A Marshal's Embrace

by Dora Hiers

“If it’s the council’s directive to support this project, the city will appropriate the necessary funds,” the city manager responded, his tone subdued, distressed, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to be part of that discussion.

  Danae turned to leave. Ryker supported her noodle-like legs and guided them to a seat in the back.

  She blew out a breath as she sank into a chair and flicked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Ryker. I couldn’t have made it without you.”

  Ryker grabbed her hand and twined his fingers through hers. “You did just fine on your own, Danae. I’m proud of you.”

  She should have known her role of fundraising chairperson would reopen old wounds, create new fissures. But Ryker’s words energized her wounded spirit.

  A gavel pounded. “Five-to-two. Motion granted to absorb the expense of police and fire protective services and any public works cleanup for the event at Quiver Full Orphanage.”

  “Yes!”

  The two dissenting city council members frowned at her outburst. The city manager stroked his beard, hiding a smile.

  She lifted a fist to pump in victory, but Ryker tugged it, pulling her from the seat and practically hauling her to the lobby outside the council chambers. He hugged and twirled her around, her low-heeled shoes dangling in the air.

  “Yes! We did it!”

  “No, you did it, Danae. I’m so proud of you.” He set her back on the ground but didn’t release his grip around her waist.

  She leaned into his chest, savoring the victory, relishing the moment with the handsome man at her side. A victory for all the kids who lived at Quiver Full, past, present, and future. For the house parents who’d toiled blood, sweat, and tears with little or no reward.

  For herself, her brother. For Ryker.

  10

  “You have to go where?” Ryker closed the tablet, giving her his full attention, certain he’d not heard her correctly again.

  “Florida.”

  “No way.” He took a long slug of coffee, eyeing her over the rim of the mug. Dressed in a blue flight suit, hair pulled back in a ponytail, a gym bag slung over her shoulder. Nope, she wasn’t kidding.

  “It’s only a three-day job, Ryker. I’ll be back sometime Thursday night.”

  When he’d agreed to keep an eye on Danae, Ryker hadn’t given a thought to her job. Now what, McLane?

  Sweat beaded on his upper lip and dampened his palms. He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  She was flying to Florida? Twice? Once there and once back? He gave his head a little shake.

  He couldn’t do it.

  She obviously saw his hesitation, his dread, because her expression softened. “I’ll be okay, Ryker. You don’t need to go. I’m not sure you’d like the Lear 40 anyway. It seats six, but it probably doesn’t have enough leg room or ceiling height to be comfortable for a big guy like you.”

  Not enough leg room? A low ceiling? An already sick patient on the flight?

  His stomach felt weighted with rocks. No, make that cement blocks.

  How could he not go? He couldn’t protect Danae if he wasn’t with her.

  How could he go? He hadn’t stepped foot on a plane since Granny’s death.

  The picture burned into his memory. Granny, her gray head turned toward him. The panic—or was it fear?—as her head slumped into Ryker’s lap. A heart attack. Granny had died before the pilot could land the plane at the nearest airport.

  Ryker hadn’t been able to speak, couldn’t form the words to call for help. The flight attendant had come to his rescue.

  Thirteen years old, and he couldn’t call for help. Shame flamed through him.

  His breath caught. His stomach threatened to give up the cereal he’d eaten.

  Nope. He could not step foot on that plane. “Danae, can somebody else do the job?”

  She dropped the gym bag on the kitchen floor and shook her head. “Sorry, Ryker. Tammy’s on vacation. I’m it until she gets back.” She pulled a mug out of the cabinet and reached for the coffee decanter, poured herself a cup. “Did Lorie leave already?”

  “Yeah. She left about seven thirty.”

  “You’ve been up that long?” She added sweetener to the coffee and stirred, glancing over a shoulder as she tossed the spoon in the sink.

  He checked the time on his phone. “It’s nine o’clock, Danae.”

  She poured cereal in a bowl then a splash of milk. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those early-to-bed, early-to-rise persons?”

  Was that a bad thing? “I consider myself an all-day person.”

  She snickered and sat down at the table with the bowl. “Now that I think about it, you did go upstairs pretty early last night.”

  “I’ve just had major surgery, woman. And you’re the one yacking at me to take care of myself so that I don’t end up back in the hospital.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Danae crunched the cereal, not looking anywhere near sorry. More like she was teasing or egging him on.

  Ah. She was trying to take his mind off flying. Well, it wasn’t working. “What time do you need to report to work?”

  “As soon as I finish eating.”

  Man, she wasn’t making this easy.

  “Would you feel better if you dropped me off?”

  The only way he’d feel better is if she didn’t go. “No.”

  “Ryker, I can’t put my life on hold because some crazy person tried to send me a message.”

  “I’m not convinced that the incidents aren’t related. The break in and attack at your house, the elevator incident, the cement—”

  “I get what you’re saying. But I’m not convinced that they are related. Besides, everything happened here, in this area. Nothing’s happened to me while I’ve been working.”

  He mulled that over for a second. She had a point. “That’s true.” He stood and refilled his coffee. Maybe she would be okay in Florida by herself.

  His phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up and glanced at the ID.

  U.S. Marshal. Work?

  “Excuse me, Danae, but I need to take this call.”

  “Sure.” She continued munching on the cereal and picked up the Carolina Living section of the newspaper. “Ryker, I can’t believe you still read paper news.”

  He flashed her a glare and paced a few steps away from the table, rested a hip against the kitchen counter. “McLane here.”

  “McLane. It’s Randall. Glad I caught you early.”

  “Hey Randall. What’s up?”

  “The boss wanted me to call and make sure you know about the mandatory eleven o’clock staff meeting.”

  “I got the email.” Danae sorted through the rest of the paper. Picked up the sports section.

  With another glare, he gestured for her to put it back. She grinned and ignored him, hiding her face behind the paper.

  “You coming?”

  “I’m on sick leave, remember?”

  An abrupt snort sounded on the other end of the phone. “Guess you’d better be dead if you don’t make the meeting. Boss says it’s that important. Wants everybody here. If you still want a job to come back to after that sick leave, you’d better be here at eleven.”

  Ryker blew out a sigh. “Thanks, Randall.”

  “No problem. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news and all.”

  Ryker disconnected. Well, that took care of his indecision about going with Danae. Didn’t make him feel any better about it, though.

  “You have to go to work now?” Danae peered at him over the top of the newspaper, a sprinkling of concern in her voice.

  “Yeah. A mandatory staff meeting.”

  She nodded, her lips quirking up on one side. “That shouldn’t be too bad.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “You obviously haven’t been to one of our staff meetings.”

  She chuckled.

  He loved that sound. A tinkle of joy. Pure Danae. “The staff meeting might be done by the time you get back.”

 
“Ouch. That long, eh?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes they seem like it. Guess it just depends on how I feel about the topic.”

  “You’re on paid sick leave. Why do you have to go?”

  “I don’t know. Probably some high-profile case in the works.” He didn’t want to discuss why he had to work while he was on leave, didn’t want to delve too deeply into how much or how little he valued his job right now. Because he hadn’t figured that out yet himself. “Which hospital are you transporting to?”

  “The Children’s Hospital right outside Orlando.”

  “What time do you think you’ll get in?”

  She shrugged and walked over to the sink to rinse out the cup and load the dishwasher. “I don’t know, Ryker. It depends on the patient. How long it takes to stabilize him and how well he does in flight.”

  In flight. Ryker’s insides quivered. Why did Danae have to fly in miniature-sized airplanes for a living? Why couldn’t she have a normal job working in a hospital? Or even as a Paramedic for a transport company—the kind that used a van to transport patients.

  Maybe he would drive down and meet her in Orlando. He could be there by late evening, depending on how long the staff meeting lasted.

  He’d better pack a few things himself. “I’ll drive you to the airport, Danae, and then head on to my meeting. Can you give me a few minutes to change clothes?”

  “Sure.”

  Now that he had a plan, one that involved his feet firmly planted on the ground and protecting Danae, he felt one hundred percent better.

  ****

  Danae felt terrible about leaving Ryker. He’d worry about not being able to protect her, fret over his hang-up of flying. Not that he would admit it.

  She tugged her bag from the truck’s cab. “Thanks for the ride, McLane. I’ll text you when we leave Orlando to head back.”

  “You better text me when you get there.” The gruffness in Ryker’s voice surprised her.

  She angled her head to look in through the open door, surprised at the tenderness in his expression.

  Ah, yes, the big brother look. The one that said he knew she’d be in trouble of some sort before long and that she would need him. Well, she’d show him.

  “No worries, Ryker. I’ll be fine.” And she meant it.

  She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and slammed the door. Walking toward the med flight office, she didn’t dare risk a glance back. She wouldn’t let his fear of flying, or his exaggerated concern for her safety, derail her intentions of going on this mission. A ten-year-old boy, recently diagnosed with leukemia, needed her.

  The scent of fresh coffee and donuts wafted through the open door. “Hey, Jacko. Who’s the meanie tempting us with donuts?” She filled a to-go cup with coffee, averted her gaze away from the pastries as she dumped sweetener in the coffee. Now if she could only turn off that sweet smell.

  “Morning, Danae. You can thank Ames for bringing them.” Jacko, co-pilot and emergency medical technician, cocked his head toward the hanger and popped the last bite of a chocolate glazed cake into his mouth.

  “Thank him? Why would I want to thank him for trying to add about five hundred calories and what feels like at least an inch to my hips?” She huffed and turned in the opposite direction of the temptation, almost spilling her coffee.

  Just what she needed to do with Ryker. Was Florida far enough that Ryker wouldn’t be a temptation? She smiled. Probably not.

  Jacko laughed. “Whatever.” He grabbed a set of keys from the desk. And another donut, this one covered in toasted coconut. “You ready to check the supplies?”

  “Sure.” She grabbed a couple sanitary wipes from the desk to wipe her hands, handed one to Jacko.

  “Thanks.”

  Danae followed the EMT through the back door into the hanger area where the med flight ambulance waited along with their helicopter and plane, pride in their small operation bringing a smile to her lips.

  She loved working here. Her boss, Clem, insisted that if the patient was within a one-hundred-mile radius of Charlotte, their ambulance transported the patient to the plane. His service motto was “care from beginning to end.” Clem’s charity transports earned her respect even more. Today, they would pick up their patient at Health Care of Carolina.

  “Thanks for the donuts.” Danae hollered and waved at the pilot doing the pre-flight checks.

  “You’re welcome. See you in a few minutes.” Ames waved.

  Danae retrieved the clipboard and followed Jacko into the back of the ambulance. Jacko called out supplies while Danae checked the list.

  “Looks good. You ready to roll?”

  Jacko peeled off his gloves and hopped out the back, tossing them in the trash. “Ready as ever. Do you have any plans in Florida?”

  “Like going to Disney?” Laughing, she followed him out. She hung the clipboard on the wall. “I’m up for it if you are. Or we could drive over to the coast. Hang out on the beach. Get a tan.”

  Jacko snorted and gestured to his red hair and pale skin. “You think I want to go to the beach?”

  Danae chuckled. “Yeah. I can see how that would be a problem. You’d end up with skin poisoning.”

  He tugged the keys from his pocket and opened the driver’s door, climbed in and cranked the engine, while she hopped in on the passenger side. “My sister lives nearby. She’s meeting us at the airport after our transport. You can come with me to her house if you’d like.”

  “Thanks, Jacko. I appreciate the invite. Let’s wait and see how this flight goes.” Jacko wasn’t offended. He knew she was teasing. She liked to hang out with her young patients. Give the parents a break.

  Jacko turned right, passing a black SUV with dark tinted windows. Parked on the side of the road just outside the hanger area, it looked out of place.

  Chris? No. Chris would be in his cruiser, working. Wouldn’t he?

  Probably a driver waiting for somebody to finish their business at the airport. Danae shook her head. She wouldn’t give in to the seed of insecurity that Ryker had planted. She’d lived her entire life looking out for herself. Now, God’s hand of protection wrapped around her. What more could she ask for?

  Danae never wasted travel time. Praying centered Danae’s thoughts on God, prepared her heart for the journey. Whatever road it took. She pulled out her phone and scrolled to the picture of their current patient. Lucas. “Cute little guy, isn’t he?”

  Jacko glanced at the small picture on her phone and shook his head. “Yeah. He is. Too young to worry about dealing with a disease like leukemia.”

  She sighed, knowing God didn’t always work the way she expected Him to. Petitioning God, she prayed for their utmost care in transport, for knowledge and cooperation among the doctors in Lucas’s treatment, and for his healing. For God to comfort Lucas’s parents, to squash their anxiety. For God to reveal Himself to Lucas.

  And to Ryker.

  “Three minutes away, Danae.” Jacko’s five-minute warning, always uttered two minutes late.

  Amen. She closed the prayer and opened her eyes in time to see Jacko swerve into the next lane. “Whoa! Keep it in your lane there, cowboy.”

  “Sorry.”

  She studied him for a minute. Satisfied that he wasn’t falling asleep at the wheel, she glanced in the side mirror as the big vehicle navigated a right turn to exit the interstate. She sucked in a breath. “Jacko, has that black car been behind us for long?”

  Her coworker glanced in the driver side mirror. “I don’t see a black car, Danae.”

  Call her paranoid but wasn’t that the same car from outside the airport? But she didn’t see it now, either. She exhaled, a long, slow breath and rubbed her sweaty palms together. She refused to live her life in fear.

  Jacko weaved through the side streets, his movements more erratic than normal. The brakes screeched at the curb to the hospital.

  What was up with him today? “Hey. Are you feeling well?”

  He swiped a sleeve across his foreh
ead. “Yeah. I think so.” He tossed the keys in the air, caught them and reached for the door handle. “Let’s go meet our patient.”

  11

  blk suv 3x

  Ryker stared at Danae’s text.

  Ignoring the shuffling of briefing papers being passed around the room, the boss’s droning voice, and the lingering odor of hours-old coffee burning in the decanter, he stared at the phone in his lap, trying to make sense of the text.

  What was she saying? That she’d seen a black SUV three times?

  “McLane! Are you with us?”

  Shaking his head, Ryker glanced at his boss. “No, sir.” He pocketed the phone and stood, gripping his side. “Will you excuse me for a minute?” Or two. Or three. Or however long it took to find out what was going on with Danae. “I think I need some pain meds.”

  His boss’s bushy eyebrows formed a rigid line across his brow, the first clue that he wasn’t happy. Then he cleared his throat. The second warning.

  Ryker didn’t wait for acknowledgement. He slipped out of the room, closing the door until it clicked firmly behind him, then practically jogged to the restroom. Once inside the men’s room, he called Danae, but it went straight to voice mail.

  Ryker tamped down the curse threatening to spew from his lips. That wouldn’t help matters. He texted. What’s going on?

  He waited. One minute passed. Then two.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead and soaked his palms. Dread pitted in his stomach. He shoved a hand through his hair.

  God, You haven’t listened to my prayers in a long time. But I think Danae might need help and You listen to her. Can You help me here so that I can get to her? And keep her safe in the meantime?

  Oh, man, what was he doing?

  Wasting precious time, that’s what. He couldn’t wait around all day for Danae to text back. It was time to switch to Plan B.

  If only he knew what Plan B was.

  But he knew what it wasn’t. It wasn’t hanging out in this orange-disinfectant-smelling bathroom waiting for his boss to send somebody to track him down. He had to get out of here.

  He yanked the door open and plowed into someone. “Oops, sorry. Excuse me.”