“Everyone, including me.” She was just a part of the background here. He knew everything about her, all of her secrets. She’d held nothing back, and she was one more person who now had to be let in because he had no other choice.
“I know you’re not going to believe me, but I was going to tell you. I wanted to wait until the wedding, and then Hiram died.” He frowned. “I would like to point out that I did not kill Hi.”
She rolled her eyes. She hadn’t even thought of that. But now she could ask the question she did want an answer to. “Did you kill the man who shot Jesse? He didn’t trip, did he?”
He hesitated. “Yes. I mean I killed him. No, he didn’t trip. We got into a fight, too, and again, he had a gun.”
“Well, why didn’t you pop out to the shop and grab one of yours?”
His eyes closed briefly and when he opened them she could see the guilt there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would find them. When you hear my story, you’ll understand why it was necessary to keep them. I’ll be honest, over the years I’ve practically forgotten I have them.”
This wasn’t about Henry being worried over her. He was worried for himself. “So you’ve had them since we got married?”
He nodded. “I moved them around from time to time, and then I built the safe into the wall of the shop. You weren’t supposed to find them. They were there in case trouble found me. Like I said, I never carry anymore. Those guns have done nothing but gather dust for years.”
This was all some kind of surreal dream. Or a joke. It had to be. Except Henry looked so grim.
Henry looked like he had when she’d first met him. Grim. A little dangerous. Deeply sad.
She quashed the sympathy that rose. It was always there, but now she couldn’t afford it. Now, if she let that part of herself take over, she would be weak and vulnerable, and apparently she’d already been far too vulnerable to this man. He was her husband and he’d lied. Not about something small like whether or not she looked good in a pair of jeans. He’d lied about the foundations of their life together. He’d lied and turned her into a fool.
She was carrying his baby.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to move forward. “All right. What do you need to tell me?”
A bit of hope lit his expression. “I should have told you a long time before, but I was afraid. Nell, before I came to Bliss I wasn’t a history professor. That was my cover. The truth of the matter was I worked for the Central Intelligence Agency.”
She stared at him. He couldn’t come up with something more interesting? “Sure you did. I’m supposed to believe that you worked for the CIA?” She was back to pacing. “The history professor thing was far more believable.”
“I wouldn’t have been effective if I looked like James Bond, would I? Most of us are normal-looking people. They teach us to blend in, to be chameleons. I was recruited straight out of the military because I was highly intelligent, showed a moral flexibility, and I had no family. They like that. They like having all of an operative’s loyalty belong to the Agency.”
“You were in the military?” Her husband? Her antiauthoritarian husband had been a soldier? And a good one, if what he was saying were true. He’d been so good that the CIA had recruited him. Moral flexibility? Her Henry was known for his deeply held beliefs.
How could he be standing here telling her these things? The world she’d gone to sleep in had turned over, and she was in a different place, a colder place.
“I was in the Army. I joined up when I aged out of foster care. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I lied about getting a scholarship. I never applied for one. I knew I wouldn’t get to college,” Henry said. “I got my degree after. I got it with the help of the man who recruited me. I’ll be honest, I don’t know where I would have been without Franklin Grant.”
She felt tears pulse. “I don’t believe you.” Her mind sought any other explanation. She couldn’t have been this foolish. He’d left for six months. By the time he’d come back, she’d started publishing. “You found out about my writing career. That’s why you came back. You knew I would start making money.”
He stood, a grave look on his face. “No, my love. I came back because I figured a way out. I came back because I couldn’t go back to being that cold spymaster I’d become. I came back for you and only you. I didn’t know you’d gotten published until our wedding night. I was perfectly happy to find a job. I’d already talked to Stella about potentially learning to cook so I could take some shifts for Hal. You asked me to stay with you and be your assistant and researcher.”
She’d wanted him close, and it seemed silly for him to sell things at the Trading Post or wait tables at Stella’s. There wasn’t anything wrong with those jobs, but if they had enough money, she didn’t see why he couldn’t use his skills in a different way. “So you were never a history professor.”
“I’ve always been fascinated by it. You know me. I read a lot of books about history. Both fiction and nonfiction.”
“I know you? I thought this whole conversation was about how I don’t know you.” She could feel her panic starting to rise. She’d had these moments
