Protecting the Single Mom

by Catherine Lanigan

  They blended with the evergreens. Trent could tell from their nonchalant body language that they didn’t know they’d been spotted.

  Bob Paxton pulled his Beretta from his shoulder holster, then dropped to one knee, allowing Trent to take the lead. Trent moved in with panther-like stealth. He signaled to Sal Paluzzi to move forward and come from behind the trio. Trent took his gun from his shoulder holster. If these were Le Grande’s men, it was highly possible there would be gunfire. Trent didn’t plan on dying tonight.

  At times like this, Trent felt as if time stood still. He heard every insect buzz and rustle of each leaf. He heard birds half a mile away and the voices of the wedding guests below. Another cloud scudded across the moon, casting shadows across the terrain. He heard his heartbeat in his ears, and the blood in his veins felt like rushing spring rivers.

  The air seemed charged with electricity. Adrenaline did that to him.

  He often wondered if, at these moments of action, danger and possible death, he became more instinctual—nearly animal. More mechanical than man.

  Suddenly, the tallest of the perps halted the others and they stopped chatting. He looked around, realizing he was being hunted. He turned, and his eyes zeroed in on Trent.

  “Police!” Trent bellowed. “Freeze. Stay where you are!”

  All three perps stood stone still. Then they yelped almost in unison.

  That was when Trent lowered his gun. Their voices hadn’t even broken yet. “What are you kids doing out here?”

  Trent walked up to them in a few strides. Sal was behind them. Bob sauntered up, chuckling to himself.

  “Sir? We heard there was a weddin’ out here,” the tallest one said, his voice croaking, as he pulled his hoodie down to reveal a full head of recently barbered blond hair.

  These weren’t street kids. Probably neighbor boys. Curious. Having fun. Hoping to swipe a bottle of wine or beer at the end of the night.

  “How old are you, son?” Trent asked.

  “Fourteen,” the boy answered proudly.

  “And your parents live...?” Trent continued his interrogation with detached, professional cool.

  “I’m a half a mile over. The next farm up the country road. Johnson. You aren’t going to tell my pa, are you? He’d kill me. He’s really good friends with the Mattuchis.”

  “Hmm. And so your parents are at the wedding.” Trent pointed down the hill.

  “Yeah. Yes, sir.”

  “And these two are...”

  “My cousins from in town. They came out to spend the night. Their parents went to Chicago for the weekend. We didn’t know they’d have police out here. I mean, at a wedding? What for?”

  Trent didn’t like how smart the kid was. He was the kind who would rush to school and blab to all his buddies. Word that Trent’s team had been at the wedding would spread all over town by Sunday afternoon. He had to think fast.

  “Since your parents own a farm, then you know that trespassing is against the law. The Mattuchis have reported incidents of intruders lately.” Trent grabbed the kid by the collar and lifted him up, nearly out of his sneakers. “Would that be you?” he growled.

  “No, sir. No way!”

  The kid shook as if he were a puppet on a string.

  “Swear?”

  “I swear.”

  Trent looked at the other two boys. Sal moved over to the boy to the left and hovered. He breathed hard against the kid’s back. Bob grabbed the arm of the other one and squeezed.

  “What about these two? You kids into drugs? Trying to steal tools and rakes to pawn for some heroin?”

  “No, sir! I ain’t even had a beer yet! Tonight was supposed to be my first,” the youngest, who Trent guessed to be twelve or thirteen, squeaked nervously.

  Bob coughed. “We should take them in and book them. Call their parents home from Chicago.”

  “Please don’t do that, Officer,” the tall one said. “Please. Honest. We’re not criminals. We were just looking for some fun.”

  Trent released the kid and he stumbled forward. “Regulations say I have to take you in. The Mattuchis reported possible burglars, you three are here. Add it up. What do you get, kid?”

  “It’s not us!” they chorused.

  Sal backed away. “You won’t agree, Detective, but I believe them. These guys are just young and stupid. Besides, the farmhouse has camera surveillance. If they come back, we’ll have them dead to rights.”

  Trent paused for effect. Sal was smooth. “Here’s the deal.” Trent turned to the tall one again. “You kids go home. If we find out you’ve said a word of this incident to anyone—your parents, your friends, kids at school when you’re mouthing off trying to be hotshots—we’ll come back and throw the full weight of the law against you.”

  The tall one stared at Trent. “For real? You won’t tell my pa?”

  “No.”

  “Awesome.”

  Instantly, Trent stuck his face next to the kid’s. “You get this, mister, and get it good. There are consequences for every behavior. You have a consequence. You may not realize it now, or a year from now. But sometime in the future, if you don’t straighten up, you will have hell to pay. You got me?”

  “Sir.” The kid gulped and dropped his smile. “Yes, sir.”

  “Now leave,” Trent commanded.

  The three kids took off running across the top of the slope toward what he believed was the Johnson farm. For good measure, Trent would check out their story. If the Johnsons did own the next farm, most likely they were telling the truth.

  If not...he’d deal with that, too.

  * * *

  TRENT RETURNED TO the party while Sal and Bob remained in the shadows—watching.

  Cate sat next to Luke with Danny on her right. Next to Danny were Annie and Timmy. All three children were engaged in a lively conversation. Cate’s dinner plate was still mounded with food. Luke and Sarah had finished theirs, as had Mrs. Beabots. A server came up from behind and took their plates. Another server poured champagne in their glasses.

  Jack’s brother, Barry, rose from his chair at the head table and gave the best man’s toast. Everyone applauded, including Trent.

  He circled the perimeter of the patio and stood far enough behind Cate to keep an eye on her. She hadn’t seen him approach. But he noticed that rather than listening to the speeches, Cate looked around. She rubbed the back of her neck, then hugged herself. She shoved her arms down and put her hands in her lap. Then she lifted her hand and toyed with her fork.

  She was nervous. Worried.

  Was she worried for him?

  The bride and groom cut their wedding cake, and the band started playing “Night and Day” while Jack and Sophie danced their first dance.

  A photographer nearly bumped into Trent as he hustled across the expanse.

  Trent saw Danny, Annie and Timmy huddle together, giggle and then race over to the cake table to be the first in line.

  Luke reached his arm around his wife and pulled her close. He kissed her temple and then her lips. Trent never thought he’d be envious of another man’s life, but he was now. Luke was a military man. Married to the love of his life with two great kids. The guy had the world by the tail.

  Trent could only dream about that kind of scenario.

  Or could he?

  Trent walked to the table and eased into the chair Danny had left. “Luke, why don’t you dance with your beautiful wife? I’ll watch over Cate from here.”

  “Good plan,” Luke said eagerly, and held Sarah’s chair for her.

  Sam Crenshaw came over to the table and asked Mrs. Beabots to join him and Gina at their table. Then he promised her a dance, as well.

  “You don’t mind, do you, dear?” Mrs. Beabots said to Cate and Trent.

 
“Please, join your friends,” Trent replied.

  “Why aren’t you two dancing?” Sam asked, and then urged them by pointing at the dancers. “It’s too beautiful a night to waste it sitting on the sidelines.” He winked at Trent.

  “Uh...” Cate looked at Trent, but all he saw was trepidation.

  “I’m game if you are,” he said.

  “Well, all right.” She rose from her chair.

  Trent walked behind her onto the dance floor. He took her hand and put his other one on her back. The music was romantic, and the night air felt like cool silk. And Cate felt perfect against him.

  “Where did you go off to?” she asked.

  “It was nothing. Some kids—joy riding without the car.”

  “Huh?”

  “Three boys looking for mischief.” He chuckled. “They reminded me of me when I was fourteen.”

  “Were you a hell-raiser?” She looked at him as if the answer were important to her.

  “No. But I was always taking risks to help others. Once there was a flash flood when I’d been on the riverbank camping with some buddies. The rains north of us had been a deluge, but we didn’t know it. We’d been too busy telling tall tales around the campfire. Drinking beer we’d taken from one of my friends’ houses. I can’t remember which one.

  “The water appeared in seconds. Fortunately, I woke up first and ordered the others to hurry up the bank to the highest part of the hill. I was trying to rescue our tent and not doing a very good job of it, when I heard a woman screaming. She was trapped in the water, flailing her arms around. She yelled at me that she couldn’t swim. Without thinking, I dived in and got her to shore.”

  “That was really brave,” she said with a touch of awe in her voice.

  “Or stupid. But I’ve been doing that kind of thing ever since. I wanted to save the world. I still do.”

  “The world is a big place.”

  “And it needs saving.”

  Trent didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman as beautiful as Cate. Reflected lights from above glittered in her hair as if she’d been struck by fairy dust. It wasn’t just her physical beauty, but something from inside that shone through her eyes. She was strong. Determined. Intelligent and caring. She cared about her town enough to risk her own life. Sure, he did the same thing, but it was part of his job. He was different. Most importantly, he was different around her.

  He tugged her a bit closer, and she flinched. “What’s that?”

  He realized she’d bumped his shoulder holster. Of course she would feel it being this close.

  “Sorry. I’m packing.”

  She looked away anxiously. “Oh. I forgot.”

  And there it was. Tonight, she’d been pretending that she wasn’t in danger. She’d taken a holiday from her situation.

  He, on the other hand, was here as her bodyguard. Her protector. He was aware of every snap of a twig. Every light that flickered in the distance—wondering if someone with a flashlight or laser gun was out there waiting.

  He held her with one arm while adjusting the holster with the other. Then he pressed her to him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. “Is that better?”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you’re here to...to take care of things. But while we are dancing, it all seems sweet, sort of like the senior prom I never got to go to.”

  “You never went to your prom?”

  “No. I had Brad.”

  “Oh.” His head jerked back as if he’d been shot. He knew her history, but it came at him differently hearing details like this.

  The song blended into another Cole Porter tune that kept them holding each other. Trent didn’t know where the notes ended or the next song began. All he knew was that he was holding Cate. It was his turn to get lost in the magic of the night.

  He heard the guests as they left the dance floor, got up from their tables and the metal chairs scraped the patio. The music kept playing and lulled him into a dream...

  The explosion came from the distance.

  And Trent was—back there.

  An IED.

  That’s what it had to be. Or a land mine. Had one of his men left the safe area?

  Another explosion. Then another. He heard shouting.

  It was one of his men. Shot. Screaming. Bleeding. Dying.

  Trent braced. He had to save them. All of them. It was up to him. It was always up to him.

  He tasted Afghanistan dirt and sand. That awful fine-grain sand that cut like a razor. God. He hated that country. Hated the terrorists who stole lives as if it was their right. Fanatics were always part of human history, no matter the era or age, but Trent wanted to annihilate them and change the course of history.

  “Trent!” Cate shouted. “Trent! Please. What are you doing? You’re hurting me!”

  “What?” He blinked. Once. Twice. It wasn’t an IED. It was fireworks. Party fireworks for a wedding. That’s all it was. He was in Indian Lake, not Afghanistan.

  Cate broke away from him, pushing her palms against his chest. He had her in stronghold. Trying to keep her still. His hands were on her upper arms, holding her in a tight grip.

  “Cate. I’m sorry. I—I...”

  “What happened just then?” Her gaze bore into him. “You didn’t hear me. You were...you were someplace else.”

  “I know.”

  “You do? Then what is it?”

  It was the reason he could never let himself love any woman. It was the harpy that kept him cut off from people he wanted in his life. It was the monkey on his back.

  And there was nothing he could do.

  “Cate. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this.”

  “Done what? Hurt my arms?”

  “Yes. No. Dance with you. I’m here as a police officer. I shouldn’t have let myself...go like that. I just can’t.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, stepping away from him.

  That’s good, he thought. She should keep her distance. I can be a monster. One day my mind may snap and I may never come back, but I can’t tell her that. Can’t tell anyone that.

  That was Trent’s greatest fear—that he would lose his mind and live forever in the war. A prison with no bars and no escape.

  He looked at her. “The party is over. You need to get Danny and Mrs. Beabots and go home. I’ll follow in my car. I’ll watch your house all night.”

  She rubbed her sore arms. He hoped he hadn’t bruised her, but he knew he probably had.

  “Okay,” she said, and walked away calling Danny’s name.

  Trent felt a cold breeze cross his face as she left. And he was alone—again.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  FOR THREE DAYS after the wedding, Cate had struggled with a sticky web of thoughts, assumptions and assessments about her feelings for Trent. One minute she was gooey with romantic visions, and the next she was ensnared, like a spider’s prey, in a cocoon of distress.

  Trent had unnerved her in the same way that Brad had right after they’d married. Back then, she’d thought she knew the man she loved, but she hadn’t seen his dark side. It had snuck up from behind, stealthily, like a silent monster and grabbed her unaware. All these years, she’d promised herself she’d never fall into that trap again.

  Trent wore honor and righteousness like a badge. Protection and kindness oozed from him, but as she’d let herself believe she might have feelings for him, possibly even be falling in love with him, his true self had been exposed.

  Cate realized now that Trent wrestled with demons. He was a good man. Yet there was something he was hiding. There had to be a reason he shied from relationships, but she felt his need to love.

  If Trent wasn’t ready to reveal his problems, then it wasn’t her place to investigate. Perhaps he
didn’t trust her with his truths. Maybe he thought he’d jeopardize his case against Brad. Maybe he was beginning to have feelings for her in return. Maybe they both knew it best to keep their emotions dialed down.

  Cate started making Danny’s lunch for school.

  Danny poured milk on his cereal and crunched happily while listening to the morning weather report on the television.

  Boy, she’d really set herself up for that one, she chastised herself as she made his sandwich. She must have some kind of bad-boy homing device implanted in her psyche. If there was a troubled man within twenty miles of her, she managed to find him.

  What was there about her that drew these men to her?

  “Mom. Mom?” Danny said, getting out of his chair and standing at her elbow. “Why are you putting ketchup on my sandwich?”

  Cate looked at the bread. Instead of mayo, she’d smeared the bread with the ketchup she’d intended to add to the baked beans she was making in the slow cooker. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll start over.”

  Danny frowned slightly. “I can do it.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve got this,” Cate assured him, forcing a smile.

  Danny put his hand on her forearm. “Are you worried about me again?”

  She looked into his upturned face. The summer freckles across his nose had faded now that the days were growing shorter and colder. Danny, Timmy and Annie had already turned to indoor play after school, but Cate couldn’t blame all of it on the weather. They stayed indoors because they were afraid. All three kids knew about the police car down the block. As much as Cate, Sarah and Luke assured the kids that they were protected, the kids would feel the strain until it was over and Brad was in jail.

  She felt it, too.

  “I’m always worried about you. Things are just a bit more intense now, that’s all.”

  “I’m not worried,” Danny said confidently. “Trent will take care of everything.”

  “You think so?”

  “Sure, Mom. Don’t you?”

  “I do.” She nodded quickly and fought back her trepidation. She kissed his cheek.

  “Yeah,” Danny said, putting his arms around her neck. “I trust him.”