The Widow's Protector

by Stephanie Newton

  Fiona laughed. “Yeah, asking for help.”

  He still looked desperate. Now, he also looked defeated.

  “Okay, Brennan, you need a plan. First, you need to take family leave until you get this figured out.”

  “I don’t want to do that. I love my job.” He looked out the front window of the store that some kind soul had thought to clean the soot off of.

  “Do you love the kids or your job more?” She hated to put it in those terms, but sometimes reality was harsh. “You’re the kind of person that family leave was created for. So you won’t lose your job because you’re caring for your family.”

  He stared into the distance, but then he looked at her and nodded, accepting, she guessed, what he had to do. “Okay. Then what?”

  “The church has a great day care. Your two-year-old niece can go to preschool. You’ll probably also find some good babysitters there. How long do you think you’re going to have custody of the girls?”

  “Indefinitely.” The baby whimpered and Brennan’s red-rimmed eyes widened in fear. He started bouncing up and down.

  “You should take her to see my brother Charles. Sometimes babies have an intolerance to the formula they’re on. That makes them really fussy.”

  “Really? How do you know this stuff?”

  She patted the baby’s back. “Books and about a thousand doctor appointments with Sean when he was a baby. You’ll figure it out.”

  He winced as the baby wailed. “I’m not sure I’ll still be sane.”

  “We all feel that way. Why don’t you let me keep her while you go talk to them at the fire department? I’m sure they’re wondering what’s going on.”

  Brennan lifted the carrier from his shoulder and placed it over hers. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Certain. Go.”

  He laid a diaper bag on the floor at her feet and started for the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Her name is Piper.”

  “Come to the house. I’ll be there.” She looked down at the tiny little face. “Oh, you’re sweet.”

  A feeling stirred inside her, one she hadn’t felt in a long time. She recognized it as longing. She had Sean and she was happy and content, but there was space in her heart for more. More kids, more love. Just…more.

  The baby’s dark blue newborn eyes blinked at her, asking, Who are you, lady? Are you a friend? She patted the baby and laughed as the tiny thing let out a loud belch and promptly drifted back to sleep.

  Well, now she knew why Brennan was acting so weird. Not because he was the arsonist, but because he’d inherited a couple babies and was suffering from sleep deprivation. And a good case of the terror that comes along with being a new parent.

  But that was one person to cross off her mental suspect list. Actually, she didn’t have anyone else on her mental suspect list. Which left Hunter exactly where the real arsonist wanted him.

  In the police department’s crosshairs.

  * * *

  Fire-Rescue One rolled up to a large shingle-style Victorian. Mayoral candidate Burke Hennessy’s house was pristine on the outside. Hunter hadn’t been on the inside, but he had every reason to believe it would be just as pristine from what he knew of the owners. The Hennessys were very particular people.

  This was a medical call according to the dispatcher. Since their unit was a medical-response unit, they went to every call. Hunter’s heart rate still picked up when they were on a call out. He never knew what they were going to find. It was a never-ending variety of challenges.

  He opened the compartment on the side of the truck which held the basic lifesaving kit, grabbed it and ran for the door, checking his six o’clock for the probie. Lance, the rookie, was supposed to be on his heels at all times. It was the only way to learn.

  Finding the door cracked open, he knocked loudly. When there was no answer, he entered the house, motioning for Lance to stay behind him. He was right. The house was perfect. Every piece of furniture was top-of-the-line and since he’d just furnished his house, he should know. “Hello?”

  He pushed the talk button on the walkie-talkie clipped to the collar of his turnout coat. “Deborah, what was the name again?”

  After the staticky response, he tried calling out again for the Hennessys’ nanny. “Ms. Nunez? Delores Nunez?”

  A faint noise came from the back of the house. He met eyes with the probie and jerked his head toward the rear of the residence.

  At the end of the hall in a sunny nursery, the Hennessys’ baby squealed happily in the crib against the wall. Unlike the rest of the house, which looked beautiful but like it would shatter if touched, the nursery was sweet and cozy.

  Another slight moan sounded. He found Delores Nunez slumped against the wall behind the upholstered rocker. The nanny’s serviceable black skirt was wrapped around her knees, her white blouse sticking to her skin.

  He guessed her age to be around fifty, her color slightly gray and her respirations fast. He rushed to her side. “Ms. Nunez, my name is Hunter Reece. I’m a firefighter-EMT. We’re here to help you.”

  She closed her eyes in relief.

  “Lance, get the chair out of the way.”

  As the rookie hauled the chair to the other side of the room, Hunter gently set down his bag beside her. “What seems to be the problem, Ms. Nunez?”

  “Can’t breathe,” she panted. “My chest hurts. I think—I’m having a heart attack.”

  He pulled the stethoscope and blood pressure cuff out of his bag and wrapped it around her arm, pumping it up and listening as he checked her reading. Definitely a little high, but not dangerously so. “Ms. Nunez, what were you doing when you started feeling the pain?”

  “Call me Delores, please. I put the baby down for a nap. I should’ve been in the kitchen folding laundry, but I was so sleepy that I laid down on my bed, just through there.” She pointed to the left into another bedroom about the size of this one.

  Hunter noticed as she was talking that her respirations were slowing and her color was improving slightly. Lance stood just inside the door, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he watched.

  Max Lavigne, the lone paramedic on their shift, poked his head in the room, but Hunter had already established somewhat of a rapport with the older woman. Since she didn’t seem to be in life-threatening distress, Max would let Hunter continue to take the lead.

  Hunter held Delores’s wrist loosely in his fingers. Her pulse fluttered wildly. “Do you have any pain in your left arm or back?”

  “No?” Her voice was hesitant. “Only this tightness in my chest.” Her breath hitched in. “It started when a noise woke me up. I saw a man. He was just standing there over the baby.”

  Losing count, Hunter stared into the nanny’s eyes. She’d seemed lucid, but maybe there were signs of a stroke that he’d missed. Her pupils looked fine, no slurred speech. He lifted both of her arms to shoulder height and laid his palms against her fists. “Press against my hands. Who was standing over the baby?”

  “This is crazy, but I think it was the police chief.”

  For a second he forgot to note her strength, but both arms were responding evenly. There was no visible sign that she’d suffered a stroke. Hunter shot Max a look of concern. “The police chief?”

  She nodded vigorously. “He was in the shadows because I had the shades drawn, but I am almost positive it was the chief of police.” Her breath was drawing more quickly. “I was afraid because I thought something was wrong with the baby. I was frozen in my bed. But he just stood over her and looked. When I called out, he ran.”

  Max knelt beside her on the other side and shined his small flashlight in her eyes. “We’re talking about Aiden Fitzgerald?”

  The nanny nodded. “I think so.”

  Hunter tilted his head and gave her his most reassuring smile. “I’m not sure what you saw, Ms. Nunez—Delores—but that’s okay.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Am I going to die?”

  “You don’t have the no
rmal signs of a heart attack.” Hunter heard the distinctive wail of the ambulance siren as it pulled on the street.

  “But my chest hurts.” Delores clutched at her shirt.

  “Usually in the case of chest pain and shortness of breath, we send patients to the E.R. just to be sure. You did the right thing to call us,” Max said as he draped his stethoscope around his neck and patted her hand. “It’s going to be fine.”

  “I can’t leave little Miss Georgina! I’m supposed to watch over her.” Her face, so colorless when they’d arrived, flushed pink. “Someone could’ve taken her. Mrs. Hennessy is going to be so mad at me. Oh, I’m going to lose my job!”

  She began to sob.

  Hunter put his arm around her and lifted her to her feet. “Delores, Max here is a paramedic. He’s going to go with you to the hospital in the ambulance and the other firefighters and I are going to make sure Georgina is safe until her mom and dad get home.”

  Max deftly steered Delores with Lance’s help toward the front door where the ambulance crew were coming in with the gurney. They would continue evaluating her on the way to the hospital.

  Hunter stayed in the nursery where the baby girl, Georgina, stood in her crib. The Hennessys had adopted her early last year, in a private adoption from a mother who abused drugs. It was interesting, though. Almost eighteen months later, Georgina didn’t act like a baby suffering from the ill effects of being born addicted to drugs.

  The probie sauntered back into the room. “That was weird. What do you think?”

  “About Aiden Fitzgerald standing over the crib? No idea.” Hunter took a step closer to the baby. Holding on to the rail with one hand, she studied him with unblinking blue eyes. After a few seconds of staring, she brought a small square of silk to rub on her cheek and held her other arm out to Hunter in obvious appeal.

  The freckle-faced firefighter laughed. “I know one thing. You’re elected to babysit until the parents get home. She likes you.”

  Hunter shucked off his turnout coat and tossed it over the rocking chair. He lifted the baby into his arms. “What, probies are too good to hold babies?”

  She snuggled close, laying her head on his shoulder and he was reminded of Sean as a baby. Hunter had been like a favorite uncle since the day that little boy was born. And since Jimmy died, Hunter had been there, to take Sean to Little League games, to go fishing, to show him how to ride a two-wheeler. He’d loved that kid from the first time he’d held him.

  He patted Georgina’s back. There was just something about that ultimate trust when a baby held out her arms to you, waiting to be held. He wondered sometimes if he would ever have his own kids. Wondered why he always imagined them as little ginger-headed blue-eyed babies.

  “So you want me to call Department of Children and Families or what?”

  Hunter looked up at the probie firefighter, who was obviously anxious to get back to the “real” work of firefighting.

  Hunter tickled Georgina under the chin, laughing as she giggled and leaned in for another tickle. “May as well hang out for a while. By the time we get the county department of children and families people out here, the parents will probably be home.” He heard a car come screeching to a stop in the driveway. “See?”

  Christina Hennessy came storming in the door, her hair flying out behind her. Her three-inch heels clacked on the hardwood flooring of the foyer. “Where’s my baby? Where’s Georgina? Delores!”

  Hunter stepped farther into the hall, so she could see the baby was perfectly fine. “Mrs. Hennessy, I’ve got Georgina right here.”

  When she caught sight of them, panic bloomed on her face.

  “Mrs. Hennessy, Georgina is fine.” Hunter walked toward Christina, bouncing Georgina just a bit to keep her calm. “Everything is fine.”

  Burke Hennessy came in the door behind his wife. His eyes tracked immediately to Hunter, as Christina took the baby from Hunter’s arms and began to cry. “Oh, Burke. Something terrible has happened.”

  Georgina squirmed and began to fuss, her mother’s obvious distress fueling her cries. Hunter wasn’t sure what Christina was talking about, considering that she hadn’t even asked about Delores or the baby. She had no idea what was going on. He was at a loss—he’d never seen Christina anything but perfectly poised and he wasn’t sure if he should step in, or just allow Burke Hennessy to handle things.

  Burke looked at Hunter over his wife’s head. “What’s the problem? Was there an alarm?”

  Hunter stepped forward to shake Burke’s hand. “I’m Hunter Reece, sir. We were called out on a medical emergency. Your nanny, Delores Nunez, was transported to the hospital with chest pains.”

  “Oh, Burke, what are we going to do?” Burke had his arm around Christina and the baby, but Christina sagged and cried even harder and as she squeezed Georgina, the baby screamed louder.

  Burke’s mouth settled into a hard line. “Christina, give me the baby and go to the bedroom and lie down. I’ll be in soon to check on you.”

  She handed the baby to him and stumbled her way down the hall, still sobbing like a kindergartner who’d just had her lunch money stolen.

  Burke held the tearful Georgina. His eyes followed Christina until the bedroom door slammed dramatically.

  Hunter picked up the square of silk that seemed to be Georgina’s favorite comfort item and handed it to her. She tucked it under her chin and laid her head on Burke’s shoulder.

  The mayoral candidate sighed almost imperceptibly. “Christina’s very close to Delores. I don’t think we need to talk about this to anyone, do we?”

  Shaking his head slowly, Hunter backed toward the nursery. “I’m sure it’s alarming to find the fire department in your home when you return from an outing. I’ll just get my coat and we’ll be going.” He was the sole member of B-shift still inside. The other guys had abandoned the house as soon as the Hennessys had arrived.

  Burke Hennessy held the baby stiffly. “Thank you for taking care of things here. I’m sure we’re quite indebted to you.”

  “It’s no problem, sir. You’ve got a little sweetheart there.”

  Georgina bounced in Hennessy’s arms, the crying fit forgotten. He patted her back but didn’t look at her. “She is that. Thanks again.”

  Hunter’s radio crackled to life at his shoulder. “Sir, if you’ll excuse me.”

  With a quick wave to little Georgina, he ran for the door, his boots sounding heavy on their hardwood floor. He swung onto the rig as it roared down the street, sighing as he saw the unmarked police car pull out behind them. Douglas or Nick inside, most likely.

  He listened to the information about a fire in a warehouse, his mind still back at the awkward encounter with the Hennessys. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d missed something important.

  * * *

  Late for coffee with Betsie, Fiona rushed toward the Sugar Plum—as fast as she could with sore ribs and a bruise the size of Texas that she’d just discovered around her left knee. The achiness had hit a new level this morning. The time she’s spent with Brennan’s tiny niece had been sweet, but hard on her healing body. It had been good for Brennan to get some things settled, though. And if there was anything she knew as a single parent, no one could do it alone.

  After Brennan left with his niece, what she’d really wanted to do was take some ibuprofen and crawl back under the covers. Instead, she checked her bag for the notebook that she would need as she and Betsie put together a comprehensive list to repair their shops. Everything from the studs out. They would both get a better deal if they could coordinate. She had someone in her shop this afternoon, replacing wallboard and beginning the paint job. They could go directly from The Reading Nook to the Sweet Shoppe if Betsie wanted them to.

  Their insurance was balking at paying a claim that was arson without finding a culprit behind the crimes, but the money that the community raised would give them a starting point. Her eyes watered again as she remembered the stands full of people and her dad and Uncle
Mickey tirelessly fixing plates of burgers.

  Take that, arsonist, whoever you are. You won’t get this town down.

  Nick had been right when he had told them to hang on to faith and family. Family came through. Sometimes it seemed easier to hang on to them when they were already so close. Betsie and Hunter were her family, too.

  Holding on to faith was always a little harder, but God had been with her through the hardest time in her life. When she hadn’t known where to turn for strength, she’d found it in her relationship with Him. At her lowest point, He’d brought her up. And she knew that whatever was to come, she wouldn’t be alone.

  Inside, the hostess’s stand was empty. She peeked her head into the dining room. Sitting in the sunny window in the back, Betsie had her head bent over a magazine.

  “Sorry I’m running late.” Fiona slid into the chair on the opposite side from Betsie.

  The inn’s hostess, Charlotte, her red hair gelled into saucy spikes, slid a mug of coffee in front of her. Fiona sighed in relief. “Keep ’em coming, Char. And can you bring us a plate of chocolate-chip cookies?”

  She looked at Betsie for confirmation and got an enthusiastic nod.

  Charlotte patted her shoulder. “Will do, honey. Victoria just baked a batch. About that coffee though, the way you two have been finding trouble, maybe I should switch you to decaf.”

  Betsie gasped in mock horror. “Don’t you dare!”

  Charlotte bustled away, chuckling under her breath.

  “She’s a hoot and a half. Decaf.” Betsie leaned forward. “All right. Spill the beans. What’s going on with Hunter? I’ve been waiting days to get the lowdown.”

  Fiona took her time adding sugar and cream to her coffee. She took a sip.

  Betsie made a frustrated noise. “How about I start? He’s a total hot potato and it’s about time you noticed?”

  The snort of laughter combined with the hot coffee nearly choked Fiona. “He’s my friend!”

  “A friend with soulful brown eyes and a sexy dimple. Not to mention, he’s total boyfriend material.” Betsie spooned sugar into her own coffee.