by Liz Shoaf
It sounded as if she were trying to convince herself, so Ned kept his mouth shut and went about preparing for a night in the swamp. He gathered the largest tree limbs littering the ground and formed them in a circle.
Mary Grace started chattering softly and Ned allowed the soothing cadence of her voice to wash over him. For some unknown reason, her incessant speech was having the oddest effect on him. Instead of getting on his nerves like it had at his cabin, her voice reached a place deep inside him. A place he had closed off long ago, even from his family.
“Ned.” She kept her voice at a whisper. “Did you know we only have access to the Okefenokee Swamp today because in the 1800s loggers tried to drain the swamp so they could cut the huge cypress trees?” She chuckled and his heart warmed. “It didn’t work, but they did create eleven and a half miles of canals before they were stopped. The canals have been expanded to one hundred and twenty miles.”
He took note of the slight tremor in her voice and his respect for her courage slid straight to his heart and sidled up against the warmth he’d received earlier.
She stopped talking, propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What, exactly, are you doing?”
He left a small opening at the front of his hastily built fortress and motioned her forward. “This is to keep the gators at bay, at least long enough for us to protect ourselves if they breach the walls. A raised platform would have been better, but this is all we have available.”
A myriad of emotions crossed her face and he could almost read her thoughts, she was so transparent. He knew the second she figured it out. Her nose scrunched up and she marched straight up to him. TB popped out of her pouch but ducked back in quickly when she caught sight of Mary Grace’s angry expression.
“You lied to me,” she whispered fiercely. “You do know how to navigate a swamp.”
He grudgingly gave her points for standing up to him, but she wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be. She had secretly slipped something into her jacket pocket when they were at the shack, and she had yet to share what it was with him.
“You’re right, I’ve fought in much worse swamps than this, but my intent was not to deceive. It was more in jest.” He gazed deeply into her eyes, his heart pleading with her to be honest with him. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to be able to trust her.
Casually, he asked, “Have you ever lied by omission, Mary Grace? Have you been completely honest with me?” He held his breath as he waited to see if she would come clean with him.
* * *
Mary Grace’s heart began to beat triple time. Had Ned seen her slip Bobby’s letter into her pocket? No, it was impossible. He’d had his back to her in the shack, reading the letter Bobby left on the table. She gazed into Ned’s contemplative eyes. He looked as if he were waiting for her to make a momentous decision and a quick jab punched her gut. This felt like one of those odd turning points in one’s life. A moment that could never be taken back or replayed over.
She found herself wanting to slip her hand into her pocket and share the letter with Ned. She believed with all her heart in Bobby’s innocence, but what if Bobby had written something private that might appear incriminating to Ned? Ned had promised to bring the full force of the law down on Bobby if he proved his guilt. She couldn’t take that chance. She wanted to read the letter so badly, she was burning with curiosity, but she’d have to wait until she had some privacy.
“I appreciate your little joke, but it’s time to stop playing games. Now that Bobby has named one of the players in this mess, we have to plan our next move so we’ll be ready when we leave the swamp.”
She looked away and swallowed hard when something akin to regret and disappointment filled his eyes. Realization dawned like a light butterfly flittering around her heart that she really did care what this few-worded mountain man thought of her. He was slowly penetrating past the heartache of her dysfunctional youth and failed relationships. Almost of its own accord, her hand slowly moved toward her pocket, then fell away.
He gazed at her for a long tense moment, then gestured toward their makeshift fortress. “Let’s settle in and we’ll make our plans for tomorrow.”
Mary Grace scuttled into their small fortress and lay down on the pile of leaves Ned had gathered. Sliding her backpack to the ground, she lay on her back, lifted Tinker Bell from her pouch and pulled a doggy snack from a zippered side compartment. Her dog accepted the treat with the delicacy of a true lady. Krieger bounded inside their temporary home and sat at her feet, a mournful look in his eyes as he gazed adoringly at Tinker Bell. Mary Grace sighed wistfully, half wishing Ned would look at her like that. It wasn’t his looks that made her wish for the impossible—although the clean-shaven mountain man was much too handsome for his own good—it was the way he had treated her grandmother. With respect and reverence for her years of wisdom. Pulling out another snack, she offered it to Krieger and was surprised when the dog didn’t take the food.
Ned stepped through the opening and gave a curt command. “Okay.”
Much to Mary Grace’s amazement, the dog gently took the treat from her hand and lay down, eating it slowly, as if the dog biscuit would have to last him a long time.
Mary Grace gave Ned a questioning glance and he shrugged.
“In the past, we’ve been in situations when we had to go without for days at a time. He’s learned to savor it when it’s easily won. Most of the time he has to work for it.”
Ned got comfortable on the bed of leaves and Mary Grace did the same. She turned her head and stared into the heavens, thinking about what he had said.
“Ned, you have as many layers as a good Southern woman.”
“Excuse me?” His startled statement made her smile.
“Just what I said. You’re a man of many layers and you have a trunk full of secrets. Southern women are like that. We have our own language and codes.”
He snorted and Mary Grace smiled wider, then went digging. “So, do you have any siblings besides your sister?” He stayed quiet so long she didn’t think he was going to answer.
He kept his voice in a low whisper. “I have a brother and a sister.”
“Will you see them at Christmas? It’s only a week away, you know.”
She held her breath, waiting to see how much he would reveal. He stayed so still she turned her head to look at him, but it was so dark she couldn’t make out his expression.
“I haven’t seen my brother in a while. It might be time to go back home.”
Mary Grace heard a world of weariness in his voice and she wondered if he was close to his siblings. She knew he loved his niece, but that might not extend to other family members.
Dead leaves rustled and crackled as he shifted position. “Go to sleep. We’ll check on your grandmother in the morning, get something to eat, then head to Washington.”
So much for sharing personal information. Mary Grace stared into the inky darkness and pondered the future. Was Bobby safe? Was Gram okay? Would she and Ned make it out of the swamp alive? She closed her eyes and prayed that everyone she loved would be safe and they would all be together for Christmas.
“Don’t worry, go to sleep. I’ll keep watch for both human and animal predators. Your thoughts are almost as loud as when you’re talking.”
His disgruntled words had her smiling again. “Don’t worry, Mountain Man, I’ll say a prayer for you, too.”
They quit whispering and the night creatures of the swamp were a comfort in one sense, due to growing up in Georgia, but she wouldn’t have allowed herself to drift off if Ned hadn’t been there. She knew he’d protect her, and in her sleepy haze, she realized she trusted him to watch over her. Tinker Bell snuggled against her chest and Mary Grace curled onto her side, almost asleep when Krieger, who was lying across the entrance of their mini-walled shelter, released a low, vicious growl.
TWELVE
Ned winced when Mary Grace sat upright and whispered loudly enough to draw anyone hunting them to their location. “What is it? Is something out there? Ned! Do you hear me?”
It was so dark beneath all the cypress trees loaded with hanging moss, he could barely see her pale face. Instead of answering, he reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear, “It’s probably a wild animal. I’ll check the perimeter. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
But it wasn’t an animal. Krieger had been trained and the growl he released portended trouble, of the human kind. Ned admired her quick assessment of the situation when she grabbed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it tight, lowering her voice even more.
“We can’t stay here. You would have left the swamp earlier, but I know you were worried about my safety, so you chose to spend the night. I don’t know if the person who blew up the shack and shot at us has found us, but we’re sitting ducks. It’s been a long time, but I know this swamp pretty well. I can get us out of here. I know several shortcuts to Gram’s, but we’ll have to go slowly and watch out for sinkholes.” Ned could barely make out her anticipating grin. “If whoever is after us gets caught in the swamp mud, they’ll have to remove their boots to get out and that’ll slow them down.”
Ned assessed her hasty plan. A swamp was dangerous at night, which is why he had decided to stay put with a woman and fluff dog in tow, but a swamp in Georgia was far different than some of the places he had fought while in the military.
“Can’t you at least trust me on this?” she hissed quietly.
The annoyance in her voice made him smile—something he’d done more of since meeting Mary Grace than he had in a long time. He knew the heavy guilt he carried over Finn had pretty much taken over his life, but he was so close to finding the culprit, or culprits, he could almost smell it. But to answer Mary Grace’s question. Did he trust her? She still hadn’t told him what she’d found in the shack. But in the end, did it matter? After this was over, they would go their separate ways.
“Maybe.” He grunted when a sharp elbow jabbed him in the side. Not many people would’ve had the courage to do what she had just done, much less argue with or tease him. And that included his own family, at least since the incident with Finn.
“Just for that I might let you fall into a bog and leave you there.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” he surprised himself by saying.
She sniffed. “Well, at least you trust me that much. Let’s grab our gear and go.”
“Let’s get out of here,” he agreed.
“Fine by me. I’ll lead the way. Stay close. I have a flashlight in my backpack, but I won’t turn it on until we reach the dangerous places. We’re taking the shortcut to Gram’s.”
She stuffed the mutt back inside the dog carrier, then tugged on his sleeve. He and Krieger allowed her to lead the way. He had no problem allowing a person, man or woman, to take charge of a situation if they were more knowledgeable about the current circumstances. Hyperalert, Ned scanned the area as they moved quietly through the swamp. They were heading away from Mirror Lake at a fairly rapid pace, but they didn’t get far before Krieger released another low growl, indicating someone was right on their heels.
Mary Grace must have understood what was going on. She dropped back a couple of steps and whispered in his ear, “I have a plan. Stay right behind me and try to step exactly where I do.” Ned’s instinct was to circle around and surprise their company from behind, but he couldn’t risk leaving Mary Grace.
“Lead on,” Ned said, surprising himself. Mary Grace might know the swamp, but Ned was an expert at guerrilla warfare. If he were still a praying man, he would have asked for help, but the Almighty hadn’t seen fit to help Finn and Ned’s faith had taken a nosedive. He’d learned to take care of himself just fine.
Ned gave a hand signal to Krieger and the dog followed him closely from behind. He did his best to step where she did, but it was hard to see. It had gotten even darker the farther they traveled into the swamp. She slowed to a stop in front of him and he placed his lips close to her ear.
“Why did we stop?”
“Shh, wait and listen. Just give it a moment. I want to make sure my trap worked, then we’ll move on.”
Ned stood behind her, not moving a muscle. He could stay motionless for hours if need be. He’d done it plenty of times in the past, but he almost failed to hear the quiet commotion behind them because the cinnamon smell in her hair had assailed his senses. The woman was a walking Christmas card, ugly sweaters and all.
The night creatures suddenly went still and frantic whispers floated through the air.
“I need help. I’m buried in the mud up to my calves,” one guy hissed.
“I’m in the same situation,” a calm, authoritative voice answered. “We’ll have to leave our boots behind. Lift one leg out slowly and try to find firm ground, but make it fast.”
“Why?” the first guy asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
“Because there’s a gator headed our way and I don’t plan on being his next meal.”
The first guy gave up all pretense of keeping their location a secret and belted out, “This is not what I signed up for. I was only supposed to accompany you. The boss wanted to make sure you did the job right.”
Humor laced the second man’s voice. “Well, now, if you make it out of the swamp alive, you can report everything to your boss.”
Ned heard a pft, pft, double rapid suppressed fire, and knew some gator had probably met his death. Either that or the professional hit man had just rid himself of his employer’s tattletale appendage.
Ned nudged Mary Grace forward. He didn’t have time to round up the two men behind him for questioning. His first priority was to get Mary Grace to safety.
* * *
After hearing the muffled report of the gunshots, Mary Grace stumbled forward when Ned nudged her from behind. As a reporter, she’d been in some dicey situations in her life, but nothing compared to this. She prayed the man with the calm, icy-sounding voice had shot a gator instead of the whiny man accompanying him. She had known they were in danger, but actually hearing the two men in the swamp somehow made it much more real. And personal. Very personal.
She led the way out of the swamp, but with every step she took, anger replaced her initial fear. How dare someone set up her brother and try to kill her, Bobby and Ned. She became very determined to expose everyone involved in this mess. And at Christmas, of all times. It was the birth of Christ, a time for people to come together with good cheer.
About thirty minutes later, she stepped into the clearing at the back of Gram’s property, but Ned grasped her arm.
“Let me check the area, see if anyone is watching the house.”
She nodded her assent and sighed when he commanded Krieger to stay with her and Tinker Bell. Ned always seemed to protect everyone in his care, but she briefly wondered if anyone protected him. Was he close to his family, or had the mission with Finn changed him? She jumped when he soundlessly appeared at her side.
“Stop doing that,” she whispered jerkily.
“Doing what?” he asked, all innocence.
She ignored his taunt. “Can we approach the house? I want to check on Gram.”
“We’re clear. I’m sure your grandmother is okay, but I don’t want to take any chances that someone else might be in there. Do you have a key? I can jimmy the lock if you don’t.”
Upon hearing his words, Mary Grace scrambled around the side of the house and up the steps leading to the front porch. Going to the bench swing, she took hold of the left chain connecting the swing to the ceiling and crimped it, pulling the links apart. Ned crowded behind her and watched as she removed a spare key that had been interwoven with the other links.
“Ingenious,” he exclaimed as he followed her, breathing down her neck,
to the front door.
“Thanks. It was Bobby’s idea.”
Anxious to make sure Gram was safe, she turned the key in the lock, and wished she hadn’t mentioned her brother because she literally felt Ned stiffen behind her. Well, that was too bad. She loved Bobby and had no doubts of his innocence. She would always protect her brother.
She cringed when the lock clicked as she turned the key. The letter from Bobby tucked away in her pocket probably proved his point about the trust issue. She hadn’t exactly been honest with him, but she had to read the letter before she’d even think about allowing Ned to see it.
Ned pulled her behind him when she pushed the door inward and slid in front of her, entering the house first. Irritation rippled through her. She was used to taking care of herself, but memories of the sounds of muffled gunfire in the swamp made her shiver. She decided having six and a half feet of muscle go in front of her to make sure the house was safe didn’t make her any less independent or strong.
She wanted nothing more than to check on Gram, but she silently followed Ned and Krieger through the downstairs, checking every room. She had to shush Tinker Bell a couple of times. They circled back to the foyer and she pointed toward the beautiful double staircase leading to the second floor. They took the one on the left and slowly made their way up the steps. On the landing, Mary Grace pointed left again and tugged on his shirt when they reached Gram’s room. She stepped around Ned, cracked the door open and assured herself that Gram was still safely tucked in. A soft, gentle snore reached her ears and she grinned. Being a gentile Southern woman, Gram would have been horrified if she knew she snored. Mary Grace pulled the door closed.
“I don’t want to scare her. There’s no one in the house and I’m hungry. Why don’t we go downstairs and raid the refrigerator?” She desperately wanted to read the letter from Bobby, but her empty stomach had decided otherwise.