Rescuing His Secret Child

by Maggie K. Black

  She breathed a prayer of thanksgiving that Zander was tucked safely with her brother and Clark. The first-class car had both a large common lounge area and four cabins with doors that closed and locked, with seats that converted into beds. Her dislike of the showy politician who’d booked it notwithstanding, Zander was much safer there than with the regular passengers.

  “Stay calm.” The voice in her ear was low and menacing, with the hint of a fake and practiced smile. The man shifted his body so that the gun was slightly behind her and hidden by his jacket. Nobody else in the dining car seemed to have noticed. “Look straight ahead. Do exactly what I say, and nobody needs to get hurt.”

  His name was Mr. G. Grand. Or at least that was what his ticket had said when she’d checked it not ten minutes earlier on her pass through the dining car on the way to get her food cart. He’d boarded in Toronto and was riding the train all eight hours to Moosonee. Zander’s father used to say she had a photographic memory. It was more that she was good at paying attention to things and wasn’t quick to forget what she’d seen, which was handy when it came to keeping track of who’d actually booked a first-class ticket and who was just trying to sneak in.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, praying as she did so. The man’s movement had been so quick and smooth she hadn’t even realized what was happening until the gun was pressed against her. None of the passengers in the dining car had looked up or even moved a muscle.

  The young pair huddled to her left were Rowan and Julie Baker. Brother and sister, she thought and rather young for first class, and yet their tickets had checked out. His beard was scraggly, and her large glasses, pale hair and skin gave her a fragile quality. Neither, she imagined, would be much good in a crisis. The three burly, tattooed men to her right looked like they’d been in their fair share of fights. Though all had a twitchiness that didn’t fill her with much confidence.

  All five seemed oblivious to the man now standing behind her, whispering threats in her ear. If life had taught her anything, it was that most people were too caught up in their own stuff to even notice when anybody else needed them.

  Lord, I could really use some help right now.

  Her eyes scanned the empty window at the very end of the car. She thought she’d seen someone there a moment ago. A soldier. Tall, with short dark hair, broad shoulders and an oval face that somehow jarringly reminded her of the man she’d unrequitedly loved and then lost six years ago. Nick Henry. But Nick wasn’t a soldier. He was reckless, immature and the last person who’d ever come to her rescue.

  No, she was on her own. And the most important thing she could do now was to de-escalate the situation before anyone got hurt.

  “What do you want?” she asked softly, keeping her voice calm and clear.

  “You’re going to walk with me to the baggage compartment,” Mr. Grand whispered. “Nice and slow. No sudden movements. Then when we get there, you’re going to unlock one of the cabinets, take out a case and hand it to me.”

  A simple theft, then. The northern Ontario town and port of Moosonee, in the southern tip of James Bay, was the main access port to the Arctic and completely inaccessible by road. It was train, plane or nothing, which meant all sorts of packages and pieces of equipment were shipped by rail.

  The train company’s rules about robbery were clear. Staff was supposed to cooperate, to give the thief whatever was wanted and to remember that everything was heavily insured. There were sixty-seven passengers on the train right now and seven other train employees. No theft was worth risking all those lives. And yet the idea of letting some criminal just rob someone galled something inside Erica. She wanted to trip the closest security alarm. She wanted to pick up the entire serving cart, hurl it at his head and knock the gun from his grasp. But no. She’d put the lives of everyone on the train ahead of her own fighting instinct and do what needed to be done.

  “I’ll take it and get off at Coral Rapids,” he went on. “You will not alert anyone until the train has left the station for at least an hour.”

  Or what exactly? She nodded again so he’d think she was cooperating. But her mind spun, accessing the situation like she was back in math class and someone had just presented her with a logistics problem.

  Coral Rapids was a flag stop, meaning that someone had to actually have requested it. That also meant they were unlikely to pick up or drop off any other passengers there, especially at this time of night. After that, it was a three-hour nonstop run to Moosonee. Her eyes darted to the watch on her wrist. But Coral Rapids was twenty minutes away and it would only take a few moments to walk to the baggage car and unlock the cabinet.

  And why grab a train attendant in the dining car in front of potential witnesses? The train was nine cars long. The baggage car was at the very back, second to last and right before the rear engine. The dining car was third from the front, after the front engine and first-class car. Why make her walk all the way through several economy cars to get to the back of the train? Why not grab another member of the train staff? Preferably someone already in the rear engine car.

  She glanced at the security cameras. For that matter, how wasn’t anyone seeing this? There were camera feeds in both the front and rear engines.

  The gun pressed deeper. He leaned closer. “Do I have to tell you what will happen to your little boy if you don’t cooperate?”

  He knew about Zander!

  Fear poured over her limbs as tears rushed to her eyes. Was that why he’d nabbed her? Because he knew she was traveling with her son? She gritted her teeth and refused to let the tears fall. “I’ll cooperate.”

  “Okay, then, let’s go. Slowly.”

  She maneuvered her way around the cart, feeling Mr. Grand close behind her. Zander’s cheeky grin and bright green eyes filled her mind. In spite of his flaws, including a few youthful brushes with the law, mostly for brawling and causing a disturbance, Tommy was a devoted uncle. Her brother loved Zander and would keep him safe, despite the fact she occasionally had to rake Tommy over the coals for privately calling her son “the mistake.”

  True, falling into Nick’s arms that night had never been part of her plan—let alone what she’d imagined was God’s plan—for her life. She’d become pregnant at eighteen by an irresponsible young man who’d decided he’d rather disappear than step up.

  Zander’s birth had forced her to slow her Queen’s University criminology degree to just a single course a semester as she’d juggled part-time work and single motherhood to rebuild her life in a whole new town.

  According to Tommy, when he’d told Nick she was pregnant, Nick had denied the baby was his and told her brother to get lost. But still, if Zander’s father had been the one who’d taught her to be herself, to trust her instincts, to climb, fight and even to shoot, Zander was the one who’d taught her she was far stronger and more resilient than she’d ever imagined.

  She kept walking through the dining car, focusing on just taking one step after another.

  Keep it together, Erica. You’re not the cop or criminologist you once hoped to be. You’re just a train attendant with a job to do. Your son’s life and the life of every passenger on this train depends on you.

  The door slid open at the end of the car. But she barely had time to register the solider standing there, before a small boy in a heavy green vest and oversize military helmet darted out from behind the soldier and tried to run down the aisle toward her, even as the soldier shouted at him to stop.

  “Mommy, no!” Zander called. “He’s a bad man!”

  Her heart stopped, barely registering that the other five dining-car passengers had turned. Zander tripped from the weight of his incongruous military gear, tumbling over himself as he landed on the floor in front of her. His tiny chin shook as tears filled his eyes. She reached for him. Mr. Grand’s hand landed hard on her shoulder, pressing the gun deeper into her ribs, holding her in plac
e.

  “Please!” Her voice rose to a cry. “I need to help my son!”

  Then, even before she could blink, a second figure shot through the door. It was a soldier in the green military fatigues of the Canadian Armed Forces. His dark head bent low as he threw himself toward her little boy, sweeping him into his arms and cradling him protectively to his chest. The soldier dropped to one knee.

  A prayer of thanksgiving exploded through her chest. Then her son’s protector looked up, his piercing, deep green eyes rising to meet hers.

  It was Nick Henry.

  It was Zander’s father.

  He kept his right arm wrapped around Zander, pulled his service weapon with his left and aimed it at Mr. Grand.

  “Sir,” Nick said, “I don’t want to cause a scene, but I have to ask you to please raise your hands and step away from the lady.”

  Oh, Nick, I don’t know how or why you’re here but...

  The trio of burly men in plaid to her right rose sharply. The young couple to her left rose, too. One flick of Mr. Grand’s hand and all five pulled out guns and aimed them at the man she’d once loved and the son he’d chosen to abandon.

  They were surrounded.

  TWO

  As she watched, the three burly and tattooed men moved swiftly to lock both dining-car doors and keep anyone from entering or exiting. Nick tightened his grip on Zander, pulling him deeper into his chest. Suddenly it hit her—Nick must have given up his protective gear to shield Zander.

  A lump filled Erica’s throat. Nick was willing to take a bullet for the boy he’d apparently told her brother couldn’t possibly be his. Tommy had told him about Zander, right? Her brother was overprotective and could be a bit of a hothead, but he wouldn’t have lied to her about that. A thousand questions flooded her mind. But any answers would have to wait.

  She watched as Nick’s shoulders straightened. Gone was the cute, lanky farm boy with shaggy dark hair that flopped over his eyes, replaced instead by a man with a sharp military haircut and broad muscular chest that tapered to long, strong legs, now crouched to spring.

  But somehow, as he looked up at her, the half smile that brushed his generous lips was exactly the same as it’d always been.

  “Hey, Erica,” he said. His eyes lingered on her face but his gun was pointed directly and unwaveringly at the man behind her. “This is quite the boy you have here. He tells me he’s your son.”

  Her son. Not “theirs” in other words. She had no clue what to make of that. But Nick had always been both impetuous and reckless, and the last thing this situation needed was for him to suddenly discover that the five-year-old boy clutched to his chest was his son. There was no telling what Nick would do.

  Or what Mr. Grand would do...

  The thief’s five-person crew still surrounded them with their guns at the ready, presumably waiting for Mr. Grand to tell them what to do. But the tall, thin man had fallen silent. She imagined that whatever he’d planned hadn’t involved a standoff in the dining car with an armed soldier. But the longer they stalled, the more opportunity there was for someone in the rear engine, front engine or conductor’s booth to see what was happening on the cameras and take action.

  Erica nodded to Nick, finding no words up to the task of expressing anything she was thinking, and instead glanced down at her little boy.

  “Hey, Little Soldier,” she said softly. “You’re having quite the adventure tonight, aren’t you? Now, you stay still and quiet for Mommy, okay? Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay.”

  Zander nodded. His eyes met hers from the small gap between the military helmet and Nick’s strong arm. They were the same color as his father’s.

  “I told your son to stay behind me and out of the dining car,” Nick said. “But it appears he’s as headstrong as his mother.”

  And as impetuous and difficult as his father. What was Nick saying? That he’d had the ability to stop her son from being in danger and instead he’d let a five-year-old boy slip past him and run toward a gunman? Frustration burned in her gut. Nick’s outside shell might’ve matured and grown. But it seemed inside Nick was the same irresponsible guy who’d drunkenly slammed his older brother’s car into a tree.

  “Stand up, soldier,” Mr. Grand said. “Raise your hands and drop your weapon.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” Nick said calmly, “because it would mean letting go of this young man here and I’m not about to put him in danger. So, how about we all put our weapons down, you let his mother go and we find a way to settle this without anyone getting hurt?”

  There was something so incredibly gutsy about Nick’s calm and self-control, she didn’t know whether to be horrified or impressed. Her heart settled on a mixture of both.

  The young woman named Julie was shaking. Clearly whatever was going on, the waif-thin blonde had never held a gun before and wasn’t sure how to shoot it. Julie’s brother, Rowan, wasn’t doing much better although he was clutching the gun with two hands. They didn’t really seem like an obvious fit for a gang of thieves. But the tattooed trio looked like they wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through someone’s head.

  All this for a single case? Again, Erica’s eyes flickered to the security cameras and then to the door behind Nick. But still nobody came. Something was very wrong. Nick’s jaw set. He’d always had an indestructible quality to him. Like no matter what life threw at him, it just all bounced off, leaving him unscarred. Until that one night he’d told her about his sister’s murder and it was like he’d suddenly broken wide open... She blinked hard and forced the memory from her mind. No matter how strong Nick had seemed, he wasn’t bulletproof. And neither was their son.

  “How about this?” Nick asked. “I’ll drop my weapon if you agree to remove the woman and child from the equation. You let them go into the first-class car, put a guard on the door if it makes you feel any better, and I’ll put my gun down and we can talk.”

  So, Nick was going to go up against half a dozen armed criminals in exchange for her and Zander? He didn’t know the first thing about this train, how to get a case from the cabinet or even what Mr. Grand wanted. The Nick she’d once known and loved had been strong, brave, gutsy and daring. But he didn’t think, he didn’t plan and now he was going to get himself killed. She felt the train begin to slow. Coral Rapids was drawing closer.

  Nick’s legs flinched like he was preparing to take action.

  “Mr. Grand, you win!” Erica’s hands shot up high over her head. “Your deal is with me, not him. Leave Nick out of this. He can’t help you, but I can. The train is going to hit the next station in a few minutes. You’re in a hurry to grab that case and get out of here, and I’m still willing to take you to the baggage car and get it for you. If you knew I had a son, then you probably know his uncle is now with a friend in the first-class car. Let me take him there, leave him with them, and then we’ll walk back through the train together to the rear baggage compartment and get that case.” Her eyes cut to Nick’s face. She held his gaze in a vise grip.

  “Nick, let Zander go. I know exactly what Mr. Grand wants and how to get it for him. I don’t need your help.”

  Seconds ticked by. Nick’s head shook. His eyes implored her to trust him and to let him handle it. She knew that look and she’d done that once. She wouldn’t now.

  “Fine,” Mr. Grand grunted. He pointed to Julie, Rowan and a dark-haired thug with sunken cheeks. “You two and Lou come with me to drop off the boy with his uncle.” He nodded to the tallest thug and the bearded brute in turn. “Orson, Fox, stay here, keep an eye on our soldier and make sure he doesn’t get any bright ideas.”

  Oh, she imagined Nick had a ton of bright ideas. But she was also right, and she knew it. Mr. Grand stepped back. She knelt down and opened her arms for Zander. Nick let him go and the small boy slipped from his grasp and into her arms.

  “I found
a real soldier, Mommy,” Zander’s arms tightened around her. “A grown-up one. I got him to come help.”

  “You did a very good job.” She lifted him and hugged him to her chest.

  “Do you think he’ll let me keep the helmet and vest?” Zander asked.

  “I think he will for now.”

  “You can’t let the bad guys win, Mommy,” Zander whispered. “You’re really brave and strong.”

  His simple, childlike faith in her sent guilt stabbing her heart. Zander believed in her. What example was she setting by surrendering? And yet was there any possible way to stop the gang of thieves without putting Zander’s life at risk? No case was worth losing him over.

  They walked through the dining car, with her son in her arms, Mr. Grand leading the way and the three others to her back.

  There was one option—only one—and they’d have to be quick. There was a security-alarm button just above the doorway to the first-class train car. She couldn’t reach it. Not without being seen. But Zander could. She bent her head close to his and whispered, “Do you think when we go under the door you can press the red emergency button for me? Smack it really hard. I’ll tell you when. You’ll need to do it really sneaky and super fast.”

  Zander nodded seriously. She hugged him tightly.

  It was a risk she hated taking. But she couldn’t reach it without alerting attention. All it would take was a little jostle at the right moment and she could hoist Zander up high enough that he could do it. And that would be that. The alarm would sound. Conductors would come. Or at the very least, somebody would finally look at the security cameras, alert police and have them waiting for them when they pulled into the station.

  She’d use the distraction to sprint through the lounge area, clutching Zander to her chest, dive into the closest sleeper cabin, lock the door, hide under the sleeper chair with her son and pray for rescue. Yes, it would be putting their lives at risk. And she’d be leaving Nick alone and in the line of fire. But what other option did she have? Leave Zander with her brother and his insufferable friend while being guarded by armed criminals?