The Protector

by Dee Henderson

“Are you up to it?”

  He smiled at her doubt. “I think I can find the energy if you can.”

  “I tried to sort through some of the boxes, but I found the closet has been used as the place to store everything I didn’t want to unpack in the last move so it’s a bit chaotic.” Cassie stood and offered Jack a hand to pull him to his feet.

  Jack set Benji in the small box that had become her bed.

  Cassie turned on the lights in the bedroom, opened the closet doors, and turned on the lights in the walk-in closet. “Where do you want to start?”

  “I’ll hand out the boxes if you want to stack them in the hall.”

  “There’s no room in the hall. What if we stack them between the dresser and the bookcase in here?”

  Jack was doubtful that they would fit, but it would mean she had to carry them a shorter distance. “We can try it.”

  He moved aside the hanging clothes. If he worked clockwise around the closet… “This mouse is white.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure it lives in here?”

  “I’ve seen it three times.”

  Had he known there were this many boxes he would have suggested it another night. Maybe if he got them at least shifted away from the walls so the mouse wouldn’t have a place to hide… Jack picked up the first box, deciding to first clear out enough space so he could turn around. He made sure Cassie had both her arms under the box and that the heavier part of the box was toward her left arm before he released it.

  As he started to move clothes around on the rods to reach boxes below them, he realized she had been wearing only a fraction of her wardrobe since Thanksgiving. It was past time to take her out to a nice dinner. “This box has broken tape on the bottom.”

  She took it gingerly. “Got it.”

  “Jennifer wants to talk about religion.” Cassie had trusted him; he was going to return the favor. Frankly he needed some advice.

  Cassie bobbled the box. “Does she?”

  “Where am I supposed to start reading the Bible?”

  “Jack, we jumped from a mouse to a discussion about Jesus. Did I miss something?”

  He shot her a smile. “I am so glad similar shifts in conversation levels confuse you in the same way it does me. Every time Rachel does it I get lost.”

  She looked relieved at that. She carefully set down the box atop others. “You want me to tell you where to start reading the Bible.”

  “It’s a thick book.”

  “Actually, it’s sixty-six books put together into one book.”

  She laughed at his look.

  “You’ve read them all,” he guessed.

  “Yes, although I admit some of them are easier to read than others. What exactly does Jennifer want to talk about?”

  “Jesus.”

  “Try opening the Bible to the middle, then open the section to the right in the middle again. That will probably put you in the book of Luke or John. Those books are basically biographies of Jesus’ life.”

  “I don’t suppose there are CliffsNotes?” he asked, hopeful. He glanced over at her. She was doing her best not to laugh. “I didn’t think so.”

  “Jack, it’s not a hard book to figure out. Read it with common sense. When does she want to talk about it?”

  “She’s heading to Johns Hopkins on January 3 to start the next round of chemotherapy. Sometime before then, I imagine.”

  “Start with the book of Luke. It’s practical. I like it.”

  “Jen’s going to tangle me in word knots like Rachel does.”

  “Not intentionally,” Cassie offered sympathetically.

  “They never do it intentionally,” Jack countered. He pushed aside shoe boxes, looking to see if any had corners chewed out. He was reaching the last wall of boxes and so far there had been no sign of her uninvited guest.

  “What are we going to do for New Year’s Eve?”

  Jack liked the assumption of we. “Besides cut drunks out of car wrecks?” he asked, remembering last year.

  “True. Besides that.”

  “I’m not big into late night parties.”

  “Do you want to bring over a movie? We could invite Cole, Rachel, make pizzas.”

  “Sure, we could do that.”

  “Your family wouldn’t mind?”

  “Nothing formal is planned. We’re scattering to different parties this year.” Jack picked up the next box. “Be careful with this one. I feel something sharp on the right side.” He was getting down to the last of the boxes. “I don’t think your mouse was home tonight.”

  “Or he’s inside one of these boxes,” Cassie offered, worried.

  Jack tipped forward the next to last box labeled books. “Get him!”

  Cassie scrambled toward the scurrying mouse that darted into the room and headed toward the dresser, trying to cut the mouse off. She was too late. “It’s a her,” she corrected, using her foot to block the path the mouse had used.

  Jack sat on the carpet in the now almost empty walk-in closet and rested his arms across his upraised knees. “She just went behind the boxes we just moved.”

  “I’m afraid so.” Cassie looked at him and she couldn’t stop the giggles.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She walked over to the closet doorway and leaned against the door frame. “You got beaten by a mouse.”

  He tossed a wadded up sock at her.

  “I could go get Benji and let her try,” Cassie offered.

  “As you’re the one who has to sleep in a room with a mouse, I wouldn’t laugh too hard. Do you have some cheese? We can at least try to lure it out of the bedroom.”

  Cassie pushed her hands deeper into her pockets as she stood on the curb and watched Jack scrape the frosted windows of his car. He had declined to let her help. “Would you call me when you get home?”

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t mean to imply you’re a bad driver.”

  Jack laughed. “Just that everyone else is.”

  “Exactly.”

  He opened the passenger door and tossed the windshield scraper onto the floorboard. “I had a good Christmas, Cassie.”

  “So did I.”

  “I see someone has added a hat to our snowman.”

  She looked toward the playground. A baseball cap had been pushed down on the snowy white head with a carrot nose and charcoal brick eyes. “He looks dashing.” A gust of wind blew snow from the overhang. She shivered and wrapped her arms tighter around her waist. “I’m going to head in before I freeze.”

  Jack grinned at her. “Good idea, you’re turning blue. I’ll call.”

  “Thanks.” She hurried back up the walkway.

  A car door slammed to her right and she glanced over. Her feet went out from under her and she fell hard on the sidewalk. “Ash.”

  Thirty-six

  She heard someone rushing up the walkway, then realized Jack had seen her fall. Her attention was focused solely on the man standing by an old Plymouth. There was no mistake about who he was. Ash was a ghost of the man she remembered—thinner, a suggestion of hesitancy where there had once been obvious confidence— but he was really here. “Ash.”

  He started walking toward her, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Hello, Cassie.”

  Rather than help her up, Jack stood between the two of them. Cassie grabbed the edge of his coat, using the hold to get leverage to sit up. “It’s okay, Jack. The man I saw at the fire was not Ash,” she murmured, understanding Jack’s instinctive move. Ash had grown a beard; his clothes were flannel and denim and his leather jacket looked beat-up.

  She caught Jack’s hand and forced him to give her his attention. He reached down and helped her up.

  “I would have been here earlier but the snowstorm slowed me down. I wanted to spend Christmas with you,” Ash said quietly, stopping a few feet away. “Hello, Jack.”

  “Ash.”

  Cassie felt like she was dreaming. He was really here. Th
e prayer she had prayed for months had been answered. She hadn’t been expecting it and that made her feel ashamed for doubting. “Please, come in,” Cassie urged. Months that Ash had been gone…she wanted to know all the details. And she was nervous about those answers. Her hand around Jack’s tightened painfully, hoping he’d offer to stay without her needing to ask him.

  Jack didn’t even give her a choice about it. He took the keys from her and settled his arm around her shoulders, putting himself between Ash and Cassie. “Were you driving into this storm?”

  “Skirting along its edge. I was in St. Louis yesterday coming up from the gulf.”

  “You do look like you’ve got a bit of a tan,” Cassie offered, getting her first good look at her partner in the light from the front door. He’d aged. The man she admired and trusted and followed without question into a fire was different tonight than the man she remembered.

  “I was out chasing a sunburn again.”

  He looked different, but he was starting to sound the same.

  Upstairs, Jack unlocked the apartment door and returned her keys.

  “You’re moving?” Ash asked, on seeing the boxes.

  “Cleaning house,” Cassie replied, shooting Jack an amused glance.

  “You’re a brave man. I helped her move in originally,” Ash commented to Jack.

  Cassie started to slip off her coat and Jack stopped her. His hands on her shoulders tightened and he leaned down. “Go change into something with long sleeves,” he whispered.

  She shot him a look, saw the sympathy, and understood. “Keep Ash company?”

  “I’ll host.”

  Cassie went to the bedroom before she slipped off her coat. She changed, choosing her best sweater, a soft pink cashmere. On their first meeting Ash didn’t need to encounter her most vivid scars from the accident. She was relieved Jack had caught her attention before she slipped off the coat. She ran a brush through her hair and went to rejoin them.

  The two men were standing by the patio door. Their conversation was pitched too low for her to hear.

  Jack turned when he heard her come back in. She smiled as she saw he was holding Benji. He walked over to join her. “I’ll leave and let you two have a chance to talk,” he said softly. He handed her the kitten.

  “Jack.” She didn’t want him to leave.

  He hugged her. “Listen to him, honey,” he whispered. “Then call me.”

  He wasn’t giving her a choice; he was pulling on his coat. “I’ll call.” She reluctantly walked him to the door and locked it behind him.

  Ash hadn’t moved from his place beside the patio door. “Jack gave me the kitten for Christmas,” she commented as she set B. J. down on her towel, suddenly nervous as she didn’t know what to say.

  “I won’t stay long.”

  “Ash—I’ve been hoping so long to have you back, but now that you’re here, I don’t know what to say.” She sat on the couch and gestured to the chair. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? Where have you been? Why didn’t you call? Oh, it’s good to see you.”

  “Cassie.” He waited for her to run down. “I got a call from an investigator looking into a fire in Tallahassee. It fit the pattern of the fire we had here, so I decided to go check it out.”

  “That abruptly? You couldn’t tell me you were leaving?”

  “I was tired of pacing, of being able to do nothing. I didn’t mean to abandon you; I just felt like until I could find something out, I had nothing left to offer you. And I wanted out. I’m not proud of it, but that was where my head was at.”

  Cassie wished he understood how much he had been doing just by being there for her. She heard so much lingering pain in his voice. “The accident wasn’t your fault. And the man who set the nursing home fire died in a car accident in New Jersey.”

  “I heard about his accident.”

  “But you still didn’t come back.”

  “It’s taken the last couple months to decide if I wanted to have a firefighter’s life again.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  He gave her a small smile. “The memory of your determination to get to this day and have your new beginning. I decided I needed one too.”

  “I’m glad.” She leaned her head back against the couch. “I don’t think you’ve changed, Ash. You’re still stubborn, impatient. And you would have gotten answers faster had you stayed here instead of taking off on your own.”

  He smiled at her. “You look well, Cassie.” The subject changed abruptly. “What’s been going on here that I missed? Besides Jack getting his act together.”

  The reference to Jack made her smile; the other question really disturbed her. “There’s been some fires.”

  “Arson fires?”

  She nodded. She got up and from her desk sorted around to find the file where she had collected the newspaper accounts. She handed him the file but didn’t immediately release it. She swallowed hard, feeling incredibly guilty. “I thought I saw you at the scene of the Wallis fire.”

  He stilled. “Did you? Why?”

  Water was dripping. Jack listened hard to the quiet in his house, trying to decide if the sound was coming from inside or outside. It sounded like it was coming from the bathroom. He was going to have to replace the seal on the sink.

  Jack shifted around and grabbed one of the extra pillows on the bed beside him and tossed it at the open door to push it closed and block out the sound. In the middle of the night small, unnoticed sounds from the day grew loud and annoying. Water dripping was one of the worst.

  He turned the page of the Bible, wondering why they made the pages so incredibly thin. The words might be large type, but it was still a bit like reading a newspaper with its two-column format.

  Come on, Cassie, call. He was struggling to stay awake.

  Ash was back.

  The shock of that was still settling in. Jack had a feeling his life had just gotten more complicated.

  Ash felt like part of this. In the same way Cole was part of it, as Jack himself was. Ash was one of those people connected to the department that had this arsonist’s attention. Someone, something had triggered the arsonist to start to act. And while it might be coincidence, the calendar said Ash had disappeared; then the fires had begun. Now Ash had reappeared—it was going to create a reaction. That was what Jack uneasily sensed in his gut. Why had the fires begun after Ash disappeared? What had that triggered? And what would happen now that he was back?

  Jack was glad Cole was involved to help sort out those questions. They were agonizing ones, and not something that could be talked about with Cassie. She would try to protect her partner. Jack wanted to protect her. And he was afraid their two goals might collide.

  He fingered the page of the book, considered closing it, but accepted he couldn’t duck this issue as easily as he could the other. Jennifer wanted him to consider this, and Cassie… Religion certainly mattered to her.

  He had to find a middle ground on this that showed he respected their position without offending them. He adjusted the bedside light and turned his attention back to what he had been reading for the last two hours. He wasn’t calling it a night until he heard from Cassie. And if he didn’t hear from her in the next half hour, he was going to call her.

  Who was Jesus Christ? This should not be so hard to figure out. Jack ran his hand through his hair, frustrated with how difficult it was to make sense of the book of Luke.

  Before reading the book Jack would have said Jesus was a man who was a good teacher who had ended up being martyred, and His followers were so impassioned about what He had taught they insisted He rose from the dead so they could claim they followed someone living rather than dead. It was a rather brutal opinion but common sense said claims of a resurrection had to be a myth.

  Luke presented something so much more complex. Jack got hit in the first pages of the book with talk of the angel Gabriel, of how the virgin birth came about. Long sections of Luke dealt with Jesus healing the sick. There
were references to Jesus knowing men’s thoughts. His teaching was blunt and searing to the heart of the matter. He was called a King, the Son of God. He claimed to be able to forgive sins. It was already an incredible statement of the man before Jack ever reached the chapter that described the Resurrection.

  To swallow any part of this, he just about had to swallow the whole. But to reject it because the Resurrection was implausible would do a serious disservice to the whole thing presented. There was so much here. It was a massive package.

  Jack was annoyed Jennifer and Rachel had simplified things in the past when they talked about it. It was easier to see a big, deep picture and possibly accept the Resurrection as part of it than to support it as a single stand-alone event. Was this why Jennifer and the other O’Malleys believed? Because of the whole?

  The phone rang. Jack glanced at the clock and reached for the phone. “Cassie, I was getting worried about you. It’s almost 1 A.M.” He shifted the phone to his other side and bunched the comforter as a pillow, closing the Bible he had been reading. “How did it go?”

  She didn’t say anything. “Cassie?”

  “I wish you were here so I could get a hug.”

  “Honey, go get some Kleenex.”

  She went away and eventually came back. “Sorry. It was just so good to see him. I’m happy. I cry when I’m happy.”

  Jack gamely accepted that because he had no choice. “Okay. That’s good to know.”

  She laughed around the tears. “Ash is going to come by the station this week and nag Cole into letting him come back to work.”

  “I’ll enjoy having a chance to talk with him. Cole was relieved when I called to let him know Ash had returned; he’ll be eager to talk with him too.” Jack was relieved to hear her quieting down. He wanted desperately to change the subject. “I was reading the book of Luke tonight,” he offered, hoping to divert her.

  “Really?”

  There was hope in that one word and he was glad he raised it. “Cassie, is Jesus alive?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know for sure?”

  She hesitated.

  “Tell me.”

  “In the dark days after the fire, Jack, Jesus understood all of it. The nightmares of being trapped in the fire, the pain, the despair. I could talk to Him and read His Word, and it was talking to someone who was there. He was always there. He answered me in so many profound ways, through events, through people, through His Word. He heard me.”