Protected (Jacobs Family Series Book 2)

by Vannetta Chapman

  “I should be there. I haven’t even met my nephew. He sounds like a child genius.”

  “You should wait.” Erin gripped her cell phone. “Wait until the hearing. I’ll need you more then.”

  “I have quite a bit of vacation time saved up you know.”

  “And you just took off for six weeks. I imagine your staff would like to see you. Not to mention you hate being away from that office, which is why you have so much saved.”

  Dana laughed again, and Erin was struck by how different her sister sounded, how much lighter. Is that how love was supposed to make you feel?

  Silence stretched between them as she tried to think of how to broach the subject of her troubled heart.

  “What’s wrong? It’s not Josh—”

  “No.” Erin walked out on the front porch and sat with her back against the house. A little of the day’s warmth remained, and it comforted her in some way, knowing the sun had been faithful to shine on her home, and it would do so again tomorrow. Even if she didn’t understand the path her life was taking.

  “Front porch or back?” Dana asked.

  “Front.” Erin smiled, placing her palm flat against the porch floor’s oak boards.

  “Screen door still squeaks.”

  “I keep meaning to oil it.”

  “Screen doors are supposed to squeak a little. You always did think better outside.”

  “Maybe I should try camping then.”

  “Or you could sleep in the barn.”

  “Josh likes his crib.” She smiled and loosened her grip on the phone.

  “I can take the red-eye out of here.” Dana’s voice settled somewhere between big sis and director of the local Homeland Security office. It was one thing Erin loved about her—the ability to be loving and in charge. “We’ll work this out, whatever this is. Spoil my nephew a bit, then go down to Stella’s for some world-class pie.”

  “I think I needed to hear your confidence. I feel as if my life has become a labyrinth, with no exit and a very confusing pattern.”

  “If your life is a labyrinth, it’s a holy one designed by God. You can bet there’s purpose and loving care designed in every step.”

  Erin reached over to a pot of orange chrysanthemums sitting by the front door and began to pluck off dead blooms as they talked. “I forgot you’d found religion.”

  “Nope. I found the Lord.” Dana snorted. “Not that He was lost. I’d just been ignoring him for quite a few years.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been fairly good at that myself. Did I tell you I went to church on Sunday?”

  “You did not! Ben will be so excited. We’ve been praying for you.”

  Erin didn’t know what to say, so she turned the plant and continued tending to it by the light of the living room window.

  “Was church your social worker’s idea?”

  “Travis. Yes and no. Maybe it was. Actually, when I was staying at his parents’ home there was this mosaic on the wall—did I tell you about it?”

  “No. You told me you were ill and stayed with them two nights.”

  Erin spilled it all, from the moment she’d awakened in Barbara’s house, feeling grace splash over her like a refreshing shower, to this evening’s parting. When she was done she felt spent, but immeasurably better.

  “You’re dealing with a lot right now, Erin.”

  “I thought perhaps I was being childish, overreacting.”

  “Not at all. A girl wants love to be simple, beautiful—flowers that show up on your doorstep inexplicably and a walk on Saturday afternoon.” A screen door shut, and Erin knew Dana was walking out on her own back porch, looking out over the mountains surrounding Taos.

  “Doesn’t work that way.” Erin’s voice was a whisper.

  “No. At least not for the Jacobs women.”

  “It wasn’t easy for you and Ben either, not at the beginning.”

  “I didn’t think it would be possible, so I pushed down my feelings for him. I didn’t believe I deserved someone as kind as Ben, as loving.” Dana paused and seemed to stumble over the memories of the past year. “I almost threw away the love God intended for me. I wouldn’t want to see you make the same mistake.”

  “How do I know though? I do love Travis, but this hurts, Dana. I don’t think it’s supposed to be this way. Are relationships supposed to make your heart ache?”

  “Maybe not, but some things worth having are worth waiting for. I think you were right to set some boundaries because you need them to make it through this time. Now trust that God will be faithful to have a perfect plan for your life. And believe Travis will do his part.”

  “I don’t know how to have that kind of faith.”

  “Pray, and get up each day believing God cares for you. He does. He cares for you as much as he cares for Joshua. As much as I care for you both.”

  Erin laughed, but it felt ragged like the rough edges of a board where the paint had worn away. “It’s hard to believe God has time to care in such a personal way. I know what happened at Barbara’s was real, but what you and I share… what family has… that’s different.

  “It’s not.”

  “It is.” She searched in her mind for proof, but shied away from the obvious memory they both avoided. “You ate my broccoli for me.”

  “True. I had selfish reasons though. I didn’t want you to have to sit at the dinner table all night.”

  “Nina finally caught on to the fact I’d eat it raw.” The memory of her foster mother no longer hurt, and that was a blessing.

  “The thing is, and I’m new at this, too, but I think God is willing to eat our broccoli for us. I think He cares that much. So you can trust him with tomorrow.”

  Erin studied the potted flower, noticing the places where new blooms were waiting for the sun to touch them.

  “Kiss Ben for me.”

  “You know I will. You’re going to love this present he brought you from the Caribbean. It’s—”

  “Don’t tell me. I could use a surprise to look forward to.”

  “All right, but remember I tried to warn you.”

  They said their good-byes and promised to call again soon.

  Erin walked inside, tidied the house, and peeked in on Josh.

  Standing over his crib, she thought of all that had happened in the five weeks since her phone rang, sending her on a mission into the forest.

  She had so many questions. Why had his mother abandoned him? Why did Tara DeLoach call the ARK?

  She reached out and touched his face puckered in sleep. He was a precious child. She couldn’t imagine a thing in the world that would cause her to walk away from him—no threat, no enticement, no love.

  Her heart could break, then break again, but she was a grown woman. She would never put her needs before his.

  This was a child like she had been that dark night nearly twenty years ago. Dana didn’t think she could remember. She said two years old was too young to have memories, especially of something so traumatic.

  But she did remember.

  Dana picking her up. Dropping her tattered bear. Dana running with her into the forest. The smell of her father. The smell of fear.

  Wanting her mother and crying.

  Perhaps she remembered that most of all.

  She had seen her father looming in the darkness before Dana had. Had seen him as Dana had sat her beside the old pine tree and told her to wait quietly.

  She still remembered the look on his face, the threats, and the way Dana had stood up to him to protect her baby sister.

  The dreams had stopped when she was twelve. She’d found the place in the forest, taken the bear there, and left it. Dana had thought she’d lost the stuffed animal, and she let her sister believe that. What she’d left there was any hope her life would knit itself back together.

  From that moment she’d never looked back. She’d accepted Nina and Jules were her parents, her mother was dead, and her father was never coming back—to harm her or to love her. She’d moved on
with her life.

  She’d been back to the forest many times since—maybe not their particular road, though she knew where it was. The place held no power over her, because the child she had been no longer existed.

  Erin reached down and tucked the light blanket around Joshua.

  It seemed now as if the child she had been and the adult she had become had somehow come together into a whole person, but the seams ached a bit.

  And where did Travis Williams fit into the picture?

  Driving to the hunter’s cabin had moved her life in an unexpected direction, and she was thankful for it because the turn had brought her Joshua. It had also brought her Travis. Her life had been simpler before, but plain—black and white.

  What would happen next?

  Dana was right. She’d have to trust God had planned that turn and the next. Trust it was for her best and for Joshua’s.

  And maybe she could even find the faith to believe what they were caught up in was the best thing for Travis Williams, which didn’t mean the weeks and months they had in front of them would be any easier to endure.

  Thirty-Seven

  Travis sat on the deck of his Yamaha Skeeter, rubbing a cloth along the already clean seats. Everything about the ski boat gleamed in the afternoon light, from the bright-blue leather seats to the metallic-blue and gray fiberglass hull. The tank was topped off with thirty gallons of fuel, and the two hundred horsepower engine sparkled. Even the small fridge was stocked with bottled water and sodas.

  Yes, his vessel was in top condition. Actually, it looked better than the day he’d bought it—probably because he’d spent the last three hours cleaning it instead of taking it out on the waters of Lake Livingston.

  And that was a mystery he admitted to himself as he sat back in the captain’s chair and studied the cove. Still plenty of daylight left, and plenty warm enough for the second Saturday in November. They were having an Indian summer of sorts, and he wouldn’t complain about it.

  He should take her for a spin and burn off some of this restlessness.

  Then his eye caught on the leaves of a Texas Red Oak turned a deep red by the autumn sun, a red the exact color of Erin’s hair.

  He stared at the tree and thought of pulling out his cell and calling her. What stopped him was the memory of the look in her eyes that night. He’d kept his distance since then as she’d asked—as she’d wanted—although it was killing him.

  For two weeks he’d given her the wide berth she’d asked of him.

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he popped the seal open and began to down it. The cold liquid did nothing to soothe the dull pain in his throat though.

  Disgusted, he picked up his rag and again rubbed the already polished railing. That’s when he heard a familiar footfall on the dock.

  “Dad. How are you?” Travis dropped the rag and met his dad on the ramp to the boat.

  Shaking his hand, then pulling him into a hug, his dad held up a brown sack larger than your typical lunch bag. “Your mother worries. She sent this over.”

  “Lunch?”

  “Sandwiches, tea, some homemade lemon pie, sugar free of course.”

  “Enough for two?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They sat in the back seats, spread the food out between them, and talked about football, his nephews, the approaching holidays—anything but what was burdening his heart.

  “Sorry I haven’t been by. Things have been crazy at the office.”

  “Figured as much. Man has to earn a living.”

  Travis stared out over the water, watching a Great Blue Heron take off. “Truth is I’m struggling with some personal things, so it helps to spend more time on the job and think about it less.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  Laughing at the directness of his dad’s question, he ran his hand over the crick in his neck. “Not so well. Not so very well.”

  His dad reached over and kneaded the muscle on his shoulder and neck. Travis suddenly remembered when he’d come home from baseball, hyped up, jazzed. Then the muscles in his shoulders and neck would begin to cool, start to lock up, and his dad would rub the soreness out like he was now. The memory made him smile, and the smile lifted a bit of his heaviness.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know, Dad. I’m not sure it would do any good.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The sun moved toward the horizon, bringing with it the usual restlessness that plagued him this time of evening. When had he stopped enjoying evenings on his boat? Seven weeks ago by his best calculation. Now the thought of calling the guys, getting together a fishing trip, held absolutely no appeal.

  He looked at his dad, thought of what his parents had shared for so long, and couldn’t help envying them.

  “Times were simpler when you met Mom.”

  His dad moved a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, seemed to consider the question seriously, and finally nodded in agreement. “Pretty much. Nixon was ordering troops to cross into Cambodia. That sparked the marches that led to the Kent State riots. Terrible tragedy, but simple I suppose.”

  “All right. I didn’t mean it was a perfect time. I know my history and 1970 was a bad year.” Travis sat forward and ran his hand through his hair. “I meant what you had with her—that was simple.”

  “I was shipped stateside because of a bullet I took in the leg—wouldn’t heal no matter what they tried. I didn’t want to come home. Didn’t want to leave my unit even though Nam was a terrible place, worse than what you read about it. But those men had become my family.”

  Travis watched the memories overtake his dad and wondered if he’d drop the subject as he so often did or continue.

  “I tried to talk Sarge out of sending me back, but there was no changing his mind when a doctor said go.” His dad laughed, the effort crinkling the skin around his blue eyes. “That’s how I met your mother though. Guess God used an enemy’s bullet for good.”

  He took out the toothpick and pointed it at Travis. “She was volunteering at the hospital over in Houston. Prettiest thing I’d seen in two years. You can bet your baseball cards on that.”

  “And you knew. The minute you met her.”

  “Well, I knew. Your mother now, she took some convincing.”

  “You were too ugly I imagine.”

  Dad laughed again. “She’d seen too many army grunts. One more wasn’t going to turn her head. No, I had to work on her real gentle like. Took some persistence.”

  He reached out and slapped Travis on the knee. “We Williams men know about persistence though. It’s what makes us good at so many things.”

  Travis shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

  His dad pointed at the bow of the boat. “Remember what condition this boat was in when you bought her? Had to have her towed to the dock. Look at her now. You could probably get top dollar.”

  “Wouldn’t take it though.”

  “Exactly my point. You had the patience to restore her, and now she’s a part of you. Same thing with a relationship.”

  Travis ran his hand along the seats and considered what his dad was trying to tell him. Finally, he shook his head. “Women are more complicated than boats.”

  “I agree with you there, but they’re considerably more valuable too.” His dad stood and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants.

  The move caught Travis off guard. It was like looking in a mirror. For a moment, he thought about how much his dad acted like him, then he realized it was the other way around. He had the disorienting feeling of looking through binoculars the wrong way. It made what his dad was saying all the harder to digest.

  “I’m going to make a leap here and assume we’re talking about Erin.”

  Travis stood, stuffed his own hands in his pockets, then feeling self-conscious yanked them back out and crossed them over his chest. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe.”

  “She’s a beautiful wom
an. If you have feelings for her, tell her so.”

  “Not that simple.” Travis began picking up their lunch debris and stuffed it all back into the sack. “I’m Erin’s caseworker. It’s a breach of my code of conduct to be personally involved with her.”

  “I see. Yet God put Erin in your path for a reason and gave you these feelings for a reason. We know things happen by design, not accident. Have you talked to your boss?”

  Travis felt the sandwich churn in his stomach as the memory of the lie he’d told Erin mixed with the chicken salad. “I told Erin I had. I tried to—twice—but Director Moring brushed me off both times.”

  When his dad didn’t comment, Travis blurted out the rest of his fears. “I’ve compromised myself professionally, lied to Erin, and now I may have pushed her away.”

  “That’s a lot of guilt to carry. No wonder you’re staying on your boat.” His father’s voice was gentle.

  When Travis finally met his gaze, all he saw was compassion in his dad’s eyes.

  “I shouldn’t have lied to Erin. Should have admitted I couldn’t get Director Moring to hear me out, but I don’t think Erin realizes what a conflict this could be.”

  “Erin seems fairly intelligent.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “So she probably would understand the situation if you explained it to her.”

  “Dad, I—” Travis walked to the edge of the boat and peered out over the water. “When I’m around her, I can’t control my emotions very well. That’s not like me. I know how I should act, but then I do things I would normally never do. I tell myself I’m going to stay away from her, then I make up reasons to visit. I’m acting like a seventeen-year-old kid instead of a grown adult.”

  For the first time since he’d blurted out his confession, his dad grinned, and that eased even more of the knot tied around Travis’s heart. “You sound to me like a man in love.”

  “Because I do stupid things?”

  “Love sometimes causes us to do different things than we would normally do. After I was released from the hospital in Houston, I was supposed to move to Ft. Worth. Had a good job waiting there for me. Called them the day I was supposed to show up and told them I wasn’t coming. Had no job, no place to stay. Just my VA check coming, which wasn’t much.”