Sworn to Protect

by Susanne Matthews

  She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the heat. The air was muggier than usual, and when the storm did hit, it would be a bad one. The strange sense of impending doom that had bothered her the last couple of days seemed worse this morning. It felt as if someone was out there, watching and waiting, biding their time. She wasn’t clairvoyant, didn’t believe in that stuff, but she couldn’t shake her unease. Perhaps, since she’d always hated storms, knowing a severe one was on its way accounted for it, but there was something else, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

  Last night, after one of the nightmares that had left her more terrified than any of the others, in an effort to comfort her, Neil had explained about the trap Anderson had set in motion to catch whoever was behind the attempts on her life. Money laundering charges were laid against Claymore Investments yesterday, so it was just a matter of time before they knew how many rats had been caught in their trap. As soon as they got word, they’d leave here and go to Oregon and the new life waiting for them. For now, it was a case of waiting, and she hated biding her time.

  Neil had gone out of his way to make their stay here as pleasant as possible and keep her mind off what had happened. They’d shared the chores although he’d done the lion’s portion of the heavier ones because of her health. When the work was done, they’d played board games, put together a large, jigsaw puzzle only to discover it was missing two pieces, and they’d watched television, laughing at the antics of The Big Bang Theory. At least once a day, they took turns quizzing one another on their new identities. She was now Moira Adams, an only child, whose parents had died in a tragic accident ten years earlier. She didn’t expect to have trouble remembering her new name since it was her mother’s.

  According to her profile, she was a retired DEA officer who’d been seriously injured in a gun battle. It explained her scars and her lack of recent memories perfectly. There were too many things that had happened in the last six years that she didn’t know, and rather than try to fake it, simply telling the truth about the brain injury worked best. Neil, whose new name was Matthew, had worked at the DEA with her. It explained his skills and why he was armed as well. While they couldn’t be sure where they were going, the chances were good it would be somewhere reasonably isolated. Neil had mentioned Oregon, Washington, and Alaska, but somewhere in Canada was also a possibility.

  Neil had shown great patience teaching her how to use the small pocket gun he insisted she carry with her at all times. The NSS Guardian was lightweight, and while the thought she might have to use it scared her, knowing she could defend herself made her feel safer. She hoped to be able to lock the gun away in a gun safe when they got to their permanent home, but until then, among the paperwork for Moira Adams was a permit to carry a concealed weapon.

  When Roy had brought their groceries that first week, Neil had left a note asking if they could have a couple of his horses to ride, and two beautiful chestnut mares showed up the next day. It hadn’t taken long to get comfortable in the saddle, and together they’d explored most of the ranch and the low part of the hills. They’d discovered a small stream that ran through the farm and had gone fishing several times, catching their supper on more than one occasion. Other times, they’d walked through the woods, and Neil had taught her about the trees. She could now name most of them.

  The door opened, and Neil stepped out onto the porch with two steaming mugs of coffee.

  “Good morning,” he said, handing her one of the cups. “You’re up early, but you really shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. The nice weather isn’t going to last today, so I wanted to get in whatever outdoor time I could. Besides, you’re the one who keeps telling me I’m safe here.”

  “You are, but you still should’ve waited for me,” he scolded, raising his mug to his lips.

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t break all the rules. My gun’s in my pocket. We both know no one’s getting into this yard without us hearing them.”

  A couple of days ago, a cow had brushed up against the fence and bellowed loudly enough to raise the dead. It had scared the daylights out of her.

  “True,” he said and chuckled. “That cow won’t try that again anytime soon. I’d still like to know how Mama got in, but then anything that eats what she does probably doesn’t mind a little electric shock now and then. How’s the head? You didn’t get a lot of shut-eye last night either.”

  “I’m good. Any word from Anderson?” she asked, turning to face him fully and leaning back against the railing.

  “No, but no news isn’t necessarily bad news. He’ll contact us when it’s safe to do so.”

  “I know we have to leave eventually, but I really like it here, so the longer we can stay, the better.” She pivoted to face the mountains once more. “The air is fresh and clean. Winters will be rougher than I’m used to, but I feel like I’m in paradise. I’ll miss the horses. I assume they’re fed and watered?”

  “Yup, and I’ve cleaned their straw. They’re a little nervous—probably the weather—but the stable is well-built if not airtight. I’m pretty sure I can manage a couple of horses where we’re going. Frankly, I don’t care where we end up as long as we’re together.”

  Nancy smiled, warmed by his declaration, but didn’t comment. Instead, she kissed his cheek and turned back to the sunrise. Maybe it was time to bring up her desire to be a mother.

  “It’s my turn to make breakfast,” he said. “There’s instant oatmeal or I can fry up some eggs.”

  “Oatmeal’s fine.” Before she could say anything else, the black clouds in the distance flashed white. A few seconds later, thunder growled making her jump.

  “We’d better get inside,” Neil said. “The wind’s picking up. We have a long, boring day ahead of us.”

  “Boring is good,” she stated emphatically. “I’ve had enough excitement to last me the rest of my life. Do you think we’ll lose power? I’ve got laundry to do.”

  “Let’s not borrow trouble. If we do, there’s a generator in the woodshed that will keep us going for a while. Why don’t you get the wash started while I get breakfast on the table?” Fat raindrops splattered the veranda. “Here it comes,” he said.

  “With raindrops this size, it probably won’t last long.” She moved away from the rail and preceded him inside.

  * * *

  Nancy was wrong. The storm raged on and off all day, gale-force winds whipping the poplars so hard Neil feared it would tear the majestic trees out of the ground. Thunder shook the house, and Nancy was antsier than a cat in a yard full of dogs. There was something on her mind, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. They’d watched movies and worked together on a giant crossword puzzle, but he knew she was frightened, and he couldn’t do anything to make her feel better. They’d just finished an early dinner when the lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness.

  Neil reached for the barbecue lighter he kept on the fireplace mantel and lit the candle on the dining room table, bathing the room in a comfortable, pine-scented glow.

  “I’m surprised the power lasted this long,” he said. “At least you managed to get all the laundry done. I’ll go out and start the generator and take care of the horses before it gets any darker out there.”

  “Why not wait a while? Maybe the power will come back on by itself,” she said. “I want to talk to you about something. I’ve been trying to figure out how to do it all day.”

  “Honey, I like your optimism,” Neil said, focusing on her first comment, wishing he could ignore the last. “But realistically speaking, I think the wind finally blew the lines down. The horses need to be fed and watered. Will you be all right for a little while? We can talk all you want when I get back.”

  He hated leaving her, but dragging her across the yard in the rain wasn’t an option.

  “When you get back, I want to do more than talk.”

  He frowned. “Whatever you want is fine by me. We can play a game, wat
ch a movie—”

  “I want to have a baby,” she blurted out, stopping him cold in his tracks.

  “Say that again,” he whispered, afraid to believe what she’d said.

  “I want to have a baby, your baby. I know you think I’m too fragile and we have lots of unresolved issues, but I want to be a normal wife. I want a family.” The words rushed out of her as if she was afraid that if she didn’t say them all right now, she never would.

  Neil stood, moved around the table and pulled her up into his arms. “Are you sure about this, Nancy? There’s no rush. I wanted to give you time ... There’s nothing I would love more than taking you to bed and making love to you for hours on end, planting my seed deep inside you.”

  “Then why haven’t you?” she asked, and bit her lower lip. “I thought maybe you didn’t...”

  He bent his head and crushed her lips with his, all of the desire he’d kept hidden coming out. He teased the edge of her lips and she opened to him, giving as good as she got, their tongues tangling, dueling, both winners in this sport. He hardened, ready to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom where he could renew his acquaintance with every delectable inch of her body. A loud crash of thunder brought him to his senses.

  “Hold my place,” he said and winked. “Maybe those horses weren’t such a good idea since I’ve got to go feed them and get the generator going. And I sure don’t want to get out of your arms to do it later.”

  She laughed. “Go, I’ll be right here when you get back, or maybe I’ll be down the hall waiting.” She winked. “I’ll clean up and see if I can find a bottle of wine. I’ll be fine. No one in his or her right mind would be out in this—well, except you, He-man, so go do what you have to do.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “I’ll get the power up first and then see to the animals. Give me twenty minutes.”

  “You’ve got it.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him again.

  Moving far more quickly than he had, Neil pulled his rain slicker from the hook by the door and put it on. “I won’t be long. When I get back, I’ll bring up some wood and make a fire since it’ll be damp tonight. We could get cozy on that sofa in front of the fireplace.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said, her teeth chewing her lower lip, her eyes aglow at what he had in mind.

  He smiled and left the house, determined to be back long before his twenty minutes were up.

  The wind bent the trees even lower than it had earlier, and the ground was littered with small branches and leaves. He hoped the storm would blow itself out by morning without too much more damage. Moving around the house, staying as close to the building as he could to stay upright in the wind, the rain beating down on him, he headed into the woodshed first.

  She wanted him, wanted his baby. Life might be unpredictable, with a killer on their trail, but right this minute, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  It was dark in the outbuilding, but the flashlight he’d seen there earlier helped him find the gas can, and he filled the generator. It took four attempts before the gas engine turned over, and once it was purring like a kitten, he flipped the switch. As he looked through the small window, he saw the lights come on in the house. He made sure everything was well away from the machine and turned to go back out into the storm. The generator could run for twelve hours on one fill up, so they’d be fine until morning—he didn’t plan to get much sleep tonight, but he wanted to keep the place relatively warm for her.

  Carrying the flashlight, he fought the wind and rain as he hurried to the stable. The horses seemed nervous, moving around their stalls and whinnying, but while the log building wasn’t air tight, the roof was solid and it was dry inside. Moving them to the end of the stable, he mucked out the stalls. Once he’d laid fresh straw, he mixed oats and grain for the animals, filled their water troughs, and covered them with their blankets. Pushing the wheelbarrow full of dirty straw out back, he slogged through the rain to the midden he’d started downwind from the house. The heavy mud made it slow going, but he soon dumped his load, let the rain rinse his cart, and returned to the stable.

  He’d just added fresh hay to the mangers and moved the horses back into their individual stalls, when he heard a noise. Looking around quickly, nothing seemed out of place. The stable door was open, no doubt pulled that way by the wind. He walked over, shut it once more, and turned back to the horses. The animals seemed edgier than they’d been earlier. Maybe some animal had crawled in out of the rain.

  “It’s okay, girl,” he said, patting his mare’s hind. “Just bad weather and maybe a wet cat.”

  A chuckle sounded behind him. “Oh, I think it’s a bit more than that, marshal.”

  He reached for his gun, but before he could pull it from the holster, stars exploded in his head, and he dropped to the straw beneath the nervous horse’s hooves. He would be trampled if he didn’t move, but his body refused to obey him. Someone flipped him over and pulled his gun out of its holster.

  “You won’t be needing this. The little lady and I have unfinished business.”

  Nancy! Dear God.

  Blood ran down his face, its copper scent strong as it trickled by his nose. He tried to grab at the man’s pants, but a swift kick caught him in the ribs, and everything went black.

  * * *

  Fresh from her bath, Nancy came out of the bedroom wearing her nightgown and robe, just as the door opened. She hurried down the hall.

  “That took you a lot longer than twenty minutes. I waited for you until the water turned cold. There isn’t any wine, but I found some whiskey—” She froze.

  “How very thoughtful of you, Nancy, I would love a drink. And don’t you look scrumptious? Planning a little romantic tryst? I’ll make sure you aren’t disappointed.” The stranger leered.

  Nancy’s stomach roiled. There was something about his voice. Where was Neil?

  “That dark hair does something for you ... makes you look even sexier,” the man continued, his eyes glazed. “Seeing you here came as quite a surprise, but where’s Fred? Does that poor schmuck in the stable realize what a little tramp you are? You know, that adage, ‘Good things come to those who wait,’ couldn’t be truer. I just had to be patient.”

  Terrified, her breath coming in gasps, she stared at the stranger standing inside the doorway. The man was soaking wet, rain running from his hair down his face into his collar. He was covered in dirt, and she could smell the tang of manure on him. His icy blue eyes filled with madness tickled something on the edge of her mind. In his hand, pointed straight at her, was a weapon similar to Neil’s, and it took Nancy only a second to realize it was Neil’s Glock. If that was Neil’s gun, where was Neil?

  She shoved her hand into the pocket of her robe, searching for her weapon only to remember she’d left it in her sweater, but that garment was on the back of a kitchen chair a good twenty feet away from where she stood. Her stomach clenched, and she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She had to get to her weapon. Inching toward the table, moving slowly, her eyes glued on the intruder’s face, she fought to keep her panic at bay.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded. “My husband will be here any second.”

  “I doubt that,” he said and smiled, exposing yellow teeth. “If you’re referring to the marshal, he’s stuck in the stable at the moment and can’t come to the rescue.”

  The man shut the door behind him and locked it.

  Nancy’s hands trembled, and her heart pounded wildly.

  “Who are you? Who’s Fred?” she asked again. What had happened to Neil? Where was he?

  “Don’t you recognize me? No? I’ll admit I’m not at my best. I’m Clive Connors, your former supervisor at Olsen, Jensen, and Merriweather. I wanted to be more than that, but apparently I wasn’t good enough for you. I can’t even imagine how Fred convinced you to work with him. Look at you now, just waiting to shag the next man through that door. My luck has definitely improved since that’s me. As to who Fred is, he’s your
partner and the man who stole fifty million dollars from my associates and me, the man who gave you the password to that file. He’s the only one who could’ve done it. He’s double crossed us—maybe you as well. We want Fred, our money, and the USB drive with the stolen file on it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never heard of you or that company. I don’t know anyone named Fred, I sure as hell don’t have fifty million dollars, and I don’t have the USB drive. It was in my suitcase—the one that was in the house in Florida—the one you blew up.”

  He sprang at her before she could get out of the way and grabbed her painfully by the upper arms.

  “Liar!” he shouted, shaking her viciously, rattling her teeth, before shoving her away from him.

  She landed hard on the floor, stayed there, and rubbed her sore arms, fear making her weak. Tears crept down her cheeks.

  “I know you have it. I was on my way out to lunch a couple of days ago, when an FBI agent and a U. S. marshal showed up at the office with a tablet they claimed belonged to you. He wanted to speak to someone about opening an encrypted folder. Since I already had your computer, your tablet, and your cell phone, I realized it had to be one of theirs, which meant the man who’d apparently retrieved and destroyed the USB flash drives found in your house hadn’t found the right one. I still can’t figure out how you smuggled it out of the office and past the security guards. They swore they searched you. Discovering that the feds had the file six weeks ago sent everyone into a panic, and then realizing the damn thing had multiplied like rabbits, even if they couldn’t open it, was a nasty surprise. The tablet they showed me contained a copy of the file you stole, so don’t deny it. I managed to pretend I was opening it until I could set off the embedded virus program and destroy it. Needless to say, the marshal was upset, but he let it slip that there was still a copy on a USB drive at a secure location. Now, I need to know where Fred and my money are, and I want that USB drive. The file can only be downloaded intact from it.”

  Nancy licked her lips nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was shot in the head and have retrograde amnesia.”