Her Mistletoe Protector

by Laura Scott

  “Good idea,” Nick agreed readily. “I’ll stay out here, since I’ll need to keep feeding wood into the fireplace, anyway.”

  She nodded, relieved to have an excuse to avoid Nick for the rest of the night. The way she’d warned Nick to stay away from her son was just as important for her to remember, as well. In all honesty, she was becoming far too dependent on Nick. She crossed over to lift her sleeping son into her arms. At nine years old, he was too big to carry, but she managed, staggering under his weight yet unwilling to ask Nick for help.

  The bedroom was cool, being farther away from the fire. She set Joey on the bed and, amazingly, he didn’t wake up. She shivered and searched for more blankets. Luckily, she’d found earlier a huge hope chest filled with handmade quilts. She retrieved several of them to use as covers and then stretched out on the bed next to Joey.

  After everything they’d been through, she was physically exhausted. But her mind raced, replaying every moment of the past twenty-four hours. No matter what she tried, her mind wouldn’t settle and it was only after she recited the Lord’s Prayer, the only prayer she remembered from her childhood, that she finally managed to fall asleep.

  * * *

  Nick dozed, waking himself up every few hours to put more wood on the fire and to make sure everything was all right outside. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, when they’d spent the night in the car, so he had to depend on the deeply ingrained training his four years in the Marine Corps had given him in order to keep watch, despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

  He tried to formulate a plan for the following day, but every time he closed his eyes, he fell asleep. When he dragged himself off the sofa at six in the morning, dawn had lightened the darkness and the fire had dwindled.

  It didn’t take long to bring the glowing embers back to life. Since it was too late to go back to sleep, he washed up in the small bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet, thankful to find a somewhat rusty razor along with some ancient shaving cream. There were other items his uncle had left up there, too, but he limited himself to using the razor.

  When he came out of the bathroom, he heard movement from the back bedroom. He wasn’t surprised when Joey’s head peeked out from behind the door. “Hi, Nick,” he whispered.

  “Good morning, Joey,” he whispered back. Rachel must still be sleeping or he was sure she’d have already put an end to the brief conversation. At some point during the wee hours of the morning, he’d figured out that the main reason Rachel didn’t want him spending time with her son was that she thought he might get too attached to Joey, after the way he’d lost his own child.

  Still, he couldn’t ignore the kid gazing at him with wide green eyes, so he gestured for Joey to come out of the bedroom. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  Joey nodded eagerly and slipped through the narrow opening, quietly closing the door behind him. The boy was wearing the same clothes as the day before, not that he seemed to mind. “What’s for breakfast?”

  Good question. “I don’t know. Let’s take a look, okay?” He put a hand behind Joey’s back, urging him down the short hall to the main room. Rachel couldn’t be too upset with him for not waking her up, he rationalized, since she obviously needed the rest. “I think I saw some oatmeal,” he said to Joey. “Do you like oatmeal?”

  “With brown sugar,” the boy said excitedly.

  “I’m not sure we have any brown sugar,” he said cautiously. “But I think there’s some regular sugar, which should work just as well.”

  Joey stopped in front of the fire, holding his hands toward the flames as if he were cold. “Did you keep the fire going all night, Nick?”

  “Yep. It’s our main source of heat for the cabin.” He found a box of oatmeal, but it wasn’t the instant kind, so he followed the cooking directions on the label.

  Joey kept up a constant stream of chatter, and Nick couldn’t help admiring the boy’s quick mind. Rachel’s son was interested in everything, from camping to sports. To help pass the time until breakfast was ready, he showed Joey how to carve small animals in pieces of wood with his penknife.

  As they talked, he realized he couldn’t have kept his distance from the boy if his life depended on it.

  When the oatmeal was ready, he poured the steaming breakfast into two medium-size bowls. His uncle actually did have some brown sugar stored in an airtight container, so he liberally sprinkled their breakfast before taking Joey’s hand in his.

  “We have to pray before we eat,” he said.

  “Why?” Joey asked, his gaze curious.

  Nick sensed he was heading down a path Rachel might not approve, but he wanted Joey to be given the option of believing in God. “Because we need to thank God for the food we’re about to eat.”

  Joey pursed his lips. “Is God in heaven?” he asked.

  “Yes, and He’s always there for us, whenever we need Him.”

  Joey frowned for a moment. “You think God was with me when I was in the dark, stinky room?” he asked.

  Nick’s heart clenched and he nodded. “Yes, Joey, I do. Your mom and I were praying for God to watch over you the whole time you were gone.”

  “Really?” Joey brightened at the news. “I wish I would have known that,” he confessed. “Maybe I wouldn’t have been so scared.”

  Nick wished the same thing, but no sense in going back, trying to change the past. In his opinion, it was never too late to believe in the Lord.

  He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for the food and shelter You’ve provided for us, and we ask You again, to keep us safe from harm. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Joey echoed.

  Nick lifted his head and opened his eyes to find Rachel standing behind Joey’s chair. She’d approached so quietly he hadn’t heard her. He tensed, expecting an argument, but she simply added “Amen” to his prayer.

  He immediately pushed back from the table. “Here, take my bowl of oatmeal, I’ll get more.”

  She hesitated for a moment but then accepted his hot cereal and took a seat next to her son. He was touched at how they both waited until he returned before eating.

  They were too busy eating to talk much. He watched with amusement as Joey quickly emptied his bowl. “Can I have seconds?” he asked anxiously.

  “Of course,” Nick responded, exchanging a knowing look with Rachel. Joey hadn’t eaten much yesterday, but it appeared his appetite had returned.

  “So what’s the plan for today?” Rachel asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he answered honestly. “I should check in with my boss again, see if he can give us anything further to go on.”

  She darted a glance at Joey and nodded. He sensed there was more she wanted to say but didn’t feel she could talk freely in front of Joey.

  When they were finished with breakfast, Rachel insisted on doing the dishes, so he took the opportunity to do a quick perimeter check. The only problem was that Joey wanted to come with him.

  He glanced helplessly over at Rachel, silently pleading with her to help. As much as he liked spending time with the boy, he needed to make sure the area around the cabin was secure. And he didn’t want Joey to come outside with him until he was convinced they were safe.

  “Joey, I need you to dry the dishes for me, okay? There will be time later for you to play outside.”

  “That’s women’s work,” Joey mumbled, lightly kicking at the chair.

  “No, it’s not,” Nick corrected. “I did the dishes last night, so it’s only fair you take your turn.”

  Joey’s disgruntled expression faded as he considered Nick’s words. “All right,” he finally agreed, going over to pick up the dish towel.

  Rachel ruefully rolled her eyes and he quickly ducked outside before he broke into a wide smile. Sometimes, it paid to be able to double-team
kids.

  The thought caused him to pause before heading soundlessly into the dense wood. As a single mother, Rachel didn’t have anyone to count on when it came to raising Joey. She had to play the role of both parents.

  Was it any wonder she was so protective?

  He focused on the task at hand, moving slowly and methodically so he didn’t miss any signs now that it was daylight. The day was overcast, denying him the sunlight he would have preferred. He stood in the clearing, imagining that the log cabin was the center of a large clock with the south side, straight ahead from the door, at the twelve-o’clock position. He began to make his way around the circle.

  In the three-o’clock area, he found a tuft of brown fabric stuck to the tip of a branch that was roughly shoulder height. He stared at it for a long minute, trying to estimate how long it had been there.

  He could check the internet for how long it had been since the last snowfall, but he figured, from the dusting on the ground, that it had been within the past day or two. But if the snowfall had been light, the tuft of fabric might have survived intact.

  By December the gun deer-hunting season was over, but bow-hunting season lasted until January. Was it possible that someone dressed in camouflage-colored clothing had been through here recently, bow hunting? Uncle Wally’s land was posted, but considering no one had been up here lately, he figured the No Trespassing signs didn’t mean much.

  He wanted to believe there was a hunter in the woods rather than some other random person. Because if it wasn’t a hunter, then he was forced to consider the fact that this cabin might not be as safe as he’d thought.

  * * *

  Rachel finished the dishes and then went over to straighten up the quilts on the bed. Near the end table, she found an old Bible. Opening the flap, she was surprised to discover it belonged to Nick’s mother.

  She carried the Bible back to the main living area, wondering if Nick’s mother had left it here or if it belonged to Nick, himself? The book was clearly old and well used. The edges of the paper were gold and there were small cutouts for each of the Bible sections. In the center there was a place for family names and she discovered it had been filled in with neat handwriting stating the names of Nick and his two sisters.

  She hadn’t known about Nick’s sisters. And she realized there were probably a lot of things she didn’t know about Nick.

  Curious, she opened the book and scanned the various chapters. It wasn’t easy to decipher the meaning of the writing since, according to the title page, it was written in the Authorized King James Version.

  “What are you reading?” Joey asked, coming over to sit next to her on the sofa.

  She glanced down at her son, remembering the conversation he’d had with Nick before breakfast. It had nearly broken her heart to hear Joey describe how alone he’d felt in the dark room where Morales had kept him. She realized now that she’d done her son a disservice by not teaching him religion. “This is a Bible, which is a collection of God’s words,” she explained, hoping she was describing it right.

  “Are there stories in there?” he queried, leaning over to see for himself.

  “Yes, there are,” she replied, although she wasn’t sure exactly where they were. She vaguely remembered some Bible stories from her childhood, but how to find them in this huge book?

  She opened the Bible to the New Testament, and the pages opened to the Gospel according to Saint John. “‘In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God,’” she read out loud. Joey leaned against her, seemingly content so she continued, “‘The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life; and the life was the light of men.’”

  Soon, she got into the rhythm of the words, and the lyrical quality of the text helped her to relax. So intent was she on reading that she didn’t hear Nick return.

  When she glanced up, she saw him watching her, a gentle smile on his face. She stumbled over the next sentence and then stopped.

  “You sound like you’ve been reading the Bible your entire life,” he murmured, admiration reflected in his gaze.

  She felt herself blush. “I hope it’s okay that I’m reading your mother’s Bible,” she said. “I found it on the bedside table in our room.”

  “She’d be thrilled,” he assured her. “John’s Gospel is one of my favorites. Although you also might try the book of Psalms—those are where I go when I need to reconnect with God. Or we might want to review the Gospel surrounding the birth of Jesus, as that’s what Christmas is all about.”

  “All right,” she agreed, thinking that this was the first time in her entire life that she’d had a conversation about the Bible with a man.

  Actually, with anyone. Yet she found it wasn’t the least bit awkward, at least with Nick.

  Joey scrambled off the sofa and ran over to Nick. “Did you find any deer in the deer bed?” he asked, the Bible stories forgotten.

  “Nope, didn’t see any deer there today,” he said with a wry smile.

  She frowned and set the Bible aside. “What did you find?” she asked, sensing there was something bothering him.

  He shrugged. “Could be nothing, but I think I’ll call Jonah, just in case.”

  She did not like the sound of that. “Just in case what?”

  He hesitated. “Just in case the bit of fabric I found outside doesn’t belong to a hunter poaching on my uncle’s land.”

  * * *

  Nick tried Jonah several times before he connected with his friend. “I might need some backup,” he said bluntly.

  “What happened?” Jonah asked.

  In the background he could hear Mallory’s voice but not exactly what she was saying. “I found some fabric stuck to a tree branch about fifty feet from the cabin. Can’t be sure it’s a random hunter or someone who could have followed us.”

  There was a moment of silence. “I want to help you, Nick, but Mallory has been having contractions. She says it’s probably false labor, since she’s not due until next week, but I’m not willing to take the chance.”

  “Hey, no problem,” he hastened to assure his friend. “Stay with Mallory, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe you should call for backup? Or, find another place to stay,” Jonah suggested.

  “Yeah, maybe.” Neither option thrilled him. He trusted his boss but didn’t want to bring in anyone new. And if they left, he’d have to use his credit card, since he was almost out of cash. If the Mafia was involved, they likely had the ability to track them that way. Not to mention, he rather liked the coziness of the cabin. “Take care of Mallory, and call me if I’m going to be an honorary uncle.”

  “Nick, wait,” Jonah said, before he could hang up. “I did find something interesting. I know you weren’t keen on the Mafia angle, but guess who’s back in Chicago?”

  Nick rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Tell me you didn’t find Frankie Caruso.”

  “Bing, bing, bing—you win the grand prize,” Jonah joked.

  Nick could barely drudge up a smile. “Where was he spotted?”

  “That’s what was so interesting. He was at a fund-raiser put together by the mayor to raise money for diabetes research.”

  Diabetes research? “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, but check it out online if you need more information.”

  Another coincidence. “Why does the Chicago mayor care about diabetes?”

  “Because his wife was recently diagnosed with diabetes, and he thinks there should be more research into finding a cure.”

  “Okay, thanks for the heads-up,” Nick said. After ending the call, he crossed over to the table and booted up the laptop.

  He quickly pulled up a search engine and put in Caruso’s name alo
ng with the word fund-raiser. Sure enough, there he was standing next to the mayor and his wife.

  As he stared at the elder Caruso, he couldn’t help thinking that Rachel may have been right all along. Caruso might have been the mastermind behind Joey’s kidnapping. Seeing as he was such good friends with the mayor, it could be that Caruso wasn’t happy about Rachel’s failed diabetes medication. Could be that the mayor had a bone to pick with Rachel’s company, too.

  What better revenge than to kidnap her son, forcing her to sell off her shares of the company? And the added bonus? Making himself rich in the process.

  TWELVE

  Rachel could tell something was bothering Nick, but with Joey sitting right there, she was hesitant to ask too many questions about the investigation.

  “Mom, can I work on my deer carving?” Joey asked from his favorite spot on the sofa.

  “Deer carving?” she echoed with a raised brow. Nick’s sheepish expression gave him away. “You taught him to do that?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah. Hope you don’t mind.”

  She should mind, but oddly she was touched that he’d taken the time. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “My uncle taught me how to carve when I was about his age, and I stressed the importance of being careful with the knife.”

  “All right, go ahead, Joey.” At least carving would help keep her son occupied. She crossed the room to glance over Nick’s shoulder at the computer screen. Only to be distracted by the scent of his shaving cream. It was strangely comforting and she had to fight not to put her arms around him.

  Nick seemed impervious to her quandary. “Do you recognize anyone in the photograph?” he asked.

  Forcing herself to concentrate, she narrowed her gaze on the photo. Suddenly, her stomach clenched with recognition. She pointed at the screen. “Frankie Caruso.”

  “Yeah, with the Chicago mayor and his wife,” Nick murmured. “The mayor’s wife was recently diagnosed with diabetes, and this was a fund-raiser to support research for a cure.”