A Time to Protect

by Lois Richer

  They were coming for her! She glanced at Brendan, knew he couldn’t be her protector now. Oh, God, help!

  I’m here.

  Chloe looked around to see who’d spoken, realized the voice was in her head.

  “God? Are You really there?” That same soft rush of peace filled her soul. “Can You help me, God? Keep me safe? Can you send someone?”

  The footsteps faded then grew louder again. She thought she heard voices. One word filled her brain. Hide. Chloe slid across the seat and folded herself into the small space under the dashboard, trying to hide those portions of her white uniform that might catch the light and alert whoever was out there that she was here.

  Her side of the vehicle was nearest the road. A small beam of light flashed over the passenger side, tried her door. It didn’t open. She heard a mutter of something then the crunch of footsteps started again.

  They’ll kill me. Please help me, God.

  A moment later that white flicker of light pierced the glass, this time on Brendan’s side, illuminating his mussed hair and the trickle of blood that ran down past his cheek. Someone tried the door handle.

  Please help me.

  The door flew open. A man with brown hair leaned in. “Brendan?”

  Chloe gasped.

  Immediately he saw her, took in her hiding position. “Are you all right?” Her fear must have been obvious because he smiled. “I’m Rafael Wright. I live in the same building as Brendan.”

  Chloe wasn’t sure whether she could believe those soft brown eyes. The drug cartel was Latin based. This man had definite Latino roots. Her fingers crept up the door, felt for the handle. It wouldn’t work!

  “Can you just tell me if you’re okay? If you are, then I need to check on Bren. He looks a little worse for wear.” All the while he talked, his fingers were checking vital signs.

  “His breathing is pretty good,” she replied. “He has two cuts but I don’t think there’s anything serious. He must have knocked his head against the wheel before the bag went off.”

  “Good thing he’s got a hard head, then, isn’t it?” He pointed to the top of the embankment. “If you’re still worried, check up there. I called the cops before I came down here. Figured we’d need help when I saw your pal poking around here.”

  “My pal?” The flash of blue-and-red over the snow had ushered in a sense of calm that was immediately lost in his comment. “What pal?”

  “There was a guy down here before me. Didn’t you see him?” A groan from Brendan drew his attention. “Hey, buddy. Take it easy. You’re okay.”

  “Hey, Rafael. Where’s Chloe?” Brendan lifted one hand to touch his injured head. “Is she all right?”

  “She looks pretty good to me.” Rafael grinned and indicated to Chloe, who, feeling rather silly crouched in such an awkward position, moved onto the seat. “You might want to consider side airbags next time you buy. Can you walk?”

  “I’m fine. Just a bump.” He struggled to get out of the vehicle.

  “Whoa, hang on, buddy. What’s the rush? We’ve got to get you free of this wreck.” He looked at Chloe. “Can you undo him?”

  She slid the buckle free then climbed out beside Brendan, sliding her shoulder under his arm. “I’ll help you.”

  “Gotta get out of here. Too open. Where’s the escort?”

  “Their car was totaled. You left a trail of destruction behind you, buddy. You’ll see when we get to the top. Now go easy. No point in breaking a neck, too.”

  By the time they made it up the embankment, the road was swarming with police, tow trucks, ambulances. Damaged cars littered the road. Sam Vance was talking to his cousin Michael. Both rushed over to help, leaving Chloe to survey the area. It was impossible to tell if someone was watching her but standing out here like this she felt exposed, alone.

  “Come on, Mrs. Tanner. Into the car, please.” Sam drew her into a big rough vehicle. “This is Rafael’s. It’s a four-wheel drive. He’ll be able to get you two to the hospital. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Brendan’s hurt, though.”

  “What happened?”

  “Someone ran into us. Deliberately.” She was shaking. No matter how hard she tried to stop it, her hands trembled. Chloe stuck them under her thighs. “That man, Rafael, said he saw someone. You should talk to him.”

  “I will. Thanks.” Sam studied her, hands in his pocket. “I’d say someone was watching out for you two tonight, Mrs. Tanner. If you had to go off this road, this is the best place to do it. That you can walk away is a testament to God’s power.”

  “I think so, too,” she whispered, remembering that feeling with awe. God had answered. She’d asked for help and He’d sent Rafael.

  “Time’s up, Sam. We’ll leave the ambulances for those who need them most but Chloe needs to get to the hospital.”

  “So do you.”

  Brendan shrugged. “They can check us out there. You can ask her all the questions you want once she’s safely inside.” Brendan was all business as he surveyed the scene. He pushed past the detective. His gaze met hers. “You’re all right?”

  She nodded. “Can we please get out of here?” she whispered.

  He called Rafael and, after promising Sam he’d file a report later, they left, Rafael carefully easing in and out of the mess of wrangled cars. “The hospital’s going to be chaotic after this,” Rafael said, shaking his head.

  “Yes.” She couldn’t say any more. She was too busy thinking about that answered prayer. Her prayer. Her answer. Did she dare trust Him?

  “I can’t thank you enough, Rafael. I don’t know what we’d have done.”

  “Save it, man. You’d have done the same. Let me know when you want to leave and I’ll take you home. I’ll hang around for a while, see if there’s something I can do.” Rafael dropped them off, and left to park his vehicle.

  Inside the hospital chaos seemed to rule, though Chloe knew it only looked that way. She rode up in the elevator, protesting that Brendan needed to have someone look at him.

  “I’ve had a concussion—I know what it feels like. This isn’t it. I knocked myself out, that’s all. Probably deserved it. Go ahead and do what you need to. I’ll be right here.”

  “Chloe? What are you doing here?” Katherine Montgomery paused in the middle of changing an IV.

  “I was called in. They said you had a bunch of drug cases.” She looked around, surprised by the relative calm of the unit. “Where are they?”

  “Most of them have been released. Nothing too serious, thankfully. We kept two for observation.” Katherine frowned. “Nobody told me you were coming in, but since you’re here, I’ll head downstairs to help. There’s no need for all of us to be here.”

  “Sure. Not a problem.” Chloe listened to her report, waved her goodbye, then met Brendan’s look. She blinked as Katherine’s words sunk in. “They didn’t call me, did they?” she whispered. She’d been set up.

  Brendan dragged out his phone. “No, they set the trap and I took you right into it. How stupid can I be? If it hadn’t been for Rafael, they’d have—”

  “I thought you were the one who said you had to trust God.” She glanced over the charts to see what needed doing next. “I’d say He worked it out very well. We’re here and we can help. What’s wrong with that?”

  He stared at her. “Nothing, I guess.”

  “I’m going to change the mayor’s drip.” She smiled at his bemused expression. But Chloe stopped at the door to the mayor’s room, shocked by what she saw.

  The room was filled with praying people. Lidia and her children—except for Sam—were the only ones physically present in the room. But on the television screen, a camera panned Good Shepherd church showing a host of people filling the pews. Reverend Gabriel Dawson was leading them in prayer for the mayor’s recovery. The mayor’s guard touched her arm.

  “It’s quite a thing, isn’t it? That many people asking God to make him better—makes a man feel proud to guard someone so man
y folks care about. Looks like the whole town’s there.” His face tightened, shoulders went back. “He’s a good man, our mayor. Nobody’s getting to him on my watch.”

  “I’m glad.” Chloe’s heart contracted in a rush of sympathy when she saw tears flowing from Lidia’s cheeks onto the mayor’s still hand. Somehow it didn’t seem so bad to know that the mayor’s attacker had come after her instead of him tonight.

  “It’s nice to see you back, too.” The guard smiled as if they shared a secret. “I watched you with those drug patients last week. You care ’bout folks.”

  “We all do our part.” Working as quietly as she could, Chloe continued with her duties, mindful of the moment when Lidia finally left her husband’s room. “Are you all right, Mrs. Vance? Anything I can do for you?”

  “Just keep praying, dear. And keep caring for him as you have been.”

  “Of course I will.” Chloe watched her walk to the elevator.

  The unit grew quiet; most of the patients dozed comfortably. Chloe checked the mayor, saw on the television that the church was still filled with people praying.

  “I wish I could have been there,” she told him as she noted his pulse and oxygen levels. “I missed the first one, but I’m praying for you now, Mayor Vance.” As she went through her duties for the rest of the night Chloe continued to pray for his recovery even though that niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her of her own plight.

  What about next time? Was it merely chance that Rafael had come or would God be there the next time, too?

  At three-thirty on Christmas Eve, Brendan surveyed the mountain of things that had been donated and gulped.

  “Is this all of it?”

  “Not by a long shot.” Quinn grinned at him and went back outside for another load. By the time he was finished, Chloe’s basement looked like a department store. “Where’s Chloe?”

  “Wrapping gifts.” Brendan tried to explain. “She doesn’t wrap them like we do, Quinn. She makes them into art projects. I don’t know how anyone opens them, they’re so lovely.”

  “No other incidents?”

  “Nope. And my Christmas shopping is finished, thanks for asking. Except for putting together the baskets, my holiday tasks are done.” He laughed at Quinn’s groan then pulled his list out of his pocket. “I guess we might as well get them made up.” He’d hoped to get enough donations for eighteen baskets. But when those were filled, gifts wrapped and ready to be delivered, there was still a stack of things on the floor. “What now?” he asked Quinn.

  “Wow! Somebody’s got a serious shopping problem.” Chloe stood on the bottom step, staring, mouth slightly agape. “Will I need to charge you guys rent for this stuff?”

  “We got a little more than we expected,” Brendan told her sheepishly.

  “You think?” She walked past piles of foodstuffs, toys, books, gift certificates. “What are you going to do with it all?”

  “We have no idea.” Brendan waited, hoping she’d think of something.

  “Your mother knows everything and everybody in this town,” Chloe said thoughtfully, fingering a tiny doll. “She might know where this could go.”

  “Hey, good idea.” Brendan pulled out his phone. Ten minutes later Fiona was there. Two hours later they had more baskets ready to go to families she knew were in need.

  “Mom! When’s supper? We’ve got to get ready for the church concert,” Maddie yelled.

  “So you’re going?” Fiona followed Chloe up the stairs. Brendan followed.

  “Yes.” Chloe’s full bottom lip thrust out. “I’m not missing Christmas just because some guy is out there. I’m going tonight. We all are.”

  “Yes, we are.” Fiona helped her set the table and soon another riotous Montgomery meal was in progress. They went to the church by van loads.

  Brendan could only hope Chloe didn’t notice that she was always surrounded by someone. He sat next to her during the presentation, and wished he had the right to tell her how proud he was of Kyle’s Christmas poem and of Madison’s sweet treble solo. But he had no right to tell her anything.

  Chloe wore midnight blue, emphasizing her glorious eyes. Her auburn hair danced around her head in a thousand ringlets that were never still. She worshipped freely, sang the old songs and greeted those around her at the end of the service with no obvious inhibitions. He longed for the right to sling his arm around her waist, to pull her close, murmur how much she meant to him and wait for her beautiful smile.

  “Are you staying for the social?” Fiona asked.

  “We can’t.” Chloe brushed her hand over Madison’s head. “We’re decorating our tree tonight. You’re welcome to join us.”

  Never one to turn down an invitation, Quinn, Fiona and Joe joined in as if they were family. To Brendan’s surprise, Chloe didn’t seem to mind his rambunctious family. She laughed, giggled and stood on tiptoe trying to get the star atop the tree. Finally he grasped her by the waist and lifted her up so she could reach.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her blue eyes meeting his in a look that made his heart rate soar. “For everything. It’s been a really great evening.”

  “Yes it has. Did I tell you how good you look in that?”

  “About six times,” Quinn butted in. “Do you mind moving? We’re trying to set up a train here.”

  Chloe blushed, made some excuse about getting more cider for his dad, but when she came back, she’d forgotten the drink. A flicker of hope burst to life in Brendan’s heart. Maybe she felt something for him, too?

  “I wish you could come out to our place for Christmas,” Fiona fussed.

  “I do, too. But we’ll be fine here. I’ve got a huge turkey in the fridge and all the fixings ready to go. Being off work has made that part easier. I’m usually up long after the kids, wrapping, but this year I can truthfully say I’m ready for tomorrow morning.” Chloe opened a closet, pulled out her wig. “But before that we’re going to the torchlight parade, and then to deliver those baskets.”

  His mother waited until Chloe was busy before cornering Brendan. “Do you think she should go out? This lunatic could be anywhere.”

  “It’s her life, Mom. She wants to do it and I can’t talk her out of it. The disguises were successful before, they should be again. Besides, I’ve got a lot of agents who’ll be watching us. We’ll be okay.”

  “Your father and I are going, too. We’ll walk with the children, keep them away from you so no one will guess.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  The parade turned out to be a good experience. So many people turned out that it was easy to bury Chloe in the crowd. As they strolled with the others, singing the old carols, Brendan took the liberty of threading her arm through his. She looked at him, smiled and kept walking. His heart sang.

  Without any previous agreement, the entire group paused at the entrance to the hospital where Maxwell Vance lay. Someone began the first line to “Silent Night” and everyone joined in, their harmony rich as it rose into the star-filled sky. As the last notes died away, a sense of peace and calm filled the area. The town clock banged out the hour of midnight, signaling the start of Christmas day and each wished the person next to him a Merry Christmas.

  Safely back in their vehicle, this time in the back beside Chloe, Brendan had nothing to do but watch her face as their driver took them to the homes he’d chosen for his special baskets. Fiona had commandeered people to deliver the rest so Brendan and Chloe had just their own to distribute, plus one for Buddy Jeffers and his wife and one for the pastor and his family.

  Inside each basket were many of Chloe’s baked treats, perfectly wrapped and labeled so that every recipient would be able to celebrate Christ’s birth with abundance. Chloe seemed not to mind that she couldn’t see their faces when he delivered them. She’d already made sure each basket was elegantly decorated in white or red with huge green bows donated by the museum.

  Brendan had his method perfected. He raced up to the door with the basket, rang the door
bell, then scurried back to the vehicle before anyone answered. From inside the darkened van they watched, smiling at each other when squeals of joy penetrated the night. When the last basket was gone, they rode home silently. Somehow Chloe’s hand found its way into his and Brendan wasn’t about to remove it.

  “Thank you for taking me,” she whispered just before stepping out of the van. “This has been the best Christmas Eve I can remember.” She leaned forward, brushed her lips against his cheek, then stepped out and disappeared inside the house.

  “Dad’s on the phone,” Brendan heard Kyle say as he walked into her house, the place he’d begun to think of as home. “Can I ask him if he can come over tomorrow? Please?”

  “We’ll be eating Christmas dinner at five,” Chloe said. “He’s welcome to join us.” Brendan detected no sourness in her tone.

  Later, the children gathered around the fire with Chloe to hear the Christmas story Brendan read from the Bible. She hurried them up to bed after that, finally returning downstairs with one last load of laundry.

  “I’m compulsive, what can I say?” She ignored Brendan’s chuckle. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to give up your Christmas to be here,” she told Darcy and Fergus. “I feel badly that you have to miss seeing your families.”

  “Neither of us has a family, so don’t worry about that.” Darcy grinned. “Besides, I feel like part of this family. This is my kind of home.”

  “What a nice thing to say.” Chloe dug in a cupboard, unearthed a bag and disappeared into the living room. “No peeking,” she warned, closing the door in Brendan’s face. When she reappeared she was smiling. She said good-night then slowly climbed the stairs. A moment later she returned. “Cookies for Santa,” she whispered, grinning at him.

  Brendan picked up one, took a bite out of it. “Just trying to help. We wouldn’t want anyone to think your cookie was no good.”

  She smiled, then sobered. “Thank you for letting me have tonight,” she said. “That will see me through anything that can come now.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked, curious about a new quality he sensed in her. Chloe was always beautiful, but today she seemed to radiate comfort with her world. It was as if she’d moved past the fear to peace.