Protected (Jacobs Family Series Book 2)

by Vannetta Chapman

  Evelyn sat in the porch swing, rocking the baby. She hardly looked the grandmotherly type, since she could probably pace him in a marathon, but silver peppered her hair and lines created a mosaic around her eyes and mouth each time she smiled down at Joshua.

  “How long have you known Erin?”

  “Since she was a child.”

  Though her answers were short, her tone was friendly. Travis took that as a good sign and sat down on the top step of the porch.

  “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  Evelyn raised Joshua to her shoulder. “Sounds to me like you already asked two. Might as well get them all out of your system.”

  “Will she be a good mother for Joshua?”

  “Yes.”

  Travis ducked his head. “Care to add anything to your response?”

  “No need. I answered your question.”

  He liked this woman. In fact, she looked familiar now that he’d studied her a bit. “Do I know you, Mrs. England?”

  “You should. I’ve watched you grow up at church.”

  Travis punched the air with a fist. “Sunday school. Second grade.”

  “You were a rowdy one back then. Not nearly as tall, of course.”

  “Growth spurt hit in junior high.”

  Evelyn rubbed Joshua’s back and let the memories settle around them. Their church was growing larger every year. In addition, Travis usually attended the early service. He bet Evelyn attended the more traditional eleven o’clock one.

  When he finally spoke, it was as much to himself and the birds flitting in the crepe myrtle tree as it was to Evelyn. “Moring told me early on that Doc England was sponsoring Erin, and repeatedly Erin has mentioned Doc—somehow I didn’t put two and two together. Didn’t connect her Doc with the man who patched together Gus when he caught his leg in that hunter’s trap.”

  “I guess it’s been a lot of years since you’ve visited his office.”

  He glanced up at the woman sheepishly. “Don’t think I’ve crossed to the dark side and started using one of those new vets in town. I don’t even own a pet. Haven’t since I moved out of my parents’ house.”

  “I imagine you’re busy enough with the children you oversee, and Doc is actually starting to shuffle patients off to those new vets. He can’t take care of every animal in Livingston, Texas. It’s one of the reasons he was happy to see Erin open the ARK.”

  “He helped her?”

  Evelyn shifted in the porch swing and lay Joshua on her legs. “Erin doesn’t accept help unless she’s in a corner. In case you haven’t noticed—and I’m betting you have—she’s a might independent. But those two have been close since…”

  Her voice trailed off and the expression on her face grew distant.

  “Since Erin’s foster parents died?”

  “Hard times. Erin pulled back from everyone after Jules and Nina passed. She even stopped talking to Doc, but she held herself together for the ARK. Her passion for saving hurt animals goes beyond what most of us put into our job. I would think it’s something you could understand.”

  Travis leaned back against the porch pillar. He would have never believed he had so much in common with Erin Jacobs, but it seemed their personalities matched on more than one level. Not that he considered himself an ideal candidate for a parent. He put so much into his job, there wasn’t much left for a family.

  “Given she does have a job requiring more than the average nine to five, do you think now is the right time for Erin to be a mom?” He leaned forward as Evelyn looked down at Joshua and traced his face with her finger.

  Instead of answering him, she walked into the house. He could hear her in the nursery, speaking softly to the baby.

  When she walked back out, she held two glasses of iced tea. She sat beside him on the step and picked up the conversation as if ten minutes hadn’t passed.

  “Right now, Erin has more on her plate than she can say grace over. But God has a reason for what he brings into our lives and His timing is perfect. It’s not an accident the mother of Joshua called Erin, or that Erin has such a love in her heart for this baby.”

  Travis started to protest, but Evelyn stopped him with a touch of her hand on his arm.

  “Drink your tea, son. I know it’s your job to examine this from every angle. God has also placed you at a crossroads though, and that’s your mission—to help Erin through this time. I’m sure you’ll find a way to do both.”

  It was a good thing Evelyn had brought the tea, because suddenly, Travis found his throat painfully dry. She’d just managed to put all the uneasiness, all the anxiety he’d struggled against for the last nine days, into a one-minute declaration. Then she made the solution sound as simple as the flight of the sparrows in front of him.

  That, he heard a voice in his heart whisper, was the essence of faith.

  —

  Erin returned home feeling satisfied with her work. The gator was unharmed and safely back in his habitat, and she was exhausted.

  Once at the house, she wanted nothing more than to sit on the floor and play with Joshua. First though, she had chores.

  Thankfully, Evelyn insisted on staying while she tended to the animals. She’d walked back into the house and practically fainted at the smell of homemade chicken and dumplings.

  “Eat. Joshua couldn’t wait for you, and I’m meeting Stanley at the Burger Shack later. It’s his favorite Friday night junk food.” Evelyn sat across from her, holding Joshua and feeding him his bottle.

  “Little man looks sleepy.”

  “He took a very small nap earlier.”

  Evelyn continued to feed Josh as Erin ladled herself a bowlful of dumplings and collapsed at the table.

  “You look exhausted, sweetie.”

  “Gators can do that to you.”

  “Sure it’s just the gators?”

  Erin shrugged and concentrated on blowing on the spoonful of dumplings.

  “Young ones can be exhausting—”

  “Especially when you’re alone?” Erin’s tone was sharper than she’d intended, but if Evelyn noticed she ignored it.

  “I felt pretty alone when mine were young. Stanley had signed on with Dr. Dunn, and he was at the clinic twelve to fourteen hours a day. Most nights, too, come to think of it. Livingston was more rural then…” Evelyn shook her head, lost in the memory.

  “Those were precious times, but I wouldn’t want to go back. Unless you’ve been there, you don’t know the loneliness of rocking a crying baby when you’re so tired you can’t hold your own head up.”

  Erin smiled and ate the bite of chicken and broth. On her tongue it turned into something beyond food—rich and creamy, exactly what she needed. If heaven were a soup it would be chicken and dumplings. The thought surprised, then amused her.

  “You can laugh about it now. I guess Joshua’s been sleeping well the last week.”

  Erin didn’t bother to correct her. No use trying to explain her daydreams over a bowl of soup. “He has been sleeping well.”

  “Might end when he starts teething. At least it did with my children.”

  “I read that in the baby book.” Erin reached for the cornbread. All of a sudden she was famished. Had she eaten lunch? She knew she’d had breakfast, because she’d eaten cereal while feeding Josh his bottle.

  “Baby books are one thing. Life is another.” Evelyn retrieved a washcloth from the drawer near the sink, warmed it under the faucet, and proceeded to clean Joshua’s hands. He endured it until she went for his face.

  His cries were loud and piercing as he squirmed this way and that to avoid the cloth.

  “I need to bathe him tonight, Evelyn. I don’t know why he hates to get his face wet. I have to give him a pacifier to distract him, and still, if I’m not fast, I get those screams.”

  “Might consider earplugs during bath time.”

  “For Josh?”

  “For you.”

  Evelyn handed Erin the baby and planted a big kiss on his tear-st
ained cheek. In response, Josh snuggled into the space between Erin’s shoulder and neck.

  “He’s a charmer, all right.” Evelyn walked over to a side table and picked up a business card. “Speaking of charmers, your caseworker stopped by this afternoon.”

  Erin rolled her eyes, but she took the card.

  “He wants to see you and Joshua in his office Monday at ten in the morning. If that time won’t work, he said to call and reschedule.”

  Erin ignored the headache forming at the base of her neck and focused instead on the feel of Joshua in her arms. His snuggly warmth and fresh smell, everything about him was right. And it almost made up for having to see Travis Williams on Monday. On second thought, it did not make up for that.

  Evelyn was already collecting her things in the living room.

  “Thank you, Evelyn. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t call you at the last minute for the big cases.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m being serious. Travis told me he wouldn’t approve Joshua’s placement unless I made different arrangements.”

  Erin led the way out onto the darkened porch, more so that she wouldn’t have to look into the older woman’s eyes than for any wish to hurry her off.

  “What else did he say?” Evelyn’s voice was stiff, defensive.

  It made Erin want to reach out and hug her, but she didn’t.

  “That was about it.” She didn’t want to go into the entire needing a social safety net conversation. She still had no clue what to do about that. She wasn’t ready to put an ad in the Livingston paper asking for friends.

  “Any other word from Mrs. DeLoach?”

  “DNA testing will be back next week, but I was convinced. She’s Joshua’s great-grandmother.” Erin tucked her hair behind her ear. “We went to see her again yesterday. She and Joshua have the exact same color of eyes.”

  Evelyn turned abruptly and peered at her in the porch’s dim lighting.

  “You don’t have to do that, Erin. No one expects you to cart this baby back and forth to Austin.”

  “If you could have met her…” Erin gazed out past the stand of live oak trees. “She’s a very sweet old woman, and she lights up so when she sees him. I needed to pick up some supplies anyway.”

  “Supplies UPS could have delivered.”

  Erin didn’t bother arguing with her.

  “Remember we’re out of town until Wednesday, going to see the grandbabies in Dallas.” Evelyn’s voice took on the no-nonsense tone. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here? There’s a storm due in this weekend.”

  “I have extra feed stocked for the animals and the humans. We’ll be fine.”

  “You call the church if you need anything.”

  Erin nodded, but they both knew she wouldn’t. She hadn’t been back at the church since Nina and Jules’s funeral.

  It wasn’t like the good folks of the congregation had been beating a path to her door, and she couldn’t blame them. Truth was they didn’t have much to offer each other. No, going back through the church’s doors didn’t appeal to her.

  So how would she establish a social safety net?

  Shirley would allow her to renew their friendship, had encouraged her even, but the woman’s hands were full with her own family and the menagerie of pets and cattle they had. Add in the charity work she did, and Erin didn’t believe she needed another project.

  Evelyn and Doc were all she had right now. They’d have to be enough.

  After watching Evelyn drive away, she placed Travis’s card on her desk. Monday morning. She frowned. At least she had something to look forward to after the long weekend—another chance for Angela to gossip about her, perhaps another depressing family to watch in the waiting room, maybe even experience another panic attack.

  She was grateful it was three days away.

  Who knew what could happen in that amount of time.

  Twenty

  Erin’s coughing started in the wee hours of Saturday morning, same as the rains.

  She fed herself canned chicken soup, wrapped up when she went to the barn, and tried not to cast a worried eye to the darkening storm clouds.

  The forecast called for possible flooding.

  She’d lived in Livingston all of her life and dealt with all types of weather. After taking care of her animals, she was determined to enjoy her day off from rescue calls. She was looking forward to spending quality time with Joshua. She closed the window blinds, turned on all her lamps, and shut the storm outside—for a time.

  Saturday night she pulled on her rain boots and stepped into water up to her calves.

  Checking the baby monitor in her pocket one more time, she trudged toward the barn. Once before she’d had to move the animals to higher ground, but never at night, and she hadn’t been sick then.

  She clenched her teeth together against the chills racking her body and hurried toward the dogs.

  How had the water risen so quickly?

  She shouldn’t have napped with Josh. The idea of resting her pounding head had been too tempting, and now her animals might pay the price.

  —

  Travis backed his boat into the slot beside his parents’ driveway. They’d built an extended covered area—ostensibly for an outside patio spot, but the dimensions perfectly fit Travis’s boat. Unhooking the Skeeter, he watched the water flowing down the street.

  He preferred keeping the boat at the lake, but the way this fierce storm had blown in, he felt better with it on high ground. He’d allowed himself few luxuries in life. The Skeeter was one of them.

  In the driving rain, he ran the few feet to the back door, and still he was soaked when he stepped into the kitchen.

  “Going to be a record-setter.” His father nodded toward the small television on the kitchen counter. The sound was muted, but the weatherman’s charts needed no explanation—rain, rain, and more rain.

  “Thanks.” Travis accepted the mug of steaming coffee and sat down at the table. “Ever seen a storm like this one?”

  “When you were a kid.”

  “We had moved your bedroom to the back patio because your little sister was due in November.” His mom pulled a large pan of fresh cookies from the oven. Their sweet scent filled the kitchen.

  “I remember. One day I had a bedroom, the next I didn’t.” Travis crossed his ankles and settled in for the story.

  “You loved the patio.” His dad laughed. “By late October when we closed it in and made it a real room, all you did was complain.”

  “As long as it was a patio, I felt like I was camping.” Travis fell back into the memory—a time when he had no obligations, no children depending on him and his judgments.

  “The rain that year came up over the back steps.” His dad reached for the cookies, but his mother passed the plate to Travis.

  “These cookies are for church. You can eat the bowl of fruit that I cut up for you.”

  “It flooded my room,” Travis said, attempting to get his father’s attention off the sweets.

  “You ran into the house like the hounds of hell had lit out after you.”

  “I thought they had. I’d turned six that summer. Dreamed I’d fallen into a lake and couldn’t swim, then woke up to a lapping sound.” Travis stared out the window at the sheets of falling rain. “Strange how I can remember the fear of that nightmare after all these years.”

  “Some dreams grip you that way.” His mom sat down at the table and studied the television as if she could change what she was seeing there. “This will be a strain on folks. Anyone you need to check on?”

  “No.” Travis patted his shirt pocket. “All my cases have my cell phone number.”

  “I didn’t ask about your cases.” His mom’s voice was soft, but the reprimand was there nonetheless. “I asked about the people you’re looking after.”

  Travis met his dad’s eyes. Neither dared smile for fear of a slap on the back of the head, but an understanding passed between them. “I hear you
, Mom. I’m not their pastor though. I’m their caseworker.”

  He pushed his chair back and kissed her cheek. “You two sure you’ll be all right here?”

  “Snug as two owls in a tree,” his dad declared. Walking him to the back door, he placed a hand on his back. “Which one you worried about?”

  Travis froze, one arm in his jacket. “Why?”

  “You didn’t touch the cookies—a sure sign you’re worried. Don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  Sighing, he finished slipping his jacket on and picked up his keys from the countertop. “Erin Jacobs. She lives out of town, alone. All those animals to tend to, and now she has an infant.”

  His dad nodded and stood beside him, studying the rain. “Should you go and check on her?”

  “She’ll call if she needs me.”

  Travis hugged his father and stepped out into the rising waters.

  —

  Sunday morning dawned dark. The rain continued to fall in sheets, and Erin had trouble remembering why she needed to push her way out from the shelter of her covers.

  Then Joshua’s cries broke through the last of her dream fog. As awareness splashed over her, she struggled to fight her way free of the mass of quilts. They felt like hundred pound weights. Before she managed to sit completely up, a hacking cough seized her and threatened to throw her back into bed.

  Joshua’s cries escalated from the “I’m-hungry-alarm” she’d become accustomed to into sobs. Erin stared at the baby monitor as if it could offer answers before stumbling toward the hall.

  The room seemed to tilt, rocked back and forth like the deck of a ship, then finally righted itself.

  Holding tight to her doorframe, she wiped the sweat from her forehead, grabbed her robe from the chair, and hurried toward the nursery.

  He quieted the minute she peeped over his crib. Tears still gleamed on his cheeks, but he popped a toe into his mouth and smiled.

  “Hey, baby boy. You okay?”

  For his answer, he giggled, exchanged one foot for the other, then reached for her nose.

  “I suppose if I’m contagious you’ve already been exposed. But I hope you don’t catch this, Josh. I would be a bad, bad mommy to give you this virus, darling.” It was the first time she’d used the word mommy, but it felt sweet on her tongue. Somehow it eased the aches tormenting her body.