Single Mom's Protector - Complete Series

by Nella Tyler

  “During that time, I became affiliated with some highly professional men and women. We became close, and although almost all have left the service, they are still in positions similar to their talents and have connections.

  “I reached out to one of these individuals, a man, for the purpose of locating Scott. You remember the call I got that caused me to come indoors?”

  She nodded.

  “That was him and he was calling me to say that he had traced Scott and knew, in general where he was.”

  “Where?” she cried, gripping Cole’s arm.

  “Believe me when I say that heads are going to roll, but he’s been here, on the estate, all along.”

  “What? Are you serious? How did that happen?”

  “He must have known about my father dying and put two and two together. Maybe it was just his way of keeping tabs on us, but he applied for an open position with the landscaping company that maintains the grounds. They hired him, having no idea of who he really was.”

  “He’s been working here?”

  “I know. I’m furious about it, as well, but there’s nothing I can do to undo it. It was my fault for not being more careful. I should have had everyone screened before I brought you here.”

  “What happened to Dr. Keeler?”

  Cole was silent a moment. “As near as I can piece together, when I got the call and my contact told me that not only was Scott an employee here, but that he was known to have a weapon and was on the grounds somewhere, I panicked.

  “I screamed at you to get down, and Dr. Keeler responded to my terror. He leapt up to grab Carson. He knew Scott would come after Carson before he’d kill you. That would hurt you more.

  “He got in the way of the bullet intended for Carson and it went through him and caught Carson as it exited… Thank God, just a graze. Dr. Keeler saved Carson’s life, Gilda.”

  “Oh, no! No! He was here because this was going to be a safe place for him to live out what time he had left, Cole. He wasn’t supposed to come here to die.”

  “Sweetheart, don’t tear yourself up about it. He was made brave by the fact that he knew he had little time left. I’m not saying he wouldn’t have done the same thing if he’d been healthy, but he was a realist and maybe even looking for a way to finally substantiate his life. You never know.

  “You have him to thank for Carson’s safety. I blew it, and I will pay for that for the rest of my life.”

  “Cole, this wasn’t your fault. It is Scott’s! Where is the bastard? I want to kill him with my own two hands!”

  “A lot of good that’s going to do you, sweetheart. Then you’ll be locked up for life and Carson will only have me, or more likely yet, your mother, since she’s his only blood kin. Is that what you really want for him?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Okay, then let’s stop with that foolishness and accept the gift Dr. Keeler left you: the life of your son.”

  “Where is Scott now?”

  “He ran off into the trees in the uproar, but believe me, we’ve got the area under an inch by inch sweep. There’s no way he’s getting away from us this time. I give you my word.”

  Gilda sighed and wiped her brow. She winced and Cole was instantly on alert. “Have you been checked out?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. Your medic lacked any equipment to do that properly, so all we could do was to press and prod, which all hurt. Where are we now, Cole?”

  He looked around them and lifted a hand in a sweep. “This is what you might think of as a safe bunker. From here, we can monitor all the security systems throughout the estate, but no one can get in at us.

  “We could withstand a short nuclear war in here, sweetheart. Beyond those doors are supplies and communication systems, sleeping and entertainment areas, a fully-equipped kitchen, a small medical room, a workout room, and even a research center. There are hydroponic gardens and lighting-controlled areas to prevent seasonal affective disorder. It’s pretty much a self-contained world, to tell you the truth.”

  “How long are we staying in here? It gives me the willies.”

  “As long as it takes to apprehend Scott. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you entertained and comfortable, but your safety — as well as Carson’s — is paramount.

  “Scott wants to get to him, Gilda. Any man who would kill his own son deserves to die a slow and painful death.”

  She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “He already killed Dr. Keeler, a man who did nothing but help people his entire life.”

  There was a tap at the door and Cole answered it, nodding and then coming to take Gilda by the hand. “We’re going down to the medical room. One of my men has brought in a doctor to have a look at you. After that, you’re going to bed.”

  She was too exhausted to argue and she followed Gunnerson to the exam room where the doctor waited.

  “You seem to be just fine,” the doctor pronounced her. “I believe you’ve strained some of the healing muscle and may have some inflammation from the trauma of hitting the ground, but with some pain relievers and some rest, you should be back to your normal healing process in a couple of days.” He gave her some mild pain medication and sent her to lie down.

  Gilda insisted that Carson take a nap as well and as the two of them disappeared, Cole continued to direct the search activities to isolate and capture Scott. He had called in the help of the state police, along with their canine unit.

  The day dragged on with no sightings of the man whom Cole wanted off the face of the planet. His frustration level was at an all-time high; his concern for Gilda’s welfare was driving his anger — not to mention the death of the good Dr. Keeler. He paced the confined quarters and finally, had enough.

  “Unlock the door and lock it behind me,” he ordered the guard. “Monitor me.”

  Cole knew he was the most motivated man on the planet when it came to finding Scott Sawyer.

  Chapter 42

  Cole emerged from the house in a different state of mind than anyone who knew him had seen, except those who had been with him during combat. Gilda would not have recognized the cold, deliberate man who, attired in protective gear and armed with multiple weapons, went in search of his prey.

  * * *

  Scott had grown up in poverty. He and his two brothers had raised themselves; their father had left the family when they were in elementary school and their mother made her peace with bottles of gin.

  The boys had run wild, and everyone in town knew to keep their mouths shut or they would become the next victims of the unruly trio. Arson, theft, property destruction: nothing was out of the question when it came to the Sawyer boys. Scott was the eldest, the mastermind, and the one who had the least to lose. He also suffered from paranoid schizophrenia.

  He knew how to hide, how to plan and strategize — he had help. The voices told him what he’d need to accomplish his mission. They were friends, caring about his objective and his success of reaching it without injury or being apprehended. They calmed him when he got overly excited and watched over him when he couldn’t concentrate.

  He had followed Cole Stephens’ life, his and Gilda’s. Cole’s father was prominent and filthy rich, and that made him visible. Cole had stepped into his father’s shoes after the man died. It was a simple map to follow, and Scott was very good at tracking.

  He had some help. While she had been his short-term landlady, Mrs. Paula Crutcher had been an easy target. All she had in her life was her apartment house; it was simple to threaten to burn it down. He knew how to do that — very well. He’d had lots of practice.

  So, he had proposed that she just pass along whatever she knew about Gilda; after all, she was alone and it would be a good idea if some man who cared about her kept tabs on her. Scott was a master at making the unconscionable seem ideal.

  At this moment, he was surveying his prey from a subterranean pit he’d methodically dug over the past few weeks. It lay in a cluster of bushes beneath a heavy stand of trees
and had an excellent view of the house. His binoculars provided an up-close view, and he’d stocked enough supplies that he could survive for weeks.

  His cover as one of the landscaping crew had allowed him to watch what was going on at the house while staying distant enough that no one would recognize him.

  He’d been watching as Cole ran from the house. He’d aligned the sight and the sniper rifle proved true as he aimed for his son.

  He hadn’t counted on the interference from the old man, but the son of a bitch paid for it — with blood. The kid had survived, but he’d gotten his point across. The whole damned bunch of cowards had run inside.

  Now Scott lay on his stomach, leaves and branches obscuring his form to blend in with the irregular terrain. His rifle was in his hand, the sight fixed on the large man striding toward him.

  “Damned fool,” he muttered to himself aloud. “Comes right out in the open.”

  He heard the click behind himself and felt the sting as his fingers were blown off his trigger hand. “I guess there’s more than one fool on the property,” Cole said coolly, his rifle pointed directly at Scott’s head.

  “What the fuck?” He rolled over, holding his bleeding hand.

  “A decoy? Feel stupid, Scott? You’ve just begun your journey. You’re done.”

  “You son of a bitch!” screamed Scott, trying to launch himself at Cole, who cleanly side-stepped the bleeding man. Scott was instantly surrounded by four men in black who stomped him flat onto the ground and searched for weapons. He was cuffed and pulled to his feet, marched to a side road, and transported to the local jail.

  Cole’s men went through the hiding place Scott had prepared and found an enormous amount of ammunition, food supplies, and even some grenades. “He’s been busy,” one of them commented, and Cole nodded.

  He bent over and picked up the cell phone he’d spotted. He flipped through the contact list and emails, his eyebrows shooting up as he handed the device to the deputy waiting nearby.

  He strode back to the house, barking out orders as he walked.

  Gilda and Carson watched on a security camera from their vantage point within the safe bunker as Scott was led away. Gilda clutched her heart in relief, realizing that her nightmare was about to end.

  She heard communication buzzing behind her and there was a sudden scuffle as one of the men disappeared down the opposite hallway and then returned, with Mrs. Crutcher in handcuffs and being propelled forward.

  “What are you doing?” Gilda cried out as the older woman burst into tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Gilda. He told me he would burn my house down. I had no choice,” Mrs. Crutcher pleaded as the doors of the shelter were opened and she was taken outside.

  Gilda was completely baffled by what was going on and it wasn’t until Cole joined her and took her aside that she understood.

  “Mrs. Crutcher was being blackmailed to by Scott to report on your whereabouts and activity. She’s pretty much been a spy, to be blunt,” he told her.

  “That means she’s partially responsible for Dr. Keeler’s death!” Gilda said in horror.

  He nodded. “Pretty much, yes, that’s right.”

  “My God,” she breathed in horror.

  “Exactly.”

  “Now what happens?”

  “I’m waiting for a call and will let you know. But, for now, I’d say the whole miserable mess is over and you can begin a normal life for the first time ever.”

  “I love you so much, Cole. Thank you for giving me my life back — me and Carson, both.”

  “You’re part of my life, sweetheart, so we’re all in this together.”

  Chapter 43

  Gilda stood beside the open grave of Dr. Keeler, tears dampening her cheeks and falling down upon the casket. He had no family; she had come closer to being family than anyone in his life.

  Cole stood mute and grimly frowning next to her. Gilda had had all the sorrow she could take.

  She bent and picked up a handful of soil, dropping it upon his casket. “I’ll miss you,” she sobbed and turned to bury her face in Cole’s chest.

  The funeral was heavily attended by nearly a hundred New York City police officers. Each had, in some small way, come into contact with Dr. Keeler over the years and had come to pay their respects. A gun salute closed the service and everyone filed away as the workers began to fill in the grave.

  Gilda wasn’t up to any sort of wake, but went straight home. She found Carson in his bedroom, playing with toys. She kicked off her shoes, peeled off her stockings, and sank to the carpet beside him. He came to her, seeing her upset.

  She clutched him, kissing the top of his head. He had been through so much, now even losing the only true grandmother figure in his life: Mrs. Crutcher.

  Scott, coward that he was, had confessed to everything. The authorities found Mary and Beverly cowering in a motel in the city. They were both arrested and sent back to their hometown to be formally charged and stand trial.

  Cole watched Gilda blossom. He had feared she would shut down again, but now that the ordeal was over and she knew there was no one out there who intended her or Carson harm, she had relaxed and became herself again.

  Carson started school at a nearby boys’ school, but instead of staying there at night, he came home. Gilda and Cole had agreed that he’d been through too much trauma and separation already and needed the stability of coming home to the both of them each day.

  “I want to adopt him,” Cole announced one day.

  “I think that would be wonderful,” Gilda agreed, and he instructed his attorney to begin petitioning the court.

  Cole settled into a routine that revolved around his business. He met daily with Gregory Clintock. Clintock turned out to be every bit as nefarious as Cole had anticipated, which worked to Cole’s benefit as Clintock’s interests and his own were in tandem.

  Gilda spent her days strolling the grounds and pitching in with the gardeners to putter in the dirt. She loved flowers and had missed having them since her move to the big city. She requested they dig a large round flowerbed for her, and she filled it with colorful rings of blossoms. The gardening allowed her to live in the moment and in the future — putting the past behind where it belonged.

  Carson adapted well to school, taking to the idea of having more children around and activities to keep himself busy. He was very bright and loved learning his alphabet and how to begin writing the letters.

  It was a late summer evening when they decided to take a picnic down to the bank of the lake bordering the back of the estate property.

  Cole packed the back of an ATV and they drove slowly along the tree line toward the water. He pointed out small landmarks where he had played as a boy. He drove toward the stables so they could watch as the horses exercised in the yard.

  Carson loved the horses, and Cole hiked him up onto his shoulders to keep him out of the mud as they entered the barn. It was a beautiful building, paneled with oak and contained brass fittings, and even a graded wading pool where the horses were exercised. Gilda clung to Cole’s arm, excited as Carson.

  “I love to come down here,” she said, smiling.

  “You missed living in the country, didn’t you?” Cole asked her.

  Gilda nodded. “This isn’t exactly like where I grew up, you know. I don’t want to go back home, but I would like to live in the south again. I’m not crazy about the winters here, if I have to be honest.”

  They strolled through the barn until they came to a stall at the end of the row. Cole turned inward and pointed at the pony busily munching hay inside the stall. He handed Carson an apple. “You want to feed your pony?” he asked smoothly.

  “Feed my pony?” he responded in an amazed voice.

  “I thought you wanted your own pony?” Cole continued.

  “Really? Really, Cole? Do you mean it?”

  “I sure do, after all, you’re my son now,” he answered.

  Both Carson and Gilda turned to look at him in am
azement.

  “Really?” they asked in unison.

  “I was planning to tell you at the picnic, but yes, my attorney got the paperwork through the system more quickly than we’d anticipated and as of this afternoon, you, Mr. Carson, are now Carson Stephens.”

  “Wow!” Carson squealed, hugging Cole. “Can I call you Daddy?”

  “You sure can,” Cole patted his back.

  “I think that would be a perfect idea,” Gilda chimed in.

  Both Cole and Carson turned to look at her.

  “After all,” she continued, “you’re going to be a daddy to the new baby, too!”

  “Sweetheart, are you saying you’re pregnant?” Cole asked in an excited voice.

  She nodded. “Is that okay?” she asked, although she knew nothing would make him happier.

  “I think I can take it, if you can,” he winked and pulled her into an embrace that included the three of them.

  Cole put Carson on the pony and walked him around in the yard outside the barn, Carson holding on for dear life.

  “I think he needs some riding lessons,” Cole commented and Gilda agreed. “How about you, Gilda? Would you like to take lessons and learn to ride?”

  “You know, I think I’d love that!” she exclaimed. “But I want to wait until after the baby. I can’t take any chances that something would happen again,” she worried aloud.

  “Good idea,” he agreed, pulling Carson off the pony and packing them all in the ATV to finish their picnic plans.

  Carson was playing at the water’s edge, tossing in stones and digging around with sticks.

  “You’ve made me very, very happy, Cole. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be married to or have as the daddy of my children.”

  “That’s high praise, coming from you, sweetheart. Have you thought about what you want from the future?”

  “Huh, strange that you should ask. You really want the truth?”

  “Of course, that’s why I asked.”

  Gilda picked up a twig, broke it in half and tossed it across the grass. “If I had to be absolutely honest, I would say that I’d like to move south. I know this is your childhood home and all, but Cole…these aren’t my people. Carson doesn’t really fit in, not really.”