Celebrating Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  “Oh, we’re not Saints.”

  “Not yet,” Jack said, his dark eyes holding a twinkle. “So far, he manages to come when we need him, but who knows? I might just talk him into joining us. We always seem to need a good investigator and Scarlett’s got special skills.”

  The other Saints joined in with “here, here” ringing out. Nathan simply nodded and with a shrug, just said, “I’m thinking about it.”

  Soon the drinks and sandwiches were gone and goodbyes were said amongst the group, everyone trudging home to their wives, fiancés, and families. Blaise, Grace, Bayley, and Nick were the last to leave.

  As Jack walked them to the door and stepped out onto the porch, he shook Nick’s hand and said, “I know this case was…or became, personal for you. But any regrets about leaving the Bureau and joining with us?”

  Nick’s gaze roamed to Bayley’s upturned face smiling gently at him before lifting his eyes to the clear, night sky dotted with a million stars. Inhaling a deep breath of cool, mountain air he shook his head as he turned back to Jack. “No regrets.” With a last nod, he wrapped his arm around Bayley, tucking her in closely and together they walked into the night.

  Bayley rolled over in bed, staring at the beauty in front of her. Tall, dark, mysterious, beauty. Not getting home until the wee hours of the morning, they were exhausted but too keyed up to sleep. After a hot shower, forgoing another attempt at shower sex, they crashed into bed together, where they burned up the sheets in an effort to wipe clean the fears from the previous hours. Finally falling asleep, tangled up in each other’s arms, Bayley was not surprised to see that it was already late morning.

  Slipping from his embrace, she headed to the bathroom and then into the kitchen. As the dark coffee streamed from the Keurig, she inhaled the aroma, sunlight streaming through his windows. Looking out over the city with the mountains in the background, she sipped the hot brew after doctoring it with cream and sugar.

  “Hey.”

  Nick’s warm voice slid over her as his breath washed by her ear. His arm snaked around her middle, pulling her back into his body tightly as his other hand reached for her coffee, taking a liberal sip.

  “How do you stand all that milk and sugar, babe?”

  Twisting her head up, she grinned. “I’ve got a cup of black for you on the counter.”

  With a squeeze, he stepped back and retrieved his cup. Following her out onto the balcony, they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

  “I get you following the guys who took Daphne,” he said eventually. “You saw that, you knew something was happening. You wanted to help your friend until you could get to us.”

  Bayley looked over at him, but he did not seem to be searching for an explanation…just stating the obvious. He slowly looked toward her, his brow furrowed, and asked, “But the laundry truck. Why follow that? Just because you saw Agnes in it?”

  She allowed her eyes to roam over his face, mesmerized at the intensity of his gaze. Smiling, she simply said, “Instinct.”

  “Instinct?”

  “It seemed incongruous that she would be driving a truck. The pieces of what I knew about her did not fit with that observation.”

  “And that was all it took to become suspicious?” he asked, setting his coffee cup on the ground and gently pulling her into his lap.

  Straddling him, she kissed him, long and sweet. She cupped his scruffy jaw as he held her soft cheeks. Leaning in, a whisper away, she quoted, “ ‘Instinct is a marvelous thing. It can neither be explained nor ignored.’ ”

  Laughing at her ability to produce yet another Christie quote, Nick swung his legs over the edge of the chair and, with her in his arms, stalked back to the bedroom. Holding on, she threw her head back and giggled.

  “And what does your instinct tell you about what I’m about to do?” he asked as they fell onto the bed together.

  Staring into his dark eyes, she replied, “Fun…passion…and…”

  “Love,” he added, holding her gaze.

  Nodding, she agreed, “Yes…love.”

  “I see you took my advice and flew into the star-filled unknown.”

  Nick looked at Santa standing next to him, both men watching the two women playing with the children in the Reindeer games. He and Bayley had returned to the Christmastown Inn when they traveled back to Tennessee to check on Uncle Bernie. They found him happy and healthy as he sat with his arm around Vera on his sofa, a teacup balanced on his lap. Four months had passed and Nick assumed the Santa character would not recognize or remember him. He should have known better.

  Nodding, he replied, “Yes, I did.” His gaze traveled from the children’s activity to Bayley, her bright blues eyes shining, leading the little ones in a game before passing out candy canes.

  Santa’s eyes twinkled as he shook with laughter. “Easiest way to find love, my boy. Just let go and celebrate the season of love wherever it finds you.”

  As Bayley’s eyes searched the crowd, landing on Nick’s, her light shone in his direction, warming his heart, and he knew Santa’s words rang true.

  One Year Later

  * * *

  Bayley left the shop early for lunch, walking down the street to meet Nick. The sun was shining and she lifted her face toward upwards, allowing the warmth of the day to engulf her. Opening her eyes, she was momentarily blinded by the brightness and almost ran into another pedestrian.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, steering clear at the last second from walking into a woman with dark blonde hair, streaks of reddish-gold highlighted in the sunshine. The woman’s dark eyes dropped quickly as she continued to move down the street.

  Bayley turned to watch her as she walked away, the spidey senses filling her making her think that she knew the woman. But the hair was different. The eyes were a different color. The nose may have even been slightly thinner. But…

  “Hey, sweetie,” Nick called out, jerking Bayley’s attention back in front of her. Nick placed a soft kiss on her lips then pulled back, his eyebrows raised. “Are you okay?”

  “Did you see that woman? The one I almost ran into?”

  He immediately lifted his gaze to peer down the street, but saw no one suspicious on the busy noon-time street full of pedestrians. Shaking his head, he looked back down into Bayley’s eyes. “I didn’t notice anyone. Who was it?”

  Looking back, she shrugged slightly. If it was not who she thought, it would not matter. And if it was who she thought, they did not want to be noticed. “ ‘Very few of us are what we seem.’ ”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, nothing…just me and my quotes. It was no one, I’m sure,” she replied, looking back up into Nick’s beautiful face. Slipping her arm through his, she said, “Taking me to lunch? I’m famished.”

  Laughing, he tucked her in closely as they continued down the street.

  From the opposite corner, the woman watched the couple as they walked away and she smiled. Turning her face to the warm sun, she sighed. Sometimes she was lonely. Sometimes doing the right thing was not easy.

  She had not needed to testify against her family with the evidence the FBI had found in the hotel, along with the rescued women. So, no witness protection for her, but with the assistance of Harlan, she had managed to make changes. He worked with a special group he knew to give her a new identity. He had never explained, but supposedly the group was able to pull off about anything needed, so she had a new birth certificate, new social security card, new driver’s license.

  She had hated using any her money, knowing it was from her family’s business, but nonetheless took out just enough to afford to disappear—plastic surgery on her nose to alter her appearance slightly and a small apartment. With new hair color and clothes bought from a thrift store, she was able to stay hidden. From what, she was not sure since her whole family had gone to prison. Harlan suggested she move far away—across the country or across the world. But she felt the pull toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. Maybe because they had giv
en her refuge when she needed it. Maybe because the mountain man with the beautiful dog was nearby and even if she could not see him, it gave her comfort knowing he was close.

  A gust of wind blew briskly, bringing her thoughts back to the present. She still struggled with what she had to do, but today, seeing Bayley’s happiness, she felt less lonely. In the last year, she had had a lot of opportunity to read and found herself devouring a great deal of Agatha Christie, having been intrigued by Bayley’s words. And as Agnes turned to walk back down the street, she softly reminded herself, “ ‘I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow; but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.’ ”

  Two Years Later

  * * *

  Nick drove into his driveway, his gaze landing on the two-story Colonial in the family neighborhood. The homes were built back in the time when each house was individual in design and he loved the brick façade, complete with green shutters and a green front door. Walking to the porch, he waved at Grace standing in her front yard across the street, little Ben toddling at her feet as she watered flowers.

  He came home early, tip-toeing into the house attempting to keep noise down to a minimum. His gaze swept the front living room, a baby swing in one corner, baby blanket on the floor, laundry folded in a basket sitting on the sofa, and Mr. Lickers curled up in a sun-spot on the chair. Passing the kitchen, he noted the washed bottles lining the counter and the breakfast dishes in the drying rack.

  Smiling, he continued to tip-toe up the stairs, hearing a slightly off-key lullaby being sung. Turning the corner at the top, he moved into the doorway of the nursery, his gaze finally landing on the objects of his desire. Bayley sat in his mother’s rocking chair, nursing baby Bernard. Just like his uncle, his son would be called Bernie. Bayley insisted on the name and Nick had to admit, it was perfect. His son had a set of lungs on him and when he cried, his face turned beet red and his eyes squinted as he bawled. Uncle Bernie claimed he had the makings of a Marine Drill Sergeant.

  Bayley looked up, her beaming smile hitting Nick right in the chest, just as it had that first night in the nightclub. Baby Bernie’s mouth was slack against her breast as his little fist curled up over his mother’s heartbeat.

  Nick walked over, assisting her from the beloved rocker, and kissed the top of his son’s head before she placed him in the crib. The two of them slipped from the room, arm in arm, and he steered her toward the master bedroom.

  “Oh, honey,” Bayley protested, “I’ve got to finish putting the laundry away and I know the dishes are still in the drying rack in the sink.”

  Continuing to guide her to the king-sized bed, he turned her toward him, kissed her head, and then gently pushed her shoulders so that she plopped down on the mattress. Crawling over her, he said, “All that stuff can wait. It doesn’t matter. You need to rest when you can and right now, with Bernie asleep, this is the perfect time for a nap.”

  Her tired eyes grateful, she snuggled up next to him, soon the two drifting into sleep.

  Ten Years Later

  * * *

  “Bernie, don’t run,” Bayley called out as her arms were full of four-year-old Bryce, while also holding the hand of seven-year-old Brooke.

  Nick dropped their luggage as he grabbed Bernie’s shoulder. “Whoa, slow down there, son. We’ll all get to see him in just a minute.”

  As a door elf welcomed them into the entrance of the Christmastown Inn, the children squealed at the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. Bayley laughed as she walked over, hugging both while keeping an eye on her rambunctious children.

  “It is so good to see you again,” Mrs. Claus exclaimed, embracing each child, now standing in rapt attention receiving their candy-cane.

  As they walked over to the tall, stone fireplace to warm their fingers, Santa stepped toward Nick, extending his hand in greeting. Nick shook his hand, while staring into the face that had become so familiar. Cocking his head to the side, he noted that Santa had not aged one bit in the last thirteen years.

  Seeing Nick’s perusal, Santa laughed, his belly jiggling. “Oh, you know me, Nick. Me and Mrs. Claus are always the same. Been that way for as long as I can remember.”

  No longer doubting what his mind could still not perceive, Nick smiled, glad for the familiar face. The two men turned to watch Mrs. Claus, Bayley, and the three children laughing with glee at the decorations.

  “You’ve got a beautiful family, Nick,” Santa commented, his blue eyes twinkling.

  Nodding, Nick agreed. “You once told me to celebrate love wherever I could find it.” His eyes never leaving his family, he said, “I have. And I celebrate the love that is right in front of me every day.”

  With a jolly clap on the back, Santa led Nick over to join the others as Bayley beamed up at him, warming his heart.

  * * *

  The End

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