Protected (Jacobs Family Series Book 2)

by Vannetta Chapman

  Unable to sit in the chair a moment longer, she stood and walked to the large, plate glass window. The rain had finally started in earnest. It had threatened all day—pressure building in the air, thunder rumbling across the sky, an occasional spatter. All afternoon she had expected to be drenched, but the big showers had held off.

  Now the rain fell in sheets. She could only see out the window by pressing her nose against it. The heaviness that had plagued the area had eased though, and perhaps that was why Daniel had chosen to make his appearance a week early.

  She didn’t mind enduring a storm if it brought Daniel into their midst.

  “Why the smile?” Russ asked.

  She turned, studied his short hair, open face, and kind eyes. He reminded her of the younger brother she’d never had. “I didn’t hear you walk up. Lose the game?”

  “Not likely. Girls wanted a stretch break.” He slipped his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. “It’s good to see you smile. I was worried about you at the movies. You seemed tired.”

  “I was,” she admitted. “My animals were stirred up this afternoon. Probably because of this storm.”

  He stared out the window for a minute, obviously not looking at anything beyond the pane of glass. “I need to say something, Erin. It might not be the right time, but I’d feel better putting it out there.”

  He glanced around the waiting room, then turned back to her. “I can see how things are with you and Williams.”

  “Russ—”

  “A guy can tell, and it’s okay. I might give him a hard time, but Travis is all right. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t do what I’m doing right now.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m telling you I understand, and your friendship is important to me. I haven’t known you long, but you’re a special lady. Any blockhead can see that. So don’t feel awkward around me, and don’t avoid me.”

  “Of course, I won’t.” Erin had an overwhelming desire to reach out and rub the top of his crew cut.

  “Good.” He held out a hand for her to shake, but then laughed and pulled her into a hug.

  Travis found them that way. He had just walked up when the nurse stepped into the waiting room.

  “Anyone here with the Smith party?”

  Eleven people said “yes” at once.

  The nurse blinked, consulted her clip board, then announced, “Mom and baby are doing fine. We have a healthy, eight-pound boy.”

  The rest of what she said was lost in the sea of cheers. Erin wouldn’t have heard it anyway. She was too busy trying to fathom the look of pure joy on Travis’s face and the way his eyes sought hers.

  There was something there, something he was trying to tell her, and it wasn’t about the Smith baby.

  Forty-One

  Monday afternoon Erin stood beside Travis and stared up at Judge Boultinghouse. Her terror was so great she was sure her legs would not support her.

  “Steady,” Travis whispered.

  The judge’s gavel sent a dread through her bones equal to what she’d felt when she’d received Travis’s phone call that morning.

  How could things have gone so wrong so quickly?

  Glancing over at the table for opposing counsel, she suppressed a shudder. Her worst nightmare couldn’t have conjured up the pair.

  “Mr. Hammett, I have your motion here filed on behalf of Mr. Pitcher.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Several things about this motion bother me, Mr. Hammett.”

  “Certainly not our intent, Your Honor.”

  “First and foremost, I’d like to know why your client has not attempted to contact this child since his birth, most especially since the death of Tara DeLoach—”

  “I can explain.” Derrick Pitcher attempted to step forward around the table, but his lawyer put out a restraining arm and stopped him.

  Pitcher was dressed in khaki pants, a button-down shirt, and matching tie. The new clothes accentuated his bronzed skin, as did his recent haircut, which left a good half inch of paler skin between his tanned face and blond curls, curls that had Erin’s stomach turning flips.

  “I haven’t asked you to explain yet, Mr. Pitcher.” Judge Boultinghouse peered over her glasses at him. Her face was set in a grim line, her expression one of the few things offering Erin any measure of peace this afternoon.

  The judge was no happier than Erin with this turn of events.

  “One might expect a concerned father to immediately seek out his child after the death of said child’s mother. We know Mr. Pitcher was aware of Tara DeLoach’s death since you have conveniently provided us with the police report stating Mr. Pitcher was present at the time.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Erin saw Pitcher flinch. She began to fervently pray Joshua would not spend any time with this man.

  He might not live with me, Lord. But please, do not let him go with this man.

  “Secondly, I would like to know why now, eight weeks after Joshua’s mother was declared deceased, your client has decided to show up and petition this court for custody rights, something he relinquished over eight months ago—another document you kindly supplied to this court.”

  The judge removed her glasses and sat back in her chair. “Well, go ahead. Explain why you’d expect to have any rights before this court.”

  “Yes, Your Honor—” Mr. Hammett straightened his tie, but stopped speaking when he noticed the judge shaking her head.

  “Not you.” She pointed with her glasses at Pitcher. “You.”

  The man bobbed his head like a kid listening to rock music. “Good questions, and I’m glad you asked them. About Tara, now that was an accident, Judge. The detective said so. I felt real bad about what happened, but we’d been divorced for some time. I was surprised she even came by to see me that day.”

  Pitcher glanced at his attorney as if to see how he was doing. The attorney refused to meet his gaze and busied himself studying the folder on the table in front of him. “And I would have come to check on the kid—er, little Joshua—but Tara told me she’d adopted him out. I didn’t know he was still in the state until I saw it on the television.”

  “You mean until you heard about the money.”

  Pitcher reddened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Then I did try to get here as fast as I could, but I had to put my affairs in order. I wanted to be able to stay in Livingston as long as this takes.”

  He offered no more explanation.

  As Judge Boultinghouse studied him, Erin listened to the seconds tick on the large clock at the back of the room.

  Listened to her and Josh’s life hang in the balance.

  Finally, the judge put her glasses back on and sat up straighter in her chair.

  Erin felt Travis stiffen beside her.

  “I am not approving your motion to postpone the ruling on Joshua’s placement. We will go ahead with the hearing date two weeks from Wednesday. Between now and then I’m authorizing supervised visits once a week with Mr. Williams.”

  Erin heard the words and felt them slice through her like a knife.

  Travis’s hand closed around her arm and somehow she remained standing.

  “As to your parental claims, I’ll review those during the intervening time. Mr. Williams, I’ll need this strange turn of events to be reflected in your final report.”

  “Of course, Judge.”

  “That’s all.”

  The gavel sounded again, but Erin barely heard it this time. She needed to be at Evelyn’s, to hold Joshua this minute and every minute she could.

  How many minutes were there in two weeks?

  Turning to leave, her eyes caught the gaze of Derrick Pitcher and a shiver danced down her spine. A smile split his face, and he nodded her way.

  Didn’t he realize he was tearing her world apart?

  Somehow she made it out the door, down the steps, and across the street. Travis pulled her into the diner at the corner. After the waitress poured two cups of coffee, he shov
ed one into her hands.

  —

  “Give us two pieces of chocolate pie, Sally.”

  When the waitress had left, he reached across the table and covered Erin’s hands with his own. They were ice cold.

  “Drink the coffee, Erin.”

  She raised her eyes to his, those beautiful brown eyes, swimming in tears.

  “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I have faith.”

  Erin’s reply was so quiet, he had to lean forward. “I do too.”

  They sat without talking until the waitress returned with two large pieces of chocolate pie and an expression that said she knew who Erin was.

  “I know you have faith, and I can assure you the judge was not happy with those two. I can promise you that.” Travis leaned back and studied his pie. “I’ve been in Boultinghouse’s court for five years. When she takes that look and tone, watch out.”

  Picking up her fork, Erin stabbed at her pie, but didn’t eat it. “Travis, she said he could see Joshua.”

  “With me. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Erin, this is like a seventh-inning stretch.”

  She looked up at him, confusion clouding her expression. It was an improvement over the tears.

  “Sometimes, in the seventh inning, strange things happen. Things you’d never expect at the beginning of a game. You keep your head in the game, stay focused, and trust your coach.”

  Erin smacked him with her fork.

  “Ouch!”

  “This isn’t a baseball game. We’re talking about Joshua.” She took a bite of pie, then washed it down with a gulp of coffee. “Pitcher does not deserve that child. He abandoned his own baby—if Joshua is his baby. And who knows how Tara really died.”

  Each phrase was punctuated with another stab into the pie, which somehow disappeared as she laid out her argument.

  “Tara DeLoach was terrified when she called me. Of course, Pitcher knew she was coming to see him. There was a reason she didn’t take Joshua with her—a reason she kept that sweet baby away from that despicable man. And now he wants custody? After all this time and after Mrs. DeLoach has left the bulk of her estate to Josh? Ha! Some coincidence.”

  Travis sat back in the booth. Could God have given him a more beautiful woman?

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “I was just thinking that with Judge Boultinghouse being an intelligent woman—like you—she’ll probably come to the same conclusion.”

  Forty-Two

  Erin drove steadily toward the ARK, barely seeing the road out of Livingston. As so often happened over the last two weeks, her mind wandered past what she was seeing. This time she was back in the hospital, back to the night when Daniel had been born.

  She still didn’t know what Travis had wanted to say to her. The evening had turned into a crazy blend of celebration, prayer, and mad dashes to the gift shop to purchase balloons, flowers, and teddy bears.

  Looking out her windshield, she barely saw the passing trees. Instead, she saw Travis standing at the nursery window, a look of wonder blanketing his face.

  Travis searching for her, a promise in his eyes.

  Travis.

  Everywhere she looked these days she saw Travis.

  He’d been in the courtroom that terrible Monday afternoon.

  Twice he’d picked up Joshua and taken him to Pitcher, taking a slice of her heart with him.

  Both times he’d safely brought Joshua back to her.

  He’d been at each Sunday morning worship service, and, of course, her final home visit.

  Each time he’d been open, pleasant, careful to stand or sit near her, and acted for all the world like a man on the verge of something big.

  What though? He treated her as if she were made of precious glass, but he didn’t call except to confirm the hearing date was this coming Wednesday.

  She released the wheel and wiped her hands against her jeans.

  Each time she picked up Joshua, held him close, she was reminded that his future rested in someone else’s hands.

  Correction, his future rested in God’s hands. The truth hit with the strength of a kick from the mare she’d owned as a teen.

  Joshua’s future rested in God’s hands.

  Her future rested in God’s hands.

  And she could trust in God’s grace.

  She relaxed her hands on the wheel, forcing deep breaths into her lungs. Reached for the radio to turn up the music. She’d be back at the ARK in fifteen minutes. Joshua had been with her teenage sitter all afternoon, and she was ready to spend some time with him. Maybe she could get there in time to play with him in the backyard before complete darkness fell.

  Looking out the side window to judge whether she could beat the sunset, she noticed a glow in the eastern sky and thought for a moment she’d managed to turn herself around.

  But no, she hadn’t.

  The glow came from Cameron’s farm.

  Her heart tripped into an adrenaline fueled rhythm even as she pushed the old truck to its top speed, which wasn’t so terribly fast. Hopefully, it would be fast enough.

  Cameron owned a horse stable.

  Had anyone taken the animals out?

  She pulled her bag across the cab seat, fished her phone from it, and dialed the emergency number.

  “Livingston Police Department. State the nature of your emergency, please.”

  “Alice, this is Erin. I’m on County Road 351, and I’m seeing fire to the east. Looks like it’s coming from Cameron’s place.”

  “Roger that, Erin. We have fire and rescue dispatched to the scene.”

  “Has he released his horses?”

  “Cameron didn’t call it in. My log shows a neighbor noticed the flames.”

  “My ETA is four minutes. Would you tell whoever’s on scene that I want access to those corrals?”

  “I’ll pass it on.”

  “Thank you.”

  Erin was about to disconnect when she realized Alice was still talking. “Be careful, Erin. The chatter is that fire is especially hot. Lots of fertilizer stored in the barn.”

  “Got it.”

  She disconnected. Tossed the phone into her bag and rounded the corner to Cameron’s place.

  The scene that greeted her was straight out of hell.

  Erin thought of Joshua and all he meant to her. She also knew this was what she’d been trained to do. She slammed the truck into park, grabbed the bag behind her seat, and ran toward the burning structures.

  —

  Travis was returning from Huntsville when he received the call from James.

  “I just heard this from Angela, who caught it on the police scanner she watches on her computer.”

  “It’s against protocol to—”

  “Listen! There’s a fire at Cameron Stoke’s place out on 351. Angela heard the fire department dispatched out there twenty minutes ago.”

  “Why—”

  “Then five minutes ago she heard Erin call in and ask if anyone had rescued the horses.”

  Travis felt his heart stop, literally stop beating in his chest. It was a curious sensation. He counted—one, two, three, four seconds—and then he felt it beat again. The car behind him honked and swerved since he’d forgotten to press the gas pedal.

  He checked his rearview mirror and completed a U-turn in the middle of the county road.

  “You’re telling me Erin’s out there?”

  “I thought you’d want to know.”

  Travis disconnected the phone, floored the Blazer, and prayed.

  It took him twelve minutes to reach the stables.

  Twelve minutes, and by then the barn roofs had caved in. Three of Livingston’s fire trucks were there, and plenty of cars were lined up with people gawking.

  He searched for Erin’s truck, spotted it with the door still open.

  No auburn hair in the crowd.

  No Erin s
tanding on the sideline.

  He pushed his way to the front and crossed over the tape they’d set up to keep everyone back.

  Dan Baker looked up in surprise, a clipboard in one hand, a walkie-talkie in the other. “You need to stay behind—”

  “Is Erin in there?”

  “I need you to stay on the other side of that tape. This area is volatile.”

  A small explosion sounded from the southwest corner of the structure. Dan spoke into his handheld set and began to move away.

  Travis reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

  “Is she in there?”

  Dan stopped and looked him in the eye.

  “I tried to stop her, but there were horses trapped in the back.”

  “How long?”

  “Fifteen minutes ago. I gave her a suit, tried to give her a walkie, but she took off—”

  Travis began to run, but Dan tackled him.

  “You can’t go back there. No one else goes back there until these buildings are stabilized.”

  Travis looked at this man he’d known all his life, respected all his life, and knew he’d deck him if he had to in order to go after Erin. The realization hit him at the same moment a gasp rippled through the crowd.

  They both turned and saw a slight figure walking through the smoke. She was leading a horse with each hand. Each horse had its head covered with a blanket.

  Nothing could have stopped him.

  He ran to her, took one of the reins, then wrapped his arms around her.

  “I was so afraid.” He spoke into her hair, which smelled of smoke and dirt, fear and exhaustion. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so. Maybe a couple of scrapes.” She began to cough, and he wouldn’t, couldn’t let her go. “Help me with these two?”

  “Tell me what they need.”

  “Water, drops. I’ll show you.”

  Together they doctored the animals first, and that shouldn’t have surprised him. It was a good hour before he convinced her to see the paramedics.

  “How many were there?”

  “Six. I managed to get the other four out the back, but these two were too scared.”