“They are.” He’d never seen two finer examples of Christians. “They were in the process of making retirement plans when my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and my grandmother had a stroke. So a year ago, they put their travel plans on hold and moved to upper New York to care for my grandparents.”
Liam raised his arms toward Jasmine. The softest whisper reached Colton’s ears.
His pulse kicked into overdrive. “Did he just say something?”
“I think he said ‘more.’”
Colton scooped him up and spun him around, heart still pounding. “You want more? Sorry, buddy, you hung them all up.”
Liam’s thumb went into his mouth, but the vacancy Colton had grown accustomed to seeing in his eyes wasn’t there. Instead, they sparked with life. He moved to the couch and sat, positioning his son on his lap facing the tree. “You did such a good job. That’s the prettiest Christmas tree ever.”
The thumb came out, and Liam pointed toward the tree. Colton’s heart sang. If the smile had been a small step, the single word had been a giant leap.
When he shifted his gaze to Jasmine, she was watching him. For one unguarded moment, he saw in her eyes the same wistfulness he’d heard in her tone. But there was something else, too. Longing. It threaded a path right to his heart.
The next moment, it was gone, hidden behind that veil of self-sufficiency that seemed to always cloak her. She moved to the front window next to the tree and pulled the drapes aside. “They’ve got the posts and top rail up and are starting to run the fence.”
“Good.” He tamped down whatever it was he’d felt moments earlier. Her rotten childhood, the traumas she’d faced as an adult—they were none of his business. Just as his personal struggles were none of hers.
He joined her at the window. He didn’t envy the men their job. Mixed in with the rich topsoil and clay were varying sizes of rocks. Lots of them. He’d learned that when Mandy had wanted decorative ornamentals planted around the house. Of course, the men currently working outside were professionals and far better equipped than he’d been.
The ringtone sounded on his phone. The screen displayed a familiar number. He swiped it and greeted his brother.
Static interrupted Cade’s voice. “I’ve wanted...several times...insane hour.”
Colton stepped outside, even though the problem was likely on Cade’s end. “Where are you?”
“Egypt...driving...Cairo.”
“Your satellite cell service stinks.”
“Hold on.”
Colton waited. When Cade came back on, the background noise he’d heard earlier was gone. So was the majority of the static.
“That’s much better.” He’d apparently stopped, maybe even gotten out of the vehicle and climbed a hill. If the area surrounding Cairo had hills. Colton wouldn’t know. His brother was the world traveler.
“I’ve wanted to call several times, but it’s always been some insane hour in the States. Are you and Liam okay?”
He leaned against the deck railing. “We’re fine. We’ve had a couple of small scares, but nothing came of them.”
“What kind of scares?” Worry laced Cade’s tone, strongly enough that the thousands of miles separating them didn’t dilute it.
“Someone cutting across the yard, which we decided was probably a teenager from the neighborhood.”
“And?”
“And someone hanging out near the park yesterday afternoon and the Christmas Art Walk last night. I don’t think he posed any threat.” No sense in saying otherwise. None of this was Cade’s deal. Half a world away, he couldn’t do anything about it anyway.
“You’ve got to stay away from Atlanta.”
Colton lifted his brows at the urgency in his brother’s tone. His philosophy in life had always been “Nothing’s gonna happen.” Apparently, he wasn’t so optimistic when his nephew’s safety was at stake.
“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere near there until whoever tried to take Liam has been locked up.”
“Good.” Cade heaved a sigh of relief. “You know, I already miss the little guy.”
“Look at the bright side. There’s no one to spill juice all over you.”
Cade’s laughter held a heavy dose of affection. “Would you believe I even miss the mishaps?”
The last mishap had given Cade a lot more time with his nephew than he’d planned. The evening before the break-in and attempted kidnapping, Cade had stopped by for dinner, then ended up spending the night after Liam had loosened the top on his sippy cup and spilled the entire contents over him. Colton had loaned him some sweats and thrown both shirt and pants into the washer before the red juice could leave a stain.
Cade continued, his tone turning from playful to eager. “So how are things progressing with the hot bodyguard? It’s been a week. I hope you’ve moved from the protector/protectee relationship to something much more interesting.”
Colton groaned. After his meeting at Burch Security Specialists, he’d filled Cade in on the fact that his pretty neighbor was going to be the one providing the bodyguard services. Maybe he should have kept that detail to himself.
“Our relationship is strictly professional, as it will remain.”
Sure, he admired her. Although she hadn’t elaborated, she’d provided enough hints for him to know she hadn’t had an easy life. But she’d survived whatever rough upbringing she’d had. Not just survived. Overcome.
She was strong, physically and emotionally. She’d risked her life serving her country and continued putting herself in danger serving those she protected. But she had no problem setting aside that strength and toughness to comfort a frightened little boy.
Yeah, he admired her. But that was as far as it would go. From what he’d gathered, Jasmine wasn’t any more in the market for a relationship than he was.
Cade heaved a sigh. “Whatever. But I think you’re passing up a golden opportunity.”
When Colton didn’t respond, Cade let the subject drop. “I’ve got to get to an appointment.” The same urgency entered his tone. “No matter what, don’t go back home. You’ve got to stay in Murphy. You hear me?”
“Yeah, loud and clear.” Something dark fell over him, drawing his stomach into a knot. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m just worried. Somebody’s threatening my nephew. Stay away from Atlanta. Lie low. Keep Jasmine close, Liam closer.” A hum came through the phone. Cade had apparently gotten back in the car and cranked the engine. “I’ll call you in a couple days.”
The line went dead. Colton looked at his phone, brows dipping together. What was up with his brother? He never stressed about anything, even when stress was warranted. He took the adage “Don’t worry, be happy” to extremes.
But no one had ever threatened Liam before. Cade obviously wasn’t handling it any better than Colton was. Colton wasn’t surprised. He and his brother were close, in spite of their differences. But if not for Cade’s desire to talk to his nephew every week or two, the adults’ interactions wouldn’t be nearly as frequent.
He pushed himself away from the railing. The men were unrolling chain-link fence, affixing it to the framework they’d already installed. By the end of the day, they’d be finished. Brutus would be back outside with free run of the entire yard. Anyone trying to approach the house would find himself with a bite-size chunk taken out of his rear end.
The thought brought him some comfort. But not enough to soothe the lingering anxiety that still coursed through him.
He stepped back inside, where Liam was stuffing empty ornament boxes into a bag that Jasmine held open. A few minutes earlier, the sight would have warmed him. But a cold knot of worry had settled in his chest.
He didn’t plan to go back to Atlanta anyway. But Cade’s dire warnings had shaken him.
Was Cade afraid that if they returned, the ki
dnappers would try again? Or was it more than that?
Maybe someone got to him. Maybe before Cade left town, the kidnappers made some kind of threat.
And Cade was trying to protect him, to keep him from worrying.
It wasn’t working.
Unfortunately, Cade’s silence was doing just the opposite.
* * *
Jasmine fought the urge to retch. There was smoke, dust, screams.
And blood. So much blood.
Zach lay on the ground, clutching his stomach, his wails fraying her nerves. She added her own hands to the gaping wound, trying to help stanch the stream of blood. It didn’t help. The river kept flowing, warm and sticky.
She’d been standing in front of him moments earlier. They’d kissed goodbye, then walked opposite directions to get ready to report for duty.
Then there was a shout of warning and the sound that struck terror deep into the core of every soldier—the whistle of an incoming mortar round. The nearby blast knocked her to the ground. When she’d gathered her wits enough to rise and search for Zach, the scene before her was what she’d found.
“Hang on, Zach. Help’s coming.”
But it was hopeless. She’d encountered Death enough times to know when it had gone from crouching at the door to leaping over the threshold.
Zach went suddenly still, eyes no longer focused. She opened her mouth, her own wail traveling up her throat. A warning sounded deep in her subconscious, and she squeezed off the scream.
A hand gripped her shoulder, and what she’d stifled moments earlier found full release.
“Shh, Jasmine. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Zach! She snapped her eyes open with a gasp.
But Zach wasn’t there. She was no longer at the post in Afghanistan, chaos all around her, the stench of fear and death. She was in Liam’s bedroom, his father standing over her.
“What are you doing in here?” Her tone was shrill and laced with panic, partly from the remnants of the nightmare, partly from the thought that Colton had been able to walk into the room and approach her bed without her knowing.
Nearby, Liam rolled over. She tried to sit up, but she was restrained. Fresh panic surged through her. She worked a hand free and heaved a sigh of relief. It was just the sheet and blanket. One side was still tucked between the mattress and box springs, the rest wound tightly around her.
Colton helped to pull the bedding from under her. “I was having trouble sleeping.” His tone was low, soothing. The glow of the night-light washed over him, softening his features. “I went to the kitchen to get a drink and heard you thrashing around.”
She pushed herself to an upright position as Liam started to cry. Colton moved that direction, and she sprang to her feet.
“Let me get him.” It was only fair.
“You’re not his babysitter.”
“I’m the one who woke him up. Besides, it’s Monday, the start of a new week. You need your sleep.”
She scooped Liam from his bed. In a matter of seconds, he’d worked himself up to a full wail. She settled herself in the rocking chair, his legs draped over her right thigh. He calmed down and snuggled against her, thumb in his mouth.
As she rocked him, she rubbed his back, making slow circles with her palm. He drew in several shuddering breaths, then lifted his other arm to grip her silk pajamas.
She closed her eyes, letting her pulse slow and the images fade. Something cleansing washed over her, leaving behind an odd sense of calm. How could the comfort she tried to give flow both ways? How could the act of soothing Liam’s fears be a balm for her own?
“What did you dream?”
The question jarred her eyes open. “Nothing important, just a nightmare.”
“From your military days?”
He sat on her bed, fingers intertwined in his lap. Great. He was planning to stay awhile.
“Yeah.” If he expected her to elaborate, he was going to be disappointed. She didn’t discuss the memories that haunted her with anyone.
“You want to talk about it?”
“No.” He wasn’t her counselor.
But she was tasked with protecting his son. He needed to know that she wasn’t in danger of flipping out and hurting Liam.
She drew in a stabilizing breath. “I’ve been out of the army for three years, living a fairly normal life. The horror of combat is behind me.”
Sort of. The things she witnessed would never go away. But the nightmares had gradually decreased in frequency. More important, she was getting better at waking herself up before reaching the state that had drawn Colton into the room.
Not all her assignments had been in war zones. Only two had. During those deployments, she’d witnessed dozens of deaths. Every one of them had bothered her. Zach’s had almost killed her. Their relationship hadn’t been perfect. But it had been less dysfunctional than her previous ones.
Colton nodded. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”
“Thanks.” But that wasn’t how she did things.
He dipped his head toward his son. “Looks like he might be going back to sleep.”
“I think you’re right.” Except for the occasional shuddering breath, he hadn’t moved in several minutes.
Colton rose. “I’m going to take you up on your offer to let me get some sleep.”
As she watched him walk from the room, tenderness wove through her. In spite of all of her toughness, sad stories got to her. And his was tragic on so many levels.
Suffering the death of his mother at age seven. Unwanted by his father. Bounced between foster and group homes for the next eight years. Left behind when his brother was adopted.
He’d overcome all of it, then had his family shattered again when his wife died. If anyone had grounds for claiming life wasn’t fair, it was Colton.
But he didn’t. During quiet times, he projected a sense of grief that was almost palpable. But an unexplainable peace seemed to run beneath it.
If she asked him about the peace he seemed to possess, he’d probably credit his faith in God. That didn’t make sense, either. If Colton believed God was close enough to provide any type of comfort, he’d also have to believe that God was close enough to see what was happening and intervene.
Liam released a soft sigh, and his hand fell to his lap. He was fully asleep. She could lay him in his bed and return to her own.
Instead, she sat for a few more minutes, relishing his warmth against her and letting the soothing movement of the rocker continue to relax her. She tipped her face downward and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. Colton didn’t want his son getting attached to her. He didn’t express any concerns about her getting attached to the little boy.
Finally, she rose and laid him in his bed next to the stuffed rabbit. The thumb that had fallen out of his mouth went back in.
Her chest squeezed. Every child should be loved and cherished like Liam. Instead, too many grew up like her and Liam’s father—unwanted, shuffled from place to place, fed but not nourished, cared for but not loved. Maybe Colton didn’t feel life was unfair, but she certainly did.
She moved to her bed and crawled between the rumpled sheets. Watching Colton hold Liam Saturday, praising him for the job he’d done decorating the tree, had stirred something in her. It was something she desperately wanted, a longing she didn’t even know she’d had.
It wasn’t that she wanted it with Colton. Or even his sad, sweet little boy. She just wanted it. Period. That sense of home. Family. Maybe she’d find it eventually.
But not with Colton. The last thing she wanted to do was to try to step into the shoes of his dead wife. She’d never measure up to those standards.
Amazing mother. Loving wife. Artistic, talented and creative. Beautiful inside and out.
No way could she compete with that.
She wouldn’t even try.
FIVE
Colton walked from the courthouse into late dusk. The parking lot lights and streetlights along Alpine had already come on.
As he made his way toward his vehicle, he scanned the area. There hadn’t been any possible threats since the art walk a week ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully relax. If life continued to be safe and uneventful, though, he’d have to eventually let Jasmine go. He couldn’t afford to keep her on indefinitely.
In the meantime, her presence was a comfort, and not just for the security she provided. She was at least partially responsible for the improvement he was seeing in Liam.
Over the past week, several more words had slipped from his mouth. No full sentences, yet. He was still a long way from the chatty little boy he used to be. But it was a start.
Colton’s cell phone vibrated at his side. A second, then third buzz told him it was a call rather than a text. Not Cade again. He was starting to sound like an audio clip on automatic replay. He’d called twice this week, and Colton had had to reassure him both times that he and Liam weren’t going back to Atlanta, even for a brief visit.
He removed his phone from its clip, shaking his head. He was still trying to get used to the mature, somber side of Cade. When he swiped the screen, though, it wasn’t his brother’s name and number there.
Colton smiled. He and Doug Blanton hadn’t just worked together since Colton’s return to Atlanta. They’d gone to the same church and become good friends over the past couple of years.
Doug’s booming voice came through the phone. “How is Murphy?”
“Good.”
“No kidnappers or creepy stalker dudes?”
Doug knew the reasons behind the sudden move. Colton had caught up with him when he’d gone into the office to resign his position.
“Nope. Just a couple of false alarms.” He pressed the key fob and approached the Highlander. Beyond its nose, a chain-link fence marked the edge of the parking lot, the guardrail inside an extra layer of protection from the ten-or twelve-foot drop-off to the road. “I did hire a bodyguard.”
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