Sweet Christmas Surrender

by Dahlia Rose

  “Grant, can you make your way over here?” Aunt Martha said. “We’ve got trouble in my driveway.” She listened for a moment and then said, “Thank you, babe.”

  Even though she was apprehensive, hearing her elderly aunt call her boyfriend babe made her smile. She watched her father’s guard get out and open the door so her father could get out. Christine had hoped to never see his face again, at least not until he was on the news for being arrested.

  “I guess it would be useless to tell you go inside right now?” Aunt Martha said as she stood.

  “It probably wouldn’t matter, Auntie M. Besides, if he’s here, he found out and had us watched to make sure I was.” She sighed.

  Christine moved gingerly. Trying to get herself out of the patio chair with her burgeoning stomach it took a little longer. Her father’s eyes widened in surprise, and she watched anger flare in then.

  “Did you got get knocked up like some bitch dog in heat?” he snarled angrily.

  “Leonard Chapel, it would do you well to mind your mouth and to get off my property,” Aunt Martha said loudly. “Don’t go past my front step. I have a shotgun and a license to use it.”

  “Martha, is that how you talk to your brother-in-law?” Leonard opened his hands imploringly. As always it was like a switch was flicked inside him and he was back to being nice even though the fire of wickedness was in his eyes. “I came to see how you and my daughter were faring. Do you need anything?”

  “Nothing from you, snake,” Aunt Martha snapped. “When you put my sister in her grave whatever ties we had died with her.”

  “My daughter is here.” He looked at Christine. “And I see I’m to be a grandfather.”

  “You’re not my father. The only parent I loved is dead,” Christine said angrily. “Don’t you dare use the word grandfather when it comes to my child.”

  “Is that why you ran, because you thought I’d be upset you were pregnant?” Leonard asked.

  “No, I left because you wanted me to marry some criminal, and you’d probably have made sure I lost Wes’s baby. Oh, and you’re a two-bit criminal playing mobster,” Christine replied.

  He took a step forward and Aunt Martha said, “Ah no, remember—shot gun. Stay where you are.”

  “I’ve come to take you home, Christine, get your things,” he snapped, tired of playing nice. “You’ve made me spend money trying to find you, I should have looked here first to save time. But Martha is so insignificant I didn’t think until the PI found you.”

  “Sorry, Leonard, she is staying here,” Aunt Martha said jovially.

  “I don’t think there’s anything pleasant waiting for me with you.” Christine shook her head.

  “Do you think if I want you, that I can’t come up these steps with three of these guys and get you?” Leonard’s tone turned deadly. “You think I care about Martha? We can get her in the house and shut her up real quick. Oh, and that baby, do you think some little bastard in your womb could stop me? Do I have to show you who I am?”

  “You could, but you’d have to explain it to them.” Martha pointed.

  Leonard turned to see three sheriff cars coming up. They parked on the cul-de-sac and began to exit the cars. Christine smiled, and Aunt Martha waved at Grant while Leonard fumed silently. Christine assessed Grant as he came up the driveway casually. Two of his deputies flanked him while the others stood close by Leonard’s men. They wore no smiles and simply assessed the men. Grant really was a lot like Sam Elliot, from his long lean body to his salt and pepper mustache. His blue eyes held a light of love when he looked at Martha and went cold as ice when he flicked a glance at Leonard.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said to Martha. “What did he say?”

  “Hello Sheriff,” Leonard said. His tone was again friendly. “There are no problems here, I’m just…”

  “Did I ask you?” Grant said icily. “Or did I ask her?”

  “Well, he went from asking if we needed anything to a thinly veiled threat of beating me up and taking Christine against her will,” Aunt Martha answered.

  “Not so thin when he threatened the bastard baby in my belly, as he called it,” Christine added.

  “Christine, do you want to go anywhere with this man?” Grant asked.

  “Oh, definitely not,” Christine answered.

  “Then it’s goodbye, Mr. Chapel. You can spend the new few hours driving back to Los Alamos,” Grant said. “Sorry you came out here for nothing.”

  “Now wait a minute,” her father blustered.

  “No, you wait a minute.” Grant went down two steps and pointed his finger in Leonard’s face. “You kept Martha from her sister even when she was sick and dying, then you make a pregnant woman run so scared she left her home. I don’t have any clue what else you’ve been up to, but none of it can be good. This is my town, you don’t scare me or my deputies. Leave before I start wondering if the guns your men have are registered and they have a license to carry.”

  “My men are in compliance with the law on their firearms,” Leonard said stiffly.

  “Maybe in Los Alamos, but not here,” Grant answered and then called to his men. “Relieve them of their guns, please. They can file the necessary paperwork to get them back after they return to Los Alamos or forfeit them.”

  “That is completely unnecessary, they are my security team!” Leonard said. Christine saw her father’s face turn red with outrage. Before it would scare her, but now she just wanted to see him get his just desserts.

  “Who did not file the necessary paperwork when driving over state lines armed,” Grant pointed out. “Leave, do not come back, because someone will be stationed at this house for their protection. If Martha gets a thorn in her finger from her rose bushes, I’m coming for you. If Christine gets a Braxton hicks contraction and they say its stress related, I’m coming for you. Leonard Chapel, these ladies are the least of your worries right now. But I should be, and I’m sure when her man comes home, the first place he’ll show up is at your door.” He turned to Martha and said, “Go ahead, sweetheart, say what I told you to say.”

  Aunt Martha grinned. “I, Martha Mosley, state with everyone here as witnesses, Leonard Chapel you are not welcome on my home and property. We are not family or friends, and if you come back I will take it as a direct threat on my life and will take the necessary action to protect my home and person.”

  Grant turned to Christine. “Now you, momma-to be.”

  “I, Christine Chapel, herby state that I do not wish to see or go anywhere with Leonard Chapel. I consider him a threat to me and my unborn child and will take the necessary action to protect us both,” Christine said dutifully.

  “Good, both my deputies and I have heard these statements,” Grant said.

  “Leave my property,” Aunt Martha said cheerfully.

  Without another word, Leonard Chapel turned and walked away. He got back into the car without the help of his men who were handing over their weapons to Grant’s deputies. It didn’t look really good for them, either, since they were putting the weapons in evidence bags. Christine was sure they’d be checked with a national database to see if the weapons were used in any crimes. She had no doubt they were at some point or another. They watched the two dark sedans pull away and a police car follow them.

  “They’ll make sure they are heading toward the state line,” Grant explained. “And we’ll have a car drive by the house every hour or so.”

  “Thank you, Grant,” Christine said gratefully.

  “Thank you, Sheriff.” Aunt Martha’s voice was sweet as sugar.

  He grinned and tipped his hat. “You’re welcome, and Martha, keep the light on sweetheart. I’ll be coming back with my bag and staying until this is over.”

  Aunt Martha slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re just using that as an excuse to move in.”

  “Can you blame me?” Grant grinned and walked down the steps. “See you ladies later.”

  Christine watched a flush of happiness creep up her au
nt’s face and smiled. She was glad her Aunt Martha was so happy and wished her mother had found that kind of happiness in her own life. Caucasian parents adopted her, and while her mother made her feel loved, her father saw her as a thing, a pawn to be used at a later date. But she still had her Aunt Martha and vowed to keep the connection between them strong.

  “You’re going to make a great Aunt Grandma.” Christine wrapped her arms around her aunt’s shoulder as they went inside.

  Aunt Martha patted her arm. “I wish your mother could see you and how beautiful you are pregnant. You are an amazing woman, Christine.”

  “You are a rock star.” Christine grinned at her aunt. “Let’s go make dinner, because this little one is doing summersaults from hunger.”

  Aunt Martha laughed. “Well, let’s go feed him. You know that statement wasn’t legal or anything that Grant had us say. It can’t stand up in court, but making sure we had witnesses to prove we don’t want him or his goon near goes far in case they ever come back and we can’t speak for ourselves.”

  “I know.” Christine laughed. “But they think it’s real, and that’s what counts. They are going to think twice before they come back. Do you really know how to shoot the shotgun?”

  Aunt Martha laughed. “Oh yes, Grant takes me to the range once a month.”

  Christine shook her head as she went to the fridge. “You are a woman of many layers.”

  Together they made dinner, and later that night Christine told Wes about their encounter with her father, and he was none too pleased. He laughed at her Aunt Martha’s words and told her to thank Grant for him. She had no doubt they would get along when they finally met. Still, she hoped that the case being built against her father would soon come to an end so they could see a life without him hanging over their heads. It was a little over a month before Wes came home, and she couldn’t wait to be in his arms again. She pushed Leonard Chapel out of her mind when she finally settled down to sleep, looked at the bassinet that now graced her room, and smiled at the little Air Force bear that sat inside it.

  * * * *

  Christine found out that her father would not give up so easily. A week after he showed up at her aunt’s, Leonard Chapel made his move and he wasn’t in St. George. It was her two-week appointment for the baby, and as usual Aunt Martha went with her. In the doctor’s office her weight was taken and they gave her a glucose test to make sure her sugar levels were okay. From there she was taken to a room, and her midwife measured her stomach, and then she had to have a pelvic exam.

  Beverly, her midwife, smiled. “You’re going to feel a little pressure when I press down, deep breath.”

  “Okay,” Christine said.

  She felt the pressure for sure and winced a little, and when it was over she breathed a sigh of relief. That was not a fun part of being examined while pregnant, that was for sure. It felt like their son, who had yet to be named, was ready to make his entrance into the world.

  “You’ve dilated a little more, you’re up to three centimeters.” Beverly disposed of the gloves and washed her hands before helping her sit up.

  “Oh, Wes will freak out when he hears that.” Christine laughed. “He’s convinced I will go into labor before he gets home.”

  Beverly smiled. “You could be at three centimeters until your water breaks. Your cervix has barely started thinning out. He has time to get home.”

  “That’s the eighteenth of September, we can’t wait.” Christine rubbed her belly.

  “I look forward to meeting him when it’s time for this bun to come out of the oven,” Beverly said. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  Christine fixed her fuchsia sun dress top and matching tights before she said goodbye to Beverly. Outside in the reception area, she made her reoccurring appointment and collected her aunt Martha who was knitting a blanket for the baby. From there, they went baby shopping for a few things for her room. She wanted to have the baby in Utah since she was so comfortable with the midwife clinic she went to. Martha invited Wes to stay with them until Christine and the baby could travel back to New Mexico, and since he’d have leave when he came home. Wes gladly took the offer. Christine appreciated her aunt more than she knew. She’d miss her terribly when they left St. George, but Aunt Martha vowed to visit frequently. She’d embraced the grandmother role that her sister wouldn’t get to be, and Christine loved her for it.

  “I think we have enough to hold you over until you get home to New Mexico and decorate a baby’s room,” Aunt Martha said as they walked out of a familiar baby store chain.

  “Certainly enough diapers,” Christine laughed. “You keep buying them.”

  “I may have never had children, but I’ve had enough friends who have grandkids to know diapers are key,” Aunt Martha said simply. “You’ll thank me.”

  Christine laughed and spied a coffee shop she liked. “Come on, let’s get a cool drink and maybe a sandwich before we go home.”

  “That sounds like perfection to me,” her aunt replied.

  That’s when it happened. They were crossing the parking lot when she heard a car engine being revved. She looked around in time to see the small compact car coming up the parking lot, and he veered toward her. “Chrissie!” her aunt cried out and tried to pull her out the way. Aunt Martha pushed the cart away and grabbed her arm, and that was probably what saved her life. The car barely clipped her hip, but the impact threw her body. She couldn’t stop herself from falling but tried to fall in a way that protected her belly. That meant she landed on the same hip, and this time the pain ran through her body and stole her breath.

  “That guy just tried to run over a pregnant woman!”

  She heard the outraged yell and the chatter as people began to crowd around them.

  “Oh God, call nine-one- one!” she heard Aunt Martha cry out through the haze of pain. “Christine, Chrissie, answer me!”

  “I can hear you, Aunt Martha,” she said and winced in pain. She felt the baby kick and almost cried with joy. “He’s moving, but my hip hurts.”

  “Help’s coming, sweetie.” She could hear the worry mixed in with her aunt’s tears.

  Someone came running up. “We got the guy, we stopped the car and got the guy. The police are on their way.”

  Everything was a flurry of activity from then on as the ambulance and the police arrived. Grant met them at the hospital with the sirens blazing to let them know the guy said he was paid to try to run them down. She didn’t care at that point, she just wanted to make sure her son was okay, and when they put the fetal monitor on and heard the steady rhythm of his heart she cried. How could her father be such an evil person to try and kill her and her unborn child? They couldn’t give her anything strong for her pain, nor did she want them too. She’d take it all as long as the baby was okay. But they did give her something to help her relax and sleep.

  “Babies are resilient,” the doctor said kindly. “We’ll keep you here for a few days, but then you’ll go home and to bed rest. I’ll update your doctor and let them know you’re here.”

  “Auntie M, Wes…” she said sleepily.

  “I’ll let him know, sweetie,” Aunt Martha said. “Grant has someone stationed outside while he takes me home. I’m going to go change and get you a few things and come right back after I speak to Wes.”

  “Okay, tell him we love him.”

  “I will.”

  Those were the last words she remembered as she slipped into the darkness of sleep. But she knew Leonard didn’t have enough money to stave off what was coming for the crime he committed.

  Chapter Seven

  Instead of September eighteenth, Wes got the great news that they were shipping out the first of the month. With the pull out of the troops scheduled for the end of twenty fifteen, the tours had been changed from nine months to six. The new Air Force pilots that flew the medical Black Hawks were in and had transitioned easily. He packed his gear in between teaching his replacement his flight plans and charts. Plus, he talked abo
ut certain terrains and defensive flying. Just because they were saying the war was at an end didn’t mean the insurgents thought so. A ground to air missile could still fire, or they waited until the Black Hawks were low enough to land to fire at them. Many of these guys had flown more than once in deployments, yet sharing information was key to safety.

  After yet another meeting, Wes jogged to his room to finish packing and to talk to Christine. He hadn’t told her yet he was coming home early, and he could hardly wait to see her excitement. It was a sense of relief and a blessing to go home early. At her last doctor’s appointment she was starting to dilate, and the doctor said while new babies could be overdue, she could go into labor at anytime. She had another appointment that day.

  They’d changed their video call times because early morning without coffee, she had become a tad bit grumpy. She was thirty-six weeks, and in two weeks she would be full term. He was practically ready to walk and make the journey home by foot if necessary. He sat in front of the laptop and pressed the call button. He looked down and noticed three missed video calls from her and smiled. She probably had new sonogram pictures to show him. Instead of Christine’s face it was her Aunt Martha. He’d grown fond of the eccentric older woman and her boyfriend they fondly nicknamed “cowboy.”

  “Martha, has she gone into labor?” Wes asked, panicked. He was going to miss the birth of his son.

  “Wes, no.” She stopped, and he could see her lips tremble and tears settle in her eyes. Grant came over and sat down, and she pressed her face into his chest. Wes’s heart dropped.

  He swallowed thickly. “What’s wrong? Where is Christine?”

  Grant was the one who spoke. “They went shopping after her appointment, and a car clipped Christine. She’s in the hospital.”

  “What do you mean a car clipped her? What kind of traffic laws do you have in fucking Utah?” he yelled.

  His heart was in his throat, and all he wanted was to see her face smiling at him and talking about their baby.