less composed. “I saw you on TV last night.”

  The TV. Her father had pulled strings and called in favors to make sure that the story wasn’t just lost in the waves of sound bytes that crossed the air every night. An influential man, Perry King had gotten her prime air time on every news channel Southern California carried. She’d had less than three minutes to make her plea. To turn a stone heart into something human.

  By eight this morning, she’d known that she hadn’t succeeded.

  Savannah nodded, slowly taking in a measured breath and then letting it out again. Everything seemed like such an effort now: putting one foot in front of the other, trying to think, keeping herself collected. She felt like a mouse, trapped in an overwhelmingly huge maze, desperately searching for the right door. Not to get out—but to find what had been so brutally snatched away from her.

  To find her child.

  Despite all the help coming her way, Savannah had never felt so completely alone in her life. Lost and alone.

  She tried to smile. Her mouth barely curved. “Hopefully, you weren’t the only one who saw me.”

  Sam knew exactly what she was saying. The three-minute spot, carried on all the local networks at five and then again at eleven, had been directed at the person who had taken her four-year-old daughter, Aimee, from her. He’d watched the first segment, wedged into the news between a human interest story and a story about a narrowly avoided midair collision—immediately alerted because this was what he did: he looked for missing children.

  No, Sam amended silently, he found missing children. That was the difference. It was what they all did at the agency. ChildFinders, Inc.’s unequaled track record was their personal contribution to the world. His, and Megan’s and Cade’s. Cade Townsend was the heart of it. Without Cade, there would have been no contribution. No agency.

  Sam pulled out the chair that stood in front of his desk, the indication clear. Savannah made no move toward it.

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  He noticed that she looked at the chair as if she hadn’t noticed it before. He understood that, too. Only things that had some connection to her daughter’s disappearance were probably filtering in. The rest existed somewhere just outside the perimeter, unnoted, unimportant.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  The words came out in a whisper. Savannah felt drained and just this side of hopeless, although she was struggling not to give in to the feeling. She couldn’t. Defeat meant losing Aimee. She was ready to die before she allowed that to happen

  But it was an effort not to collapse into the chair. An effort not to give in to the darkness that was hovering around the edges of her world these last five days. The sensation was appallingly new to her. Savannah wasn’t the type to collapse; she was the type to forge ahead, no matter what. This was the greatest test she’d ever faced, a thousand times worse than the heartbreak she’d endured before.

  Savannah tried to hang on to her spirit, her feeling that Aimee would be found, with fingers that were growing increasingly tired, increasingly lax.

  Maybe it was superstitious—absurd even—but she had this terribly uneasy feeling that if she let go, she’d never be able to find Aimee. Somehow, some way, she had to find her.

  Which was what had brought her here to ChildFinders, Inc. An agency begun by a man who’d had his own son snatched out of his life.

  Funny how things you read in passing turn out to be the very things you wind up bartering your soul on. She remembered reading about Cade Townsend three months ago—reading about him and feeling sorry for what he had to be going through.

  And now she knew how he felt.

  The sad irony of it was that Darin Townsend remained the only missing child ChildFinders had not been able to recover.

  Savannah felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach

  Oh please, let them find Aimee. Let her be safe. I’ll do anything, anything—just let her be safe.

  Savannah turned to watch Sam as he came around to stand before her. He moved with a confidence that she found encouraging. No bravado, just confidence. And there was sympathy in his eyes. Not pity—sympathy. She couldn’t have handled pity.

  “I’m Sam Walters,” he told her, realizing that the introduction had been interrupted. “And I’m familiar with your story.”

  His tone was soft, gentle. She’d struck him last night as an intelligent, well-educated woman. To talk down to her would be an insult, but he knew the value of kindness and patience, even though he did without them as a rule in his personal life. He didn’t need them. Other people did. Especially victims.

  Sam took a micro-tape recorder from his drawer and placed it on his desk. Cade’s rule. Everything at the initial session was recorded. It saved time and avoided discrepancies.

  “But just for the record—” he moved the machine closer to her “—why don’t you tell me what happened in your own words?”

  The slight click as he turned on the tape recorder on his desk echoed in her brain. Savannah drew herself together, to attempt to stay just a
head of the words she was going to recite. Words that had sharp points on every letter, every syllable. Words that told how her life had gone from being wonderful to abysmal in the space of a heartbeat.

  An elbow on each arm of the chair, unconsciously seeking support, Savannah knotted her hands together. The tension she was experiencing had breadth and depth. Instinctively, Sam laid his hand on top of hers, just for a moment, the slight pressure conveying to her what words couldn’t.

  A covenant.

  She looked at him, their eyes meeting in a frozen instant in time. He couldn’t read anything there—not gratitude, not anger. It was the gate to a fortress that was sealed.

  Drawing back his hand, Sam leaned a hip against his desk, waiting. She’d begin when she was ready. There was no sense rushing her.

  Savannah took a deep breath. It didn’t help. Nothing helped. Her lungs ached from the tears she refused to shed.

  Tears were for mourning, and she wouldn’t mourn. Aimee wasn’t dead, she was alive. Her daughter was out there somewhere, and they were going to find her. No matter what it took.

  Her lips felt dry as she pushed out the words that she’d already said so many times before. With effort, Savannah tried to keep the story fresh, for Walters’s benefit. He had to see, to hear, something the others had not.

  He had to.

  Every word cost her.

  “I was shopping with Aimee—”

  “When?” he cut in. Despite the tape recorder, he was already making notes in his notebook. Writing it all down helped him remember. Helped him sort.

  She looked at him as if he hadn’t been paying attention, then realized that she hadn’t mentioned the day.

  “Thursday. Last Thursday.” A hundred years ago. “I’d taken the day off from my work because I’d promised Aimee an outing.” Why hadn’t she broken it? There’d been so many other promises she’d been forced to break or temporarily bend—why couldn’t this have been one of them? Aimee would still be with her if she had. “We were in Lenard’s—I had stopped to get a new dress.” She paused, upbraiding herself. There’d been no real need for a new dress. It had been purely a whim on her part. One she was paying dearly for. “I told Aimee if she behaved, we’d go to the toy store next. She loves stuffed animals.”