Protected (Jacobs Family Series Book 2)

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Thought I’d break it. Didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” The tears became a flood. She folded her arms across her middle, grasped her elbows to still the shivers coursing through her body. Any moment now she would literally fly apart in front of him, and she had no idea why.

  “Hey. Don’t do that. Erin, it’s okay.” He moved beside her on the couch. “Sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

  He clumsily patted her back with one hand, while searching in his pocket for a handkerchief with the other.

  “Never mind. I’m fine. It’s like I’m this faucet with no off valve. You’re going to think I’m too emo… emo… emotional to be a mother.” She brought the afghan up to her eyes and rubbed, which only succeeded in making them itch and burn.

  “Hang on. Just—” Travis jumped up from the couch, grabbed a box of tissues from the table near the rocker, and shoved it onto her lap. Instead of returning to the rocker, he sat back down again beside her on the couch. “Mom said you had a pretty good day.”

  “I did,” Erin admitted, pulling out several tissues and blowing her nose.

  “So why the tears?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” She paused, wondering if she should tell him about the mosaic, about her prayers, but when she searched her mind for words to express what had occurred earlier she came up blank.

  “Are the lights bothering you? You keep squinting, and your eyes are really puffy. Would it help if I turned one or two off?”

  She nodded, knowing that was only half the truth. She had trouble talking to Travis when every time she looked into his china-blue eyes her heart tripped a double beat. She needed to settle her emotions, wanted to clarify things, and it was hard to do when she had to meet his gaze.

  The truth was she was a coward.

  Travis walked around the porch, turning off lamps until just the one behind them remained lit. The softer light soothed her. She could look out over the backyard and make out the pine trees, even see an occasional bird swoop down in the near darkness. She took a deep, trembling breath and started over as Travis settled again beside her.

  “I had a wonderful day. Your parents have been more than kind to me. Your mother helped me to work through some… important things today.”

  “If my mom made you cry, I’m going to have to go in and talk with her.”

  She reached out and slapped at him. “No, silly.”

  Travis captured her hand in his and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “Good. I know you’ve been through a lot in the last forty-eight hours. I wanted this to be a time for you to recharge.”

  Erin tried to swallow, failed, and tried again. She felt as if a tennis ball were lodged in her throat. She had the wild urge to snatch her hand away, and at the same time she hoped he would keep holding on to it forever.

  “Your mother came out and handed me this afghan—a blanket she had knitted with her own hands.” She looked him fully in the face then, hoping he would read there the words that were too painful for her to voice.

  “Sometimes it’s the little kindness that works its way through our defenses.”

  Erin nodded and stared down at his hand covering hers. Did he have any idea what effect his touch had on her?

  “I feel raw inside and out.” She swallowed around the tennis ball, forcing the words out while she had the courage. “Two weeks ago my life made sense. I can see now that was because I kept it very simple, completely closed. I put myself on an ARK—literally.”

  —

  Erin paused, pulled her bottom lip in and worried it. Travis knew they were at a breakthrough moment. He certainly didn’t want to push, but he had prayed so hard she would accept God’s help in her life.

  Seeing her struggle like this, it reminded him of the time he’d kept a baby bird in his room under a heat lamp. He’d watched it fight its way through the tiny shell. Only nine years old, he’d run to the kitchen for a spoon to crack the shell and help the fella, but his father had stopped him and told him he’d be weakening the bird.

  So he waited and watched Erin struggle.

  It nearly broke his heart.

  “Then I received the call from Joshua’s mother. I didn’t realize God was telling me it was time to join the world again.” She looked at him and smiled. Tears still shone in her eyes, but they didn’t spill. Glancing back out into the night, she continued, her voice filled with wonder. “I was so afraid driving through the forest to find him. I didn’t tell you that before. It was as if I had this premonition something big was about to happen, and maybe it was my last chance to turn around.”

  She turned her full attention to him and clasped her other hand on top of his so he had trouble concentrating on her words. “What if I had turned around? What would have happened to Joshua?”

  “I don’t know, Erin.” He reached out, touched her face though he knew he shouldn’t. “God has plans we can’t know. He was watching over Josh.”

  She nodded and another tear slipped down her face. He wiped it away with his thumb, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was still on the back porch of the hunter’s cabin. Still considering what might have been.

  “Once I saw him, held him, I knew my life would never be the same, and I was terrified. I wasn’t ready, and part of me wanted to hide. Do you know what I mean?” She turned her pleading gaze on him, and Travis had to focus to breathe.

  He nodded and ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

  He knew all about hiding from God.

  It hadn’t worked for him either.

  “When you came along—”

  “Was that a bad thing?” He wanted to snatch the question back as soon as he asked it.

  “I don’t know.” Her hand—the one he hadn’t claimed—went to her lips, her throat, then finally settled on her lap. “If you hadn’t come to the house and found me after the flood—”

  “I would have found you.” The image of her still form curled around Joshua in the bed continued to rob him of sleep.

  The silence stretched between them until he didn’t trust himself any longer. The need to pull her into his arms again nearly overpowered his common sense.

  He stood and walked to the windows.

  “I know you’ve been right about so many things you said to me. Spending the day here with your mom, talking with her about Nina and Jules, it’s helped me to see they wouldn’t want me living such a solitary life. I’m going to try and do things differently—because I need to in order for you to approve Joshua’s placement, but also because I think it’s what God wants me to do.”

  He turned and stared at her. The single remaining light haloed her hair, which was tousled from running her hands through it as she’d told her story. She’d pulled the afghan around her to ward off the night’s chill, and it gave her the appearance of a child huddled there on his mother’s couch. But he knew Erin Jacobs was no child. The circles under her eyes and the steadiness in her gaze combined to assure him how seriously she’d considered every word she had just said.

  “You’ve had some major changes.”

  “Yes. I have.”

  The need to be near her overwhelmed him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, took a step back, and bumped into the window frames.

  “There’s one more thing though.” She continued to hold his gaze, but he could see her cheeks color even from across the room.

  Suddenly, Travis had the irrational urge to cover his ears.

  “I want to apologize about yesterday.”

  “Erin, don’t—”

  “No. I’ll never be able to look at you again if I don’t say this. I acted like a child, throwing myself in your arms. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry—”

  He never heard the rest of her apology. He crossed the room before she had a chance to finish, pulled her into his arms, and covered her lips with his own.

  She uttered a small gasp and he pulled back, but then her arms curled up and around his neck.

  So he ducked his head, and kissed her
again—first gently, then thoroughly. Kissed her like he’d wanted to since he’d first learned there was no Mr. Jacobs. Some part of his mind suspected it would be their last kiss so he made it count.

  He finally stopped when he felt the flutter of her heart against his own. Realizing she wasn’t fully recovered, he forced himself to break the kiss, but he couldn’t let her go—not yet.

  Pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered, “Don’t ever apologize for needing me. That’s the one thing I can’t deal with. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. No.” Her arms remained entwined around his neck, and Travis felt as if he’d melted into the couch, into Erin.

  He cradled her in his arms, pulled the afghan around her shoulders, and vowed to himself he would enjoy this one moment, then come to his senses.

  Like the morning before, she fit next to him perfectly. “You smell like heaven,” he murmured.

  “That’s just your mother’s shampoo.”

  “Never smelled that way on my mother.”

  Erin sighed and snuggled deeper into him.

  He kissed the top of her head, ran his fingers through her hair, down her arm. Felt her shiver, and delighted in the knowledge his touch had as much an effect on her as she did on him.

  Her hand reached up, touched his face, his lips.

  “I didn’t think I could feel this way about anyone.”

  “Erin—”

  “No. Let me say this.” She slipped her hand back around his waist. “I saw the kind of relationship Jules and Nina had, and I was afraid I could never have anything as true, as special as what they shared. I was afraid to even try.” Her voice tapered off to a whisper as she peered up at him in the dim light.

  “Sweetheart.” Travis ran a thumb down her face and prayed God would forgive him for what he was about to say. “I meant what I said earlier—you never have to apologize for needing me. I will always be there for you. Tell me you understand that.”

  She smiled up at him, completely trusting, and he wished it could be his own heart he was about to shred—which in one sense it was.

  “Erin, we can’t do this again. I initially asked to be transferred off your case, because I didn’t feel I could be objective. My director refused the request.” Confusion clouded Erin’s face and she attempted to pull away, but he tugged her closer. “Listen. I care about you. I care about you like this, not like a caseworker should care about a client.”

  He kissed her again, briefly, softly—softer than the brush of a bird’s wings in flight.

  “Since I have to stay on as your caseworker, we need to put this away from us for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know. Adoptions take a long time. You’ve seen the process chart.”

  Erin stood, the afghan falling away, and stepped back from the couch. “What are you saying, Travis?”

  He stood as well and clenched his hands at his side to keep from reaching out to her. “I’m saying we have to put Joshua first.”

  “But what about—”

  “What about us? We’re not as important, our needs aren’t as important as his. You know that. You can’t be that selfish.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth.

  She turned and stumbled back toward the door. He stopped her. She looked down at his hand on her arm and pulled back from his touch.

  “Wait, Erin.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t. Don’t go this way.”

  “Why did you kiss me? Why did you allow me to feel safe?” Her words found their mark in his chest.

  “Because I wanted you to know you weren’t imagining this attraction between us. Because I needed to know if you felt the same things I did. Because I’m not perfect, Erin.”

  She paused, slowed by his honesty.

  “And I meant it when I said I will be there for you and Joshua. Whatever you need.”

  “But not this…” she stared at a spot past his shoulder.

  “Erin, I can’t.”

  She met his eyes for one brief moment, then turned and fled.

  Twenty-Eight

  Travis added an extra mile to his run the next morning.

  It did nothing to alleviate the restlessness crawling on his skin.

  Thirty minutes of Bible study with his coffee convinced him running from his problems—and mistakes—would only complicate them.

  He called into the office and left Angela a message that he would be in after he made his first client call. Then he drove directly to his mother’s. He pulled into the driveway at ten minutes until eight in time to see Erin loading her things into Shirley Smith’s car.

  “What are you doing?” He fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back inside.

  “I’m taking Joshua home.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little soon? Two days ago you were in the hospital.”

  “I know where I was, Travis. I also know where we need to be right now—and it’s at the ARK.” She still hadn’t looked at him, had busied herself fumbling with the keys and hauling the bag into the car’s rear seat. “I’m much better. I have my strength back, and I need to start taking care of things again.”

  “You can barely manage your own overnight bag,” he said tightly, pulling Joshua’s bag from her hand and setting it in the back seat of Shirley’s car. “Why didn’t you call me? If you decided you had to leave, I would have taken you home.”

  “Shirley was more than happy to help.” Erin moved the bag from the seat to the floorboard. She paused beside the car and cocked her head, finally meeting his gaze. “I’m re-establishing my social network, Travis. I thought you’d be pleased.”

  He searched his mind for a reply, but he couldn’t think straight with her standing so close. She’d done something different with her hair, pulling the curls back in clips. It made her look schoolgirl fresh—and all too beautiful. He wanted to pull the clips from her hair and run his fingers through her auburn curls, loosen them and feel their silkiness like he had the night before.

  He slammed the car door shut and scowled at her instead.

  “Glad to see you slept well,” he muttered. “You are better, Erin, but if you do too much too soon, you’ll be in the same condition I found you.”

  Her smile slid from her face for a fraction of a second. She stepped toward him, her eyes filled with battle.

  His adrenaline surged like when a fast ball came his way and he pulled the bat in tight, knowing he could knock it out of the park.

  But then the front door opened. Erin stepped back and turned toward his parents. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, forcing his heart rate to slow.

  “Travis, I didn’t hear you pull up.” His dad carried the last of Erin’s bags out ahead of the women.

  The next five minutes would have looked to any stranger like an ordinary confusion of good-byes. His mother made a fuss over Joshua as Erin tucked him safely into his car seat. His dad clumsily hugged her and exacted a promise that she would return for dinner before Joshua forgot who they were. No one would have believed they had met less than forty-eight hours ago.

  Travis pretended to check Joshua’s car seat. It had been two days since he’d held the boy. He wouldn’t have thought it possible he could miss a child so much. At this point all Josh did was drink a bottle and poop.

  Plugging the baby pacifier into Josh’s mouth, he was certain the kid smiled at him. It eased the ball of tension inside his stomach, and he found himself smiling back. Who could not have their mood elevated around Joshua? The kid was like a bit of God’s sunshine wrapped in an infant’s playsuit.

  The good-byes were grinding to an end, so Travis snagged Shirley’s arm.

  “I haven’t seen you at any of our church outings lately, Travis.”

  “Yeah. Saturdays have been crazy.”

  “Still working on weekends?” She smiled up at him as he walked her to the driver’s side of the car.

  “Guilty. Hey, I’d be glad to take them home.” He hel
d the car door open for her, trying not to stare at her protruding belly.

  “It’s no problem. I’m already here, and it’ll give us time to chat.” With her hand on her stomach, she sat in the driver’s seat sideways, then turned and slid in awkwardly behind the wheel.

  “When’s the baby due?” he asked.

  “Six weeks, and I won’t argue if he comes early.”

  “Another boy?”

  “Yes, baby will make three little guys and one big one, at which point I call a stop to the team building.” She smiled and waved as he shut the door.

  Travis was used to being around adoptive parents, foster parents, or parents who for some reason were having difficulties with their families. Seeing Shirley’s obvious delight, even as she struggled with a simple thing like fitting behind a steering wheel, tore at his heart like the too bright day.

  It struck him that he was glimpsing something intimate, but then he realized he was only seeing a slice of normal life.

  Perhaps he was working too much.

  He stayed at the curb, watching Shirley start the car, then remembered he hadn’t told Erin about tonight. He jogged over to her side, motioned for her to roll the window down, and prepared for the argument sure to follow.

  “James and I will be out around six.” She looked at him blankly, but didn’t attack, so he kept going. “To take care of the animals.”

  “There’s no need. I’m sure I can handle—”

  “He’s out of the office all day, and his cell’s busted. I couldn’t possibly catch him and cancel. Six.”

  He tapped the car’s roof twice, stepped back, and he might have laughed at the adorable look of irritation on Erin’s face—except underneath it all was the heartache he’d brought on by kissing her the night before.

  He felt it, and he knew she did too. It was something they’d need to talk about, set straight. Maybe they’d have a chance after James left.

  Travis only hoped he’d find a way to make it right.

  —

  Shirley raised her eyebrows, but kept her gaze fixed on the road. Erin knew her friend would give her a minute, maybe two, to spill.