Bodyguard For Christmas

Shortly after arriving at the Murphy house three days ago, she’d walked the premises and come up with a security plan. An alarm system was a minimum requirement. Before the weekend, all windows and doors would be wired and motion-sensing lights installed on the perimeter of the house. For the time being, camera installation was on hold. But it would be scheduled immediately if she felt the need.

She let the cloth panel drop. For the past thirty minutes, she’d made her rounds to several of the house’s windows, checking on Liam in between. This residence wasn’t elegant like Colton’s Atlanta home. But with hardwood floors, tongue-and-groove walls and a fireplace tucked into one side of the living room, it was nice—cozy and rustic. And as long as Colton’s enemies didn’t know he was here, it was safe.

Ideally, she’d have backup, a second or third bodyguard to help patrol and provide relief. But Colton didn’t have as deep pockets as Burch’s celebrity and big-business clients, especially after the extended leave of absence to care for his in-laws—one of the things she’d learned from Gunn after Colton had left the office Friday. If he’d remained in Atlanta, they wouldn’t have given him a choice.

The ringtone sounded on her phone, and she released it from the clip on her belt. The screen ID’d Burch Security as the caller.

Corine’s Southern twang came through the phone. “I’ve checked out some of the names Mr. Gale gave Gunn. I’m still working on it, but there are two people who match the description of the men who tried to kidnap his son. At least their size. Since they were wearing ski masks, that’s all we’ve got to go on.”

“Who?”

“Richard Perez is the first name Gale gave us. Turns out, he has regular visits from his brothers. Both have records, but they’re out now. The older one is tall and lanky. The younger one is close to the same height but built like an offensive lineman.”

Jasmine nodded. “It fits.”

“Another name Gale gave us is Broderick ‘Ace’ Hoffman, who was released three weeks ago. He’s roughly the same size as the thinner guy. We’re checking out people he’s known to associate with to see if any of them fit the other guy’s description.”

As Corine continued to provide information, Jasmine moved to the back door and peered through the paned glass inset. Finally, the admin fell silent.

“Anyone else?” Corine had given her six possible matches.

“That’s it for now. You know Gale’s wife died of natural causes, right?”

“Yeah, Gunn gave me all the history.”

After ending the call, she glanced through the open doorway to Liam’s room. Keeping track of the boy was the easy part of her assignment. He wasn’t a typical preschooler, with boundless energy and a touch of mischievousness. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to play quietly on the floor.

He was also spending his days in preschool. Colton had enrolled him yesterday, after securing his former job with the district attorney’s office for Cherokee County. He’d given her two reasons for the preschool decision. One, he hadn’t hired her to be a babysitter. She couldn’t agree more.

Two, he didn’t want his son spending so much time with her that he’d get attached. More good thinking. Liam’s mother was no longer in the picture, and he wasn’t handling it well.

She’d abide by Colton’s wishes and not let Liam get attached to her. But the sad little boy she’d been charged with protecting stirred something in her. Twenty-five years ago, that had been her—quiet, withdrawn, tormented by nightmares. Unlike Liam, she’d had a mother throughout most of her childhood. And her mother loved her. She’d just been too young and dysfunctional to know how to raise a child.

Jasmine leaned against Liam’s doorjamb, and his eyes met hers. He sat amid a sea of Legos, an almost completed rectangular object in front of him.

She stepped into the room. “What are you building?”

He lowered his gaze and searched through the pieces until he found a truss-shaped one, then snapped it onto an end.

“Are you building a house?”

Liam continued his project without making eye contact again. She turned to leave the room. She’d never been good at one-sided conversations.

At the door, she hesitated. A chest of drawers sat to its right, a framed eight-by-ten photograph on top. She’d noticed it there before but hadn’t taken the time to look at it closely. Now she took the frame down and held it in front of her.

It was one of those studio portraits, with a Christmas background. Colton sat on a stool. A woman was nestled in front of him, Liam on her lap. Colton’s wife. Her hair was a medium brown, the same color as her eyes. Though she wore makeup, it was understated. There was nothing striking about her individual features.

But she was gorgeous. She radiated warmth and friendliness, her easy smile an outward expression of inner joy. If one could deduce personality from a photograph, Mandy Gale was the type of person every woman wanted to have as a best friend. The world had lost someone special.

A key rattled in the front door lock and she set the frame back on the dresser feeling as if she’d almost been caught eavesdropping. Colton was home, with dinner. He’d called forty minutes ago to take her order.

She stepped into the kitchen as the door swung open. Colton held up two plastic bags. “Chinese takeout. Courtesy of China Town Buffet.”

She drew in a fragrant breath. “Smells wonderful.”

Colton carried the bags to the kitchen table. “How did everything go today?”

“Fine.” He wasn’t asking about her day. He was asking about Liam’s. Colton Gale wasn’t a man for small talk. “When I took him to day care, he went from me to his teacher without any fuss.”

“Good.”

He disappeared through the door behind him, then returned a minute later, holding Liam. By the time he had him strapped in to his high chair, she’d filled two water glasses and put milk in a sippy cup.

He removed the foam containers from the plastic bags. “I’m guessing there weren’t any threats.”

“No. Just like yesterday.”

“Good.”

He’d wanted her close but not conspicuous. Although he’d explained the situation to the owner of the day care, he didn’t want to alarm the workers or the other parents. So she’d parked a short distance down the road and watched the activity through binoculars.

After laying a cellophane-wrapped package of plastic silverware at each place, Colton sat adjacent to his son at the four-person table, and Jasmine took the chair opposite Colton. Pleasant aromas wafted up from the container in front of her, and her stomach rumbled.

But she waited. She’d learned her first night there that the Gales never ate without saying grace.

Colton took his son’s hand, then hers. The first time, he’d asked if she minded. She’d said no. Praying before meals was a sweet tradition.

When he bowed his head and began to pray, even Liam closed his eyes. Jasmine did, too, but only out of respect for the man sitting across from her. The God Colton worshipped was one she didn’t like very much—an ever-present, all-powerful God who saw the suffering in the world but chose to ignore it. It was much less disturbing to imagine a distant God who set everything in motion, then turned His back to let nature take its course.

For the fourth night in a row, she listened to Colton thank God for His protection over them. She was the one providing the protection, but whatever.

When he finished his prayer, he tore into the cellophane package that held his plastic silverware and napkin. “I called a fencing contractor at lunchtime. I’m meeting him here at noon tomorrow.”

“Good.” The backyard was fenced, and that was currently where Brutus was. But the entire front was unguarded.

Colton continued in his professional no-nonsense tone. “They’ll connect to the existing fence and take it all the way to the road. They told me if I go ahead with the contract tomorrow, they’ll do the work this weekend.”

“Good. Brutus is our first line of defense. It’s best if he can access the entire yard.”

Colton turned his attention to eating, all topics of business thoroughly covered. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Though they were all living under the same roof, Colton was keeping that professional distance.

That was fine with her. She wasn’t any more interested in a relationship than he was. When the sting of her latest disaster finally faded and she was ready to put herself out there again, it certainly wouldn’t be for a man who was still grieving the loss of his wife.

Frenzied barking from outside sent her into fight mode, and she sprang to her feet. From what she’d gathered, the dog didn’t bark unless he had a reason to. Colton’s clenched jaw and the lines of worry around his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

She retrieved a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and reached the back door the same time he did. He planted his hand against it, his other arm extended palm up for the flashlight. “I’ll check it out.”

“You need to stay inside. And keep away from the windows.”

He bristled. He was probably used to being the protector, especially with women and children.

But that was the job he’d hired her to do. “I’m the one who’s armed and wearing Kevlar.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to stay with Liam.”

“No, I’m supposed to protect Liam and, in the process, also protect you. Right now, there may be a threat out there. I’d suggest you let me go investigate.”

His jaw was still tight, but he dropped his hand and gave her a sharp nod.

She opened the door enough to slip through. “Lock this behind me. Don’t open it unless I give you an all clear.”

After a glance around, she stepped onto the back deck and drew her weapon. Dusk had passed and full night was fast approaching. Brutus was on the side of the house, to her right, still barking.

She crept that direction, dried leaves crunching beneath her feet. A chilly breeze cut right through her, and a shiver shook her shoulders. The light jacket she always wore hid her holster from view but offered little protection against the winter cold. She should have grabbed her coat.

When she rounded the corner, Brutus stood with his back to her, facing the front yard. He’d stopped barking, but deep growls rumbled in his chest, and his body rippled with tension.

A rustle sounded a few yards to the side of them, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Every sense shot to full alert with the impending threat of an ambush.

She wasn’t in Afghanistan anymore. But she didn’t try to shake off the sensation. That state of being constantly on guard, trying to anticipate potential threats before they could become imminent, made her good at what she did.

She clicked on the flashlight and directed its beam into the woods. There was no sign of movement. Had she just heard the wind? Or was someone out there?

After stepping through the gate, she closed it behind her, then approached the tree line. Except for the rustle of leaves in the breeze and Brutus’s low-pitched growls, the night was quiet.

She swept the beam back and forth, studying the ground in front of her. Light reflected against underbrush brown and dried after a couple of winter freezes.

Her hand stilled. At the edge of the woods, decaying growth was pressed down and lying against the ground. Someone had recently come through there.

Whoever it had been was likely long gone. He’d apparently come out of the woods, then run across the front yard, since that was the direction Brutus was looking when she’d first come out.

After making a final rotation with the flashlight, she walked back to the house. The key Colton had given her when they’d arrived was in her pocket. Instead of using it, she rapped on the door. “Let me in.”

It swung inward moments later. As soon as she was safely inside, she spun on him. “I told you not to unlock the door unless I gave you an all clear.”

“You did.”

“No, I said ‘let me in.’ There’s a difference. What if someone was holding a gun to my head?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay, I get it.”

“In that case, you’d take Liam, run out a different way and pray to your God that no one sees you.”

He sank into his chair, the weight of her words reflected on his face. “Did you see anything?”

“Someone came out of the woods and left through the front yard.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You saw him?”

“No. The underbrush was pressed down. When I got to Brutus, he was staring into the front yard, growling.”

She cast a glance at Liam, who was sitting at the table, munching on a rangoon, oblivious to the tension of the adults in the room.

Colton nodded. “It’s possible it was nothing, some teenagers trying to make their way home by dark, not realizing this place is now occupied.” He frowned, wrapping a protective arm around his son’s shoulders. “Or maybe someone was checking to see how secure we are.”

She took her seat opposite him, and he continued.

“We need to keep our guard up.”

“No problem.”

Her guard was always up. Night or day. Sleeping or awake.

Three years ago, she’d left behind the dangers of Afghanistan. But she’d swapped them for other threats, not as constant, but just as real.

If there was one thing Colton would never have to worry about, it was her state of readiness.

THREE

A single lamp burned in the living room, its glow not quite reaching the far corners of the space. The fire that had blazed in the fireplace earlier that evening had long since turned to ash.

Colton sat in the overstuffed chair, silent and alone. How many hours had Mandy occupied this exact spot, curled up in an afghan, an open book in her lap? This had been her favorite place to read.

Now he’d taken over her spot. Except his reading wasn’t for pleasure. A bulging expandable folder sat on the end table next to him, and a bound document occupied his lap. It was the deposition of a store clerk held up at gunpoint.

He flipped the last page, then closed the plastic binder. When he’d slid it back into the expandable folder, he removed the next item for review.

Tomorrow was Friday, the end of his first week back at the Cherokee County district attorney’s office. After almost losing his son, nothing could have kept him in Atlanta. But he’d been blessed that someone was leaving his old office and he’d been able to step immediately into a job. After his extended leave of absence, his savings account was reaching dangerously low levels.

He opened the next piece of discovery, then let his gaze drift to the front wall. Curtains covered all the lower windows, but beyond the edge of the hemlock outside, stars were visible through some of the high trapezoid-shaped windows.

Liam had been in bed for some time. So had Jasmine. Since it was nearing midnight, that was where he should be. Eventually he’d head there—when he was beyond exhaustion and the blessed oblivion of sleep was within reach.

God is in control. It was a fact he’d known since age fifteen. But for the past six months, he’d had to recite those four words again and again. Even more in the past week. Unfortunately, all the reminders didn’t seem to penetrate those inner spaces where peace resided. His world had fallen apart, and he hadn’t been able to regain his footing.

With a sigh, he lowered his eyes to the document in his lap. Sometime later, he stuffed the pages he’d been reading into the folder and rose from the chair. He couldn’t say he’d reached the point of exhaustion, but if he stayed up much later, he’d be worthless tomorrow.

When he turned off the light, a faint glow shone from the partially open door off the side of the kitchen. Burning a night-light was the only way he could get Liam to sleep. If it bothered Jasmine, she hadn’t mentioned it.

He padded silently in that direction, then paused at the open door. Liam lay in the small bed at the far side of the room, eyes closed and thumb in his mouth. A thin curtain of wispy blond hair had fallen over one side of his face. His mouth moved in a series of sucking motions, then again grew still.

Colton drew in a shaky breath. Love swelled inside him, mingled with a sadness that pierced his heart. He was trying his hardest to be both mother and father. But as he’d watched his little boy retreat further into himself, he’d known it wasn’t enough.

He started to turn away, then hesitated. He’d wanted to keep Liam with him during the night, but Jasmine wouldn’t hear of it. She’d said she wouldn’t risk someone again tranquilizing the dog, then slipping in to whisk Liam away while she slept in another room. She was the security expert, so he’d given in, even though he didn’t like it. Having his son sleeping on the opposite side of the house upset every protective instinct he possessed.

But opposite side of the house wasn’t as bad as it sounded. The two bedroom doors were less than twenty feet apart, Liam’s off the side of the kitchen, his off the opposite side of the living room. The house was also equipped with a security system now. According to Jasmine, Tri State had finished the installation at three that afternoon.

Poking his head into the room, he sought out the other bed, against the wall to his right. Jasmine was curled on her side, back toward the wall, blanket tucked under her chin. Instead of resting in its usual soft layers, her short hair jutted outward in disarray, as if she’d done some tossing and turning.

One hand lay near her face. But it wasn’t relaxed and open. Instead, her fingers were curled into a fist. Even in sleep, she projected a tense readiness. Not good for her, but great for his son. And a huge comfort for him. Allowing Jasmine to be responsible for his son’s safety had been a good choice.

He backed away and crept silently through the kitchen. It wouldn’t do to have Jasmine awaken to find him staring at her. She’d probably think he was some kind of a creep. But it wasn’t like that. He didn’t think of her as anything more than his and Liam’s bodyguard.

And he never would. The complete opposite of Mandy, she was so not his type. Where Mandy was soft and relaxed, Jasmine was hard and rigid. The warmth and openness that had always drawn him to Mandy seemed to be lacking in Jasmine. He’d never witnessed anything but cool professionalism. As far as openness, something told him she guarded her personal details like the Secret Service guarded the president.

When he stepped into his room, he left the door open. Ten minutes later, he was lying in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling. Another thirty minutes passed before sleep crept close enough to brush against consciousness. His thoughts slowed, growing more and more random.

A terror-filled wail split the silence. He stumbled from bed, heart in his throat. It took almost landing on his face to realize one foot was still tangled in the sheets. No matter how many times it happened, he’d never get used to Liam’s middle-of-the-night screams. He’d hoped the intensity and frequency would lessen with time, but so far, they hadn’t.

A second shriek set his teeth on edge. Then sobs followed, wails of sorrow rather than fear. He burst into Liam’s room, flipping the switch as he passed. Stark white light obliterated every shadow.

He skidded to a stop. Liam’s bed was empty. Jasmine had already scooped him up and sat in the wooden rocking chair. She held him tightly, his head resting against her chest. Her face was tilted downward as she whispered soothing words into his hair.

She glanced up, meeting Colton’s gaze. Her eyes seemed to hold a lingering wildness of their own. Before he could analyze what he was seeing, she returned her attention to the sobbing boy in her lap.

Liam took a shuddering breath, then lifted one arm to partially circle her waist.

Colton clenched his fists. Jasmine shouldn’t be the one comforting him. Mandy should. The boy needed his mother.

An inner voice told him he was being irrational. On some level he agreed. But he was powerless against the emotions bombarding him.

“I’ll take him.” His tone was stiff and cold.

Jasmine looked up again, her brows drawn together. When she tried to move Liam, his hand tightened around the fabric of her silk pajamas.

Colton reached for him. “Come here, buddy. Daddy’s here.”

Liam finally released his hold. When Colton took him, Liam’s arms went around his neck. He eased himself down onto Jasmine’s bed, since she was still occupying the rocking chair. Already, guilt was pricking him.

“I appreciate what you did for him.” It probably hadn’t been easy. Jasmine didn’t seem like the gentle, motherly type.

“I didn’t mind.”

He owed her an apology, as well as an explanation. Sorry I snapped at you. I was angry that you were here instead of my dead wife.

Okay, maybe not.

“I’m sorry he woke you up.” That was an apology. Sort of.

“I was already awake.”

He wasn’t surprised. When he’d checked on them, she hadn’t looked to be in a sound sleep. At least not a relaxed one.

She looked away. “Nightmares are the pits, especially for kids.”

Her words seemed to be more than an opinion. Her tone held a been there, done that sentiment.

He nodded. “They’re pretty regular, have been ever since... For the past six months.”

“Since your wife’s death.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “It was sudden. Brain aneurysm. We had no time to prepare.” Not that it would have done any good. No amount of preparation would lessen the blow of saying goodbye to one’s soul mate.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes held the same sympathy he’d seen when they’d first arrived at the Murphy house. Not just sympathy. Empathy. Like she’d walked in his shoes. Or some that fit in a far too similar way.

“Thanks.” He forced a smile, but only one side of his mouth cooperated. “I’ve tried to keep things as normal for Liam as possible.” Normalcy when one’s entire world had shifted wasn’t easy to accomplish.

Actually, normal was gone. Trying to recapture the life they used to have was pointless. Instead, he was settling in to a new life, defining a new normal, while still holding on to the few constants. Though it was often the last thing he felt like doing, he’d continued with church, trips to the park and other activities Liam enjoyed, even during their stay in Montana.

Tomorrow would be the first Friday in December, the night of the Murphy Christmas Art Walk. The event had been one of his and Mandy’s traditions and what kicked off the decorating they’d done at the Murphy house, even when they’d lived in Atlanta.

“Tomorrow night...” He started the thought aloud before he could change his mind. He wasn’t kidding himself. Holidays were going to be pure torture. Getting through them would require every ounce of strength he possessed. “I’m taking Liam to the Christmas Art Walk. We’ll need you to come along.”

No way was he taking his son out without Jasmine’s protection. Since arriving in Murphy, he’d felt safe, except for the incident two nights ago when Brutus had caught someone prowling around. Since nothing had happened since, it was probably just kids passing through.

Jasmine shrugged. “Sure. What’s the Christmas Art Walk?”

“We stroll around downtown Murphy, where they have art, food, live music and, of course, the lighting of the tree in the square. We’ll go out for supper first, my treat.”

She gave a sharp nod. “Will do.”

He rose and moved to his son’s bed. As he and Jasmine had talked, Liam’s arms had slowly slid from around his neck. He positioned the boy in his bed and tucked the stuffed rabbit into the crook of one elbow. Liam’s other thumb slipped into his mouth.

Colton straightened and tilted his head toward his son. “His nightmares, they usually only happen once in any given night.”

“No problem, even if it’s more.”