Digitalis

by Ronie Kendig

  “Because I can’t wait until I’m dead and buried to get it!” His mother laughed as she held her granddaughter close.

  “Look, Nana. I got this at the mall from Piper.”

  Dawg, she starts fast. He hoisted the box up and corrected his daughter. “Miss Blum.”

  His mother’s eyebrow arched. “Miss Blum?”

  “She was a really pretty lady, even Daddy said so. She helped me when Daddy was lost. Then she had lunch with us. But she gave me this bag.” Mickey took a breath, then rushed on.

  Seizing the chance during his daughter’s ramblings, Colton escaped into the house with the box. His mother and Mickey had more in common than any granddaughter and grandmother should. Inquisitive nature, incessant chatter, and relentless nagging.

  He left the box by the living-room entrance, where his father would spend the next day or two assembling it, and strode into the kitchen. Not that Colton minded helping, but his dad enjoyed doing things like this. Made him feel useful, he said. After pouring a glass of iced tea, Colton grabbed a roll from a bread basket and stuffed several pieces of ham into it.

  “Who is this Piper Blum, and why is she giving McKenna gifts?” His mother’s folded arms and deep-brow scowl reeked of jealousy.

  Colton almost laughed. “Your granddaughter was lost at Hastings. Miss Blum found her, and Mickey was upset, so she gave her a gift.”

  Her expression didn’t change. She moved to the counter and began wiping down the mess he’d made with his sandwich. Towel tossed down, she planted a hand on her hip and shifted to him. “Why’d you have lunch with her?”

  Colton nearly choked. Pounding a fist against his chest, he coughed to clear his throat. “It wasn’t what you think. Mickey insisted that—”

  Brr. Brr. Brrr.

  He yanked his phone from the holster. When he saw the coded message, he planted a kiss on his mom’s head. “Don’t get any ideas. Lunch was merely a thank-you gesture. She’s not a love interest or any other type of interest.” He stomped down the side hall to his bedroom at the back of the house.

  His mother called after him, “It wouldn’t hurt you to take some kind of interest in a woman.”

  With a smile, he swung his door shut, then dragged his rucksack from the top shelf in the closet, his mind already on the new mission. Adrenaline surged through his veins. Where would they head this time? What adversary had popped his head up and proved too volatile for traditional military tactics? He lived for the missions, for Nightshade.

  God, protect me and mine.

  Getting caught meant death.

  But she had no choice. Piper hit SEND and sat back against the hard chair in the law library. Hand on a textbook, she stared at the words in the pretense of reading and turned a page. Her gaze skittered between the text in the book and the glare of the monitor, waiting.

  Minutes passed. Nothing.

  Piper glanced at her watch. Checked the aisle to the right where mammoth oak bookcases stretched until they seemed to bleed into one another. To the left. She barely saw the edge of the main door. She shouldn’t have sat this close. Too exposed. Someone could see her.

  The Web site sat, staring back at her, lifeless, as if expecting her to do what a normal person would do—click on a link. Maybe she’d misread the note. She dug it out of her jeans pocket and smoothed the crumpled paper. Scanning the message, she read through the obvious to the code. Nonsensical code that demanded another level of deciphering to reach the intended message.

  Today was the twenty-sixth of January, wasn’t it? She flipped open her phone and checked the calendar. Yes. The twenty-sixth.

  Another minute vanished. The Web page remained unchanged. Her heart worked a little faster. What if something had happened? Her mind galloped through scenarios. Had he been caught or arrested—or worse?

  No. She had to keep hope alive.

  She stared at the screen. An online pizza shop in SoHo. The site the griefer had given her. She double-checked the URL. Yes, it was correct. So, what was wrong? Why wasn’t it—

  A large spaceship suddenly slid across the lead banner. Lights around the top dome flickered, sending out distressing strobes of light. She blinked quickly. Letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d held, Piper smiled. She clicked on the pepperoni slice and logged in, using the provided code. If it all worked right …

  Shepherd: Hello?

  Her heart jolted at the simple greeting waiting as soon as the black page loaded. She typed back:

  Ewe: Vegetarian pizza, please.

  Shepherd: *smile* So glad to hear your voice.

  Relief flooded her at the response. Quickly, she pecked on the keys.

  Ewe: The joy is mine. How are you?

  Shepherd: Yeshua is with me. You?

  Ewe: Sad. Lonely. Praising Him for griefers. *smile*

  Shepherd: As am I. It will not be long.

  Her pulse raced. How could he promise that?

  Ewe: Have you found a way?

  Shepherd: In time, my precious. In time. Be strong. Keep your eyes open, watchful. Do not trust easily.

  Ewe: What is wrong?

  Shepherd: They close in, but I … I will be fine. Must go. Keep the Faith!

  Ewe: Love you!

  Shepherd: And I you.

  Piper sat staring at the dialogue as it faded from the screen along with dozens of green Martians, handiwork of a griefer named Shu Tup. In the world of griefers, little truth existed except the fact that their kind thrilled on causing angst to Web site owners and gamers. Getting paid to set up the rendezvous sites with her father was just an added bonus to her cyber friend.

  But the conversation had been entirely too short. As she X-ed out of the browser, the ache to be with her father, to hug him, to hear his gruff but kind voice overtook her. Tears streamed down her face. She despised having to speak to him in code. Anger chipped at her courage. She wanted his warm arms around her. To feel his beard against her cheek.

  “Excuse me?” The masculine voice stabbed her alert.

  Spine rigid, Piper pushed herself up in the chair and swiped at her tears, keeping her face down. “Yes?” She slapped her books closed and grabbed pens and pencils, using her hair to shield her wet face from the man standing beside her.

  “Are you using the terminal? I need to do research.”

  “Sure. Okay.” Books gathered, she nudged back the chair and rushed from the hall. She had to be more careful. Sitting there pining over things she couldn’t change left her vulnerable and brainless.

  Out in the warm night, she hugged the books to her chest, still riding the high of knowing that, at this very moment, her father was still alive! Giddiness wove a sickening concoction in her belly. The last few weeks had taken their toll as reports of unrest in their homeland consumed the news. Unable to talk to him on a regular basis, she had to settle for nights like this. Nights when thirty seconds of conversation would have to hold her for months.

  A block from her apartment, she stopped at a convenience store and grabbed an energy drink and a fruit bar. Anything to help her stay up studying. With finals in a month, she didn’t have time to lose. The adrenaline from the online rendezvous was bottoming out, and exhaustion gripped her in a tight vise. If she went home and tried to study without a sugar rush, she’d be face down in her books within minutes.

  As she waited in line, she noticed a keychain with a small pink poodle on it. A little girl’s round blue eyes filtered into her mind. Piper tugged it from the rack, smiling as she remembered McKenna … and her father. Handsome Colton Neeley. She’d had to feign ignorance on his name, but she’d watched intently each time he’d scribbled his name over the credit card slip. Strong hands. Callused. Hard working. He fit the tall, dark, and handsome bill to a T. What would it be like to be in his arms? Fire raced through her cheeks. Her father would surely send her to the scriptures again for that thought.

  As if Bapa forgot about the Song of Solomon, the ultimate love letters.

  Piper paid for her ite
ms and hurried from the store, her mind still on the charming stranger. She’d hoped that he’d come into the store to see her, but he’d always had a ready explanation for each purchase. Yet he’d given himself away at the mall. She sighed, her breath swirling in the chilly night air.

  The last few feet to her apartment sent fear racing up her spine. She swallowed as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Hesitation pushed her gaze around the street, stabbing the corners where the shadows hid from the light. She spotted her elderly neighbor sitting in her rocking chair. Somehow, the three steps up to her door and the yellow hue of the porch light gave the woman a creepy appearance, almost as if she were glowing.

  Piper waved as she passed the woman’s section of the building. “Evening, Mrs. Calhoun.”

  “Out late, aren’t you, dear?”

  “A little.” Unable to shake the unease, Piper quickened her pace and rushed to her door. “Have a good evening.” She scanned the jamb, spotted the twine stretched over the lower corner, and jabbed the key into the lock. Inside, she spun the locks and whipped the chain into place before she blew out a breath.

  Once she dumped her books and bag on the small, cedar table, she withdrew her small flashlight-mace combo and walked the tiny apartment—but her gaze quickly pounced on the answering machine. Disappointment sagged within her. Would Colton ever call to ask her out?

  She refocused on her apartment. The sliding glass door. The kitchen window. Her bedroom door. No need to worry about the bed since there was no “underneath” to conceal a predator. She eased into the room and spotted the blinking sensor sitting on the windowsill. Checked the closet.

  Satisfied, she flipped on the light and grabbed a pair of shorts and a shirt from the dresser. She sat at the kitchen table minutes later and opened the energy drink. Over the next four hours, she studied case law and procedures pertinent to economics. Despite the sugar overload, seconds took on the weight of hours, and by midnight, the sharp claws of sleep scratched at her resolve for an all-nighter. With a long day of work ahead, she headed to the bathroom.

  Bent over the sink, she washed her face and groped for the hand towel on the counter … but it wasn’t there. She blinked through the water. Where did it go? Finally, she saw it on the vinyl floor.

  Piper froze, her mind whipping through her walk-through protocol. Nothing had been out of place. Had it? No. It hadn’t. With a huff, she snatched a clean towel and dried off.

  She grabbed her flashlight-mace from the table—and the poodle keychain caught her eye. She picked it up and placed it on her nightstand. Alarm set, she slid under the sheets and reached for the light and turned it off. Would she have the chance to give the poodle to McKenna? Why hadn’t he called yet? Maybe he’d changed his mind.

  She groaned and rolled over. Good things didn’t come to her. They never had. Only pain and the opportunity, as her father said, to be longsuffering. She shouldn’t expect anything different. Besides, relationships were only entanglements that endangered lives. No way would she do that to the beautiful blond girl and her handsome father. She wanted a happy ending. Not a nightmare. And the people hunting her father would stop at nothing to kill him.

  “Showers’re out,” Max growled as he pushed through the front doors of the base.

  Colton glanced down at his muddied duds, considered the stench that seemed to lift like steam from the caked-on earth, and huffed. He got to be Swamp Thing for the next hour—and pray hard his truck didn’t soak up too much of the odor.

  The trip home carried him down the highway—the one that passed the mall, the mall with Hastings, where Piper worked. For two seconds, he entertained rushing in and just buying … towels. His mom needed some new towels. Hastings had new towels.

  “No!” He wrapped his fingers tightly around the steering wheel and kept driving. Even with the vents open, the unique swamp odor wafted around him. He twitched his nose and rolled down the window. Good thing he’d opted to head home. If he hadn’t already scared Piper off a month ago during the impromptu lunch with Mickey, he would with his Eau de Jungle.

  When he pulled into the drive, he slowed at the sight of a blue sedan. Whose car was that? Was his mother having company? Finally resuming her ladies’ afternoon tea?

  He eased his truck around the vehicle and parked in his usual spot at the back. Although his parents loved entertaining, they’d done little since moving to Virginia two years ago. Hard to do when living forty-minutes outside city limits. From his truck bed, he grabbed his gear, then stomped up the side porch, thanking the good Lord he’d built the addition at the back of the house. If Mama did have company, she’d light into him for coming home like this.

  He stepped onto the hardwood floor and paused to ease the screen door shut. Spicy smells embraced him as he dropped his gear. The taunting aroma of lasagna and bread drifted down the hall from the kitchen, making his stomach grumble and his mouth water.

  He frowned. Must be really special guests. Had the pastor come to call?

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Mickey sprinted around the corner, her face beaming.

  Yeah. This is what kept him going, made him feel like life was worth living. “Hey, darlin’.” He knelt and swept the sweet-smelling bundle into his arm. “I sure missed you.”

  She threw her arms around him—and jerked back. “Ew!” She pinched her nose. “You stink.”

  Colton snorted. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my new cologne?” He tickled her, eliciting peals of laughter that did his soul good. That helped him remember that no matter how bad it got out there, he had this to come home to.

  “What are you doing here looking and smelling like a sewer rat?” His mother’s words assailed him with their intensity and pitch.

  “Didn’t have a choice. Showers were broke.” He stood and moved toward his mother. “Come here. I’ll give you a hug you’ll never forget.”

  She flapped a towel at him. “Get lost, Colton Benjamin!”

  He grinned—then froze, a full view of the kitchen. And another person. A woman. A tall, beautiful woman. Chest tight, he cleared his throat and nodded at her. “Piper.”

  CHAPTER 3

  He looked wonderful. He looked terrible.

  Piper let a tremulous smile into her lips. “Hello, Colton.” She thought of the moment he’d asked her to use his first name, and how comforting it felt as she’d said it.

  Slowly, he backed up, his gaze still riveted to hers. “If you’ll excuse me.” He looked at his mom. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

  Hesitation crept over Mrs. Neeley’s face for a second, then twitched away beneath her always-present smile. “McKenna, why don’t you show Piper your princess dishes in the kitchen?”

  Piper felt the little girl’s fingers wrap around her own, but the expression in Colton’s face pinched her stomach together, making it impossible to look away. He wasn’t happy about her presence. Disappointment clogged the thrill of seeing him.

  “What’s wrong with you?” His mom’s terse voice darted out, just above a whisper.

  “I’ve told you before, don’t bring anyone here unless you clear it with me first. There are …”

  His words faded, but not the rebuke. He’d aimed it at his mother, but the words had stabbed Piper right through the heart. So. His not calling her had been intentional. He didn’t want a date with her.

  “C’mon, Piper!” McKenna tugged on her.

  When she took one last glance down the hall, her gaze collided with Colton’s. His crystal blues held hers as if sending a silent message. What that message was, she couldn’t decipher. But his words had left no doubt. He didn’t want her here. With a shake of his head, he turned and clomped down the hall, his broad shoulders drooped.

  McKenna jerked hard, pulling Piper into the kitchen, where she opened a cabinet. “Look, we got them at the princess palace!”

  Piper tried to redirect her focus onto the pink, sparkly dishes. “They’re so pretty.” But her attention was still hung up on the horrible mi
stake she’d made in letting Mrs. Neeley talk her into coming for dinner. It’d seemed like an answer to prayer. A hope so deep and desperate she’d ignored good, common sense.

  His eyes had pervaded her thoughts last night, and the resounding bass of his laugh rumbled through her dreams. Anticipating a phone call or answering machine message had gotten her through the first week or ten days following their mall encounter. After that, she started losing hope, wondering if she’d misread the twinkle that had made her stomach queasy—and found herself stranded on Desperation Island.

  She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated with herself. What was wrong with her? Mooning over a man who didn’t reciprocate admiration and respect. Oh just be honest—the attraction, too. She had to hand it to him. Hands down, he was the most gorgeous man she’d met, with his barrel-thick chest and long legs, the trimmed-close hair.

  And the dimples. Yeshua should never have done that to a woman. Adam probably had dimples—and that’s what made Eve lose her mind over a stupid piece of fruit. Probably concentrating so hard on the dimples she didn’t realize her folly.

  If only the Fall could be explained so easily. Or her own stupidity.

  Just leave. Make it easy on everyone. Yes. Yes, she could grab food from Mr. Tang’s on the way home and wallow in her own pity. Just like every Saturday night.

  “Honestly,” Mrs. Neeley said as she entered, her words weaker than before. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s never come home like that.”

  Piper stole a glance at his mother as she went to the sink and washed her hands. In jeans and a short-sleeve sweater with appliqués, Mrs. Neeley stood several inches shorter than Piper’s own five-nine, but there wasn’t an ounce of average in the woman. Even though the cinnamon-colored hair was perfectly coiffed, Piper knew it was colored. But tastefully. Like everything the matriarch did. She had it together. A husband, a home, family, and everything else Piper didn’t have that she so earnestly wanted.