Free The Reunion Mission by Beth Cornelison

a defense as to why I was there. I don’t know what LeCroix and Kincaid told the authorities about that night but—”
    “Daniel and Alec were there?”
    Her father frowned. “He didn’t tell you?”
    Nicole rolled her gaze to the ceiling. “Apparently there’s a lot I haven’t been told.”
    She heard her father shift in the chair and exhale heavily. “I’ll make a few calls and see what I can find out about the little girl. Are you sure she’s Colombian? Not from Ecuador or Peru—”
    Nicole lowered her gaze to meet her father’s and shook her head. “Daddy, I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
    His expression softened, and he leaned toward the bed. “I love you, Nicole. You can be sure of that.”
    Tears prickled in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “I would appreciate any help you can offer. I know the authorities will try to take custody of Tia from me, and I can’t let that happen. She’s alone and scared, and she needs me. Until we find her family, I have to protect her.”
    * * *
    The next morning, Daniel sat on the side of his hospital bed and rubbed his injured leg. Even with major painkillers in his system, he hurt like hell. He’d snatched only erratic moments of sleep last night while his conversation with Nicole replayed in his head.
    It might have been pain talking, but not pain from your knee.
    Maybe so, but the physical pain had lowered his guard, allowed emotions he’d kept securely locked away for years to resurface. In light of the current throbbing in his knee and the promise of continued pain for several weeks as he healed, he’d better find a way to jam all those dangerous feelings for Nicole somewhere safe and out of reach. Better yet, he should avoid any further contact with Nicole. His mission was complete. He’d saved her from the Colombian prison camp. The end.
    “Whenever you’re ready,” said the nurse who stood beside his bed, waiting. She handed him a pair of crutches, then reached for his arm to help him to his feet.
    His doctor had left orders that Daniel put some weight on the bad knee and practice walking on the injured leg so that the joint didn’t get stiff and inflexible. Daniel clenched his back teeth and hoisted himself from the bed onto his good leg. The nurse moved in close to steady him, and he waved her away. “I can do it.”
    “Now put some weight on the other leg, and use the crutches to take a step.”
    Daniel did as directed and bit back a scorching curse word when a nearly blinding pain shot from his knee up his leg. His bad leg buckled, and he wobbled on the crutches. Fils de putain! His leg hadn’t hurt this much when he’d been dragging it behind him in the jungle. Of course, he’d had an ample supply of adrenaline coursing through him, blocking his pain at the time.
    He squeezed the hand grips on the crutches harder and sent his nurse a warning scowl when she tried again to steady him. A cold sweat popped out on his brow and upper lip, but he took a cleansing breath and planted the crutches another foot in front of him. Braced. Shifted his weight.
    He let another string of Cajun French curses fly, but he didn’t sway this time. While his nurse gave him trite words of encouragement, he took a couple more steps. A bead of moisture rolled down his temple despite the chill air-conditioning, and he clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. But he was walking.
    Big ef-ing deal. He used to run a five-minute mile with a forty-pound pack on his back. Now he had a nurse praising him for each step as if he were a baby learning to walk. He glared his discontent and frustration at the woman. “Look, when I run a marathon again, compliment me all you want. For now, I could do without the false cheer.”
    The woman’s face reflected a moment of hurt and surprise, and regret for his curtness kicked him in the gut. Before he could apologize, a voice from the door stopped him.
    “Still in a grumpy mood, I see.”
    Daniel mustered all his strength not