Protecting Holly

by Lynn Bulock

  When she came down, she spent a little time in the small bathroom with the door shut, causing the dog to complain a little more. Then she came over to the couch in a velour sweatsuit and fuzzy socks, carrying a pillow and blanket. “Good night, Jake. See you in the morning.”

  “Good night,” he said, barely looking up from the computer screen, where Barclay’s code had already drawn him in again. A few minutes later he pulled himself out of his reverie, expecting to see her already asleep. Her breathing had softened to a slow rhythm. When he looked over, Jake could see her nestled under the blanket, one hand still on King’s head.

  Her hair was spread out in a halo over the pillow, and Jake thought that it was every bit as enticing as he’d imagined. With a start he realized that even though her eyes were closed, Holly didn’t seem to be asleep, unless she talked to herself in her sleep. After a moment, he looked away, feeling a little embarrassed. She was praying, he realized. Leaving her all the privacy he could in the close quarters of the cabin, Jake went back to his work.

  When Holly woke with light streaming in the cabin windows, she almost expected to see and hear Jake at the computer. Even though he’d said he would turn in early, the two times that she’d stirred from sleep to put another log on the fire, he was still at the computer. “Come on, Jake, give it a rest,” she muttered the second time.

  “I will. Soon,” he’d said, and she had drifted back into sleep with King by her side. She hadn’t been wearing a watch, but she might have guessed that second fire stoking to be about two in the morning. If so, Jake would have a short night, because by eight she was going to be ready to haul him out of bed and head over to the main house for breakfast if he didn’t come down the stairs.

  Since it was light and she was awake, Holly decided to clean up quickly and take King for a walk. Once she had done that, she went back to the cabin and brewed a pot of coffee, hoping the smell would entice Jake down the stairs.

  Something brought him down. Holly tried to decide if his descent was a good thing or not, as an unshaven, yawning Jake in jeans and a rumpled flannel shirt faced her. This was a new thing. She’d never seen Jake at less than his best, and just figured he was probably one of those people who bounced out of bed every morning looking as fresh as he did at eight when he came into the office. Apparently this was not the case.

  “Good morning,” she said, trying not to giggle or stare. His blond hair had a cowlick right at one temple that she’d never noticed before. He raised a hand in a halfhearted wave, mumbled something that might have been an answer and shuffled over to the coffeepot. “So, did you sleep well?” she asked as he sat down at the small table near the kitchenette built into one wall of the cabin.

  “I slept. I woke up and it was light. And cold,” he said, staring into his coffee mug in a semidazed fashion. “You’re sure this isn’t decaf, right?”

  “Positive. Sorry there isn’t any milk or anything with it, but I forgot to load up on those kinds of supplies. I’m sure Dorothy will be happy to help me out with them when we go over to the main house for breakfast.”

  “Great. For now black is fine.” Jake took a long swallow of the burning brew. Holly wondered how he drank anything that hot, but he obviously needed the boost badly enough to drink things at the scalding level.

  Half an hour of coffee and a hot shower worked magic on Jake. After all of that he looked like a slightly more casual version of the man she was used to seeing in the office in the morning. He still wore jeans and a sweater, but now his hair behaved and his eyes were bright. All his sentences made sense, too. Holly noticed he didn’t even grumble about the dog sitting between them on the way to the main house.

  Once they got there, Jake and King were both equally enthusiastic about breakfast. Holly was pretty sure that Jake didn’t cook in that bachelor loft of his, and she didn’t think he usually stopped anywhere in between there and the office for anything like this. Maybe that was why he showed such appreciation for Dorothy’s flapjacks and sausages, with a couple of eggs on the side. You would think the man was going to be out riding the range, instead of in a warm cabin working on a computer, the way he was eating.

  “Jake? We can come back for lunch,” she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

  “You probably will,” Jake said. “Once I get involved with those files, I can’t guarantee I’ll stop.”

  Holly watched him keep eating breakfast. Judging from the way he was eating, Jake wasn’t planning to stop work until about midnight.

  As it turned out, Holly had to drag him away from the computer after dark to get him back to the house for dinner. After spending the day in the same room of the cabin, Holly began to discover how much she appreciated having her own outer office next to Jake’s, and not being in the same room with him at work.

  He talked to himself, and favored vastly different music than she did, and tended to work out problems by getting up and loping across the space behind his desk. And to make matters worse, he did all of this while looking unbelievably attractive. Holly was beginning to see what the other associates were talking about around the Bureau. Even with all his maddening little habits, Jake was very appealing.

  He’d definitely charmed Dorothy in the space of twenty-four hours. Holly knew that nobody else could get away with making her wait dinner on them. But she didn’t turn a hair when Jake sauntered in the kitchen half an hour later than he’d been told to show up. Mike and the ranch hands were pretty much done eating by then, leaning back in their chairs and relaxing a little. Still, Dorothy got up and began dishing up stew and taking fresh biscuits out of the oven. In the past when Holly had been at the ranch, she’d seen tardy ranch hands told to fix their own or deal with cold dinner, but not Jake.

  She wondered why nobody else groused about the special treatment he was getting, but in a few minutes she discovered the answer to that, too. “Since we have company, I made apple crisp,” Dorothy said, bringing a large, still-steaming pan to the table. She set it closest to Jake, who exclaimed over the wonderful smell coming from the dessert, but nobody turned down a helping or two with the vanilla ice cream Mike found in the freezer.

  When they were ready to go back to the cabin, King planted himself by Holly’s side, looking hopeful. “You should stay here,” she told him. The dog pawed her jeans leg gently and whined as if he understood her words and was trying to talk her into a different decision.

  Mike looked at her in concern. “Are you sure you want to leave him here? You two came out here for safety. Why not provide all of it you can?”

  Holly shook her head. “I know we’ll be safe. Nothing unusual has gone on today, has it?”

  “No.” Mike looked like he hated to admit it. “I did see more than usual of the county deputies cruising when I was where I could see the road. Nobody else, though.”

  The dog whined again and Holly caved in. “Oh, all right, come on, then,” she told King. She hugged her brother and patted the dog. “You will just have to wait until morning for your reassurance.” She already had hers by trusting in the Lord, but Holly felt that explaining that one more time to anyone here would be useless. If they didn’t understand it by now, she might as well save her breath, and let the dog come back to the cabin.

  She went back to the kitchen to collect Jake. He was helping Dorothy clear the table and chatting with her while they worked. “Come on, Jake. The bus is leaving,” she said. “Thanks for dinner, Dorothy. Everything was great, as usual. See you in the morning.”

  “I’ll be praying for you two tonight, for safety and protection,” Dorothy called out. “I’ll be doing it whether you want me to or not, Jake.” So I’m not the only one trying to change Jake’s heart. The thought made her smile all the way back to the cabin.

  Jake looked at the screen again, trying to focus. He had no idea how late it was, or rather by now, how early it was. Late usually meant the hours before midnight, and that had passed quite a while ago. He looked over at the fireplace and noti
ced that it was past time to put another log on the pile. The fire had sifted down almost to embers again. He was falling down on the job. Now that he noticed the dying fire, he could sense the chill in the room that should have told him to add another log. If it was this cool down here, right in front of the fire, what was the bedroom like? Holly was probably freezing. How did he get so wrapped up in these programs that everything else ceased to exist?

  Holly had gone to bed hours ago after falling asleep twice on the couch. No sense in dragging her down here again just because she was too cold to sleep. He got up from his computer chair, stretching the kinks out of his back and shoulders on the way over to the log basket. He put two of the smaller logs across the embers and used the fireplace tools to reposition them until the dying fire caught. King lifted his head where he’d been sleeping, then relaxed again as the fire blazed. That should keep things warmer in the cabin for a few more hours.

  He knew he should sleep, like Holly and King, but it was so hard to think about sleeping when he was just around the corner from the evidence he needed to put Barclay away for good. Of course, he’d felt that way for two or three days now, and the solution stayed just around the corner. For once he wished that the faith that seemed to come so easily to Holly, and to the rest of the family, hadn’t passed him by. If he was a praying man, he’d be praying about this right now.

  So why couldn’t you be? He could almost hear Holly ask him the question, even though she was upstairs asleep. And he could definitely picture what she’d look like asking, even down to the details like the soft flannel shirt she’d worn today, the way her hair framed her face when she didn’t pull it back in the tight French braid, and the sparkle in her deep-brown eyes.

  Jake didn’t know what startled him more, the fact that he could picture Holly so easily answering the question, or the fact that he was actually considering it. What had happened to him? This trial prep and everything that went with it had turned his world upside down. Instead of going to the office every day he was in a cabin out in the middle of nowhere, seriously considering the power of prayer and the attractiveness of his assistant. Both were such foreign ideas to him that his head spun thinking about them.

  Maybe he needed a little fresh air. Jake looked at the coatrack next to the cabin door and found his jacket. Pulling it on, he went outside and stood there, staring up at the glittering stars. He breathed in the sharp, cold air and tried to clear his head. After a few moments he decided that his head was as clear as it was going to get, and he still felt just as odd as he had before.

  King barked softly when Jake came back, then quieted when Jake checked the fireplace again to make sure the fire was burning steadily. Then he took off his jacket and went over to the steep stairs to the bedroom. Climbing, he took a deep breath, trying to talk himself out of this crazy scheme one last time. It didn’t work, and he found himself at the door to the bedroom, wondering whether to knock or call out or flee. He settled for knocking while he called Holly’s name, and opened the door.

  She sat up in bed, brushing soft waves of dark hair from her eyes. “Jake? What’s the matter? Do you need me?”

  “Yes, Holly, I need you.” His throat tightened just looking at her, the softness of sleep still on her features in the wedge of light from the open doorway. “I hate to wake you up, but it’s important. Could you come downstairs for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” Her voice was still thick with sleep. “Give me a minute to put myself together and I’ll be down.”

  “Be careful on the stairs,” he said, and went down to sit on the couch and wait for her. The longer he sat on the couch, the sillier this whole idea sounded. A piece of wood popped in the fire and Jake jumped, feeling every muscle tense. What was he doing?

  Then the bedroom door opened and closed and Holly came down the stair-ladder. She was in the velour sweat suit she’d slept in the night before, her hair still cascading around her face. Holly looked more beautiful and vulnerable than Jake had ever seen her look. At that moment he understood why she wore her hair pulled back at work, in order to hide from the world the look that only he could see on her face right now. His heart was beating fast as she crossed the room. “So, what is it? Did you finally break Barclay’s last code?”

  Jake had to push to get the words out. “No, I didn’t. And that’s what I need help with.”

  A look of confusion crossed her face. “Jake, you’re the coder. I’m just the administrative assistant, remember? I can take notes or write memos or set up file copies of documents, but breaking computer code is beyond my capabilities.” Her dark eyes looked so mystified, and Jake longed to reach across to her and stroke her velvet cheek in comfort.

  “You have other skills too, Holly, and one of them is what I need tonight,” he began, keeping his hands in his lap. “You probably won’t believe what you’re hearing, but I need you to show me…how to ask for help. I’ve been watching you through this whole crisis and you’re never at a loss.”

  “That’s because I’m not handling it myself, Jake. I turn it over to God.” She idly stroked the dog, who had sat down next to her as soon as she’d come downstairs.

  “Exactly,” he said, willing her with a look to understand him. She still seemed puzzled, and he forced himself to go on. “You turn your problems over to God, and you make it look so natural. Show me how, Holly.”

  She looked at him, wide-eyed and silent for so long he wasn’t sure that she’d heard him correctly. Then one lone tear coursed down her cheek and her lower lip trembled. “Of course,” she said softly. “I’ll show you as much as I can.”

  She reached out with warm, soft hands and grasped both of his, which seemed incredibly rough next to her skin. She bowed her head and those waves of heavy brown hair cascaded around her face, hiding her expression but not her words.

  “Heavenly Father,” she began quietly, “We’re asking for Your help. Please guide Jake as he seeks to find justice for so many people, to take the power away from the drug cartel that’s torn the city apart and ruined so many lives. We know that You have the power that matters, the ability to do all things that are right and good. Show Jake what’s right and good in this situation, and how to defeat the darkness and evil of the drug ring that has poisoned so many lives.” Then she was silent, still grasping his hands. Jake could feel the warmth of her flesh and the ring of her words around him.

  He tried to form the right ones of his own. Still, he felt like a child in the dark compared to Holly when it came to prayer. It came so naturally to her, and for him it had been so very, very long since he’d even considered that there was a God who cared enough to listen just to him. “Help me, Father,” he finally managed to say.

  Holly took over again after that, finishing their prayer and then looking up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you, Jake. That’s the best thing anybody has ever woken me up for,” she said.

  He nodded, dumbly. What did he say to her? Stock phrases like You’re welcome didn’t seem enough somehow for something like the gift she’d just given him. Because he felt just as confused as he had been before about breaking Barclay’s last puzzle. But even though he was still in the dark, he knew he wasn’t alone while he struggled. And suddenly that made all the difference in the world.

  Holly sat on the couch, vaguely aware that the fire was dying and her feet, in their cotton socks, were growing colder by the minute. But the rest of her was glowing with warmth, not from the fire, or even Jake’s touch, but from the joy that overwhelmed her. Jake had gotten her up in the middle of a dark, cold night to help him with work, and it was a wonderful thing. Because here, for the first time, was the kind of help she had longed to give him all along, but thought he would never ask for.

  She felt like dancing, singing. Instead, she reached out impulsively and hugged him. “Jake, this is so great. I just know you’re going to find the answer now,” she told him. His answering hug was firm, and his stubbly cheek rasped against her skin before he let her go. She was deepl
y aware of his masculinity, but for the first time in years, she was comfortable with a man’s touch.

  Before she had time to think about the wonder of that, Jake had pulled away, and was heading toward his computer again. “I think you’re right, Holly,” he said over his shoulder, pulling out the chair. “If you want to stay around for good luck, or support, I’d love to have you here. King’s okay, but I could use some human support. Keep me company while I work, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, getting up briefly to add another log to the fire. She settled back on the couch, pulling the blanket that was draped over the back of it around her while she watched Jake’s long, slender fingers fly over the keyboard. He’d apparently been using the blanket himself at some point, because there was the hint of his cologne on it. That was a welcoming scent as she watched him murmur softly to himself…or perhaps he was beginning to talk to God on his own? Whatever the case, Holly sat wrapped in the blanket at one end of the couch, and watched him work while the glow of the moment surrounded her.

  In what seemed like a few minutes Jake’s hand was on her shoulder and she was trying to sit upright again after sliding down the smooth leather arm of the couch. She’d fallen asleep; that much was apparent when she opened her eyes and looked at the dying fire again. “Holly? Come on, wake up.”

  Jake sat on the edge of the couch, warm and smiling next to her. King sat next to him on the floor, watching the two humans. “I did it. We did it. There’s enough there in the last level of hidden files to tie Barclay to La Mano Oscura and Baltasar Escalante, the plane full of drugs, everything. Nothing can stop it now.”

  “That’s great,” Holly said, leaning her head onto his welcoming shoulder. “See what happens when you ask for a little help?”