Resting his hip against the counter, he casually looked around, satisfied with the projects he had completed on the house. The cabin had been a steal when the owner was ready to unload the property, so the price had been right. He had spent his first year out of the Army living in the ramshackle place, renovating it one step at a time. The electricity, the well, pump, and septic system worked fine but, while the cabin was well built and solid, it needed a complete overhaul on the inside. He opened up some of the inner walls to offer more space, new insulation, new windows, and refinished the floors and gutted the kitchen and bathrooms before adding the utility room. Though it might not be a showplace, even now, it was home.
And, most importantly, it was off the beaten path.
The bubbling of the stew captured his attention and he refocused on dinner. Pouring it into a bowl, he took the crispy, buttery bread from the oven and moved over to the table to sit. The cabin did not have a dining room, but the kitchen extended toward the living room and held a small table. It did not matter if it was just him eating, his mother’s words on dining etiquette had been drilled into him. “No matter how great the feast or poor the fare…you should always eat at the table with the television turned off. Mealtime is for conversation.”
As he sat, he looked over at the dogs lounging on their floor cushions. Noticing his attention, Scarlett raised her eyes to stare at him. “I know, girl, it’s just me sitting here, but I’m a creature of habit, I guess.” He finished eating and rinsed out the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher. With a final wipe of the kitchen counter, he moved into the living room and settled onto the sofa.
The walls were thick, hewn logs and the fireplace was formed out of stone from the mountains. The sofa was tan and the deep-cushioned chair was brown, so the red braided rug on the floor brought a bit of color into the dark room.
Scarlett moved to climb onto the sofa with him, her head in his lap. He did not bother to turn on the TV knowing, after a rescue, his mind needed to process the events. And he needed to focus on the fact it was a search and rescue…not recovery. I did enough of those in Afghanistan. Thank God I haven’t had to see another one since then. It felt worthy to find the body of a fallen soldier that had been lost, but to find them alive would have been so much better.
He sipped his whiskey, his gaze on the unlit fireplace. He forced his thoughts to Jimmy. His tear-stained face, with hope flaring in his eyes as he looked at Scarlett. The emotion pouring from his parents when their arms encircled their child again.
Other rescues slid thought his mind as well. Children who had wandered away. Hikers who had become dehydrated and disoriented in the woods. A teenage runaway. Going with Blaise to find Grace’s car when she had wrecked in the mountains.
Then his mind, as it often did, moved to a search from two years ago. Called by Jack for a special task, he first had to track several women who had been drugged and had wandered into the woods. Then, the Saints needed him to find Blaise’s sister, Bayley, and another woman, who were running for their lives, lost in the woods at night.
Nathan and Scarlett had found Bayley easily, but as she was reunited with her brother and her boyfriend, Nick, another Saint, she begged him to find the woman she had been running with. As they left, he and Scarlett continued their search deeper into the woods. He had no idea that what he would find would stay with him for so long.
2
Two Years Earlier
After seeing Bayley safely reunited with Blaise and Nick, Nathan tromped through the woods, following Scarlett, noting when she stopped suddenly. He approached cautiously, observing his dog’s stance, alert and still. Looking through the trees, he saw a figure in the moonlight.
“Agnes?”
The woman, whose face was hidden in shadows, replied, “Yes. Please stay where you are. I was supposed to meet the FBI agent, Harlan, but he was shot.”
“I know. What can I do to help?”
“I need protection and…he’s the only one I trust.”
Her voice was melodic, even with the shakiness of fear. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while the other stroked Scarlett’s head, wondering what to do.
“I was going into witness protection. I don’t trust anyone other than the man who I had contact with.”
Pulling out his phone, he called Blaise. “I need you to do something, but no questions.”
“You got it,” Blaise assured.
“Get to Harlan, the agent, and tell him to call my number. That’s all.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he promised.
Nathan and Agnes passed the time barely speaking as he knelt next to his dog, his hand caressing her. He introduced Agnes to Scarlett and a small smile slipped over her lips.
“Is she named after the heroine in Gone with the Wind?” she asked, softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He looked toward her and smiled, finding the feminine, yet husky, voice reaching through the dark woods and encircling him. “I loved that movie. My grandmother used to watch it when it would come on TV and, one Christmas, when my parents bought her a video player, I got her that as her first movie. We’d watch it over and over.” Ducking his head, he chuckled in embarrassment, wondering why he offered that tidbit to a stranger…I’ve never told anyone that. “I guess that sounds kind of wimpy for a teenage boy, doesn’t it?”
The wind blew gently, rustling the leaves overhead. Agnes swallowed audibly, as though fighting tears. “I think it sounds beautiful.”
He stared at what he could see of her face, still in the shadows, his heart warm at her show of acceptance. They continued to sit, talking quietly, while waiting on the phone call. She kept looking up and he finally looked upward as well, asking, “What are you looking at?”
“Oh…I, well…I’ve just never noticed so many stars before.”
Nodding, he explained, “It’s the mountains. We’re far away from the city lights, so it makes the night that much darker and the stars appear that much brighter.”
“Oh…” she replied, her voice full of wonder as she continued to look skyward. “I think that there’s probably a lot of things I’ve never really noticed before.”
“Maybe now you can,” he said.
She sighed, replying, “Maybe…maybe someday.”
A few minutes later, his phone rang. Answering it, he said, “Here she is,” and he handed his phone to Agnes. She stepped forward, still in the forest shadows, and took it from his outstretched hand. She said very little, agreeing to whatever Harlan was laying out. Disconnecting, she handed the phone back.
“What now?” he asked.
Agnes fiddled with the bottom of her jacket for a second, saying, “I need to get back to the road where we were run off. Harlan will have someone there to meet me.”
“You sure you can you trust him?”
“Yeah. He told me who to look for and, well, I’ve got no other options.”
“So, you’re going into witness protection?”
Nodding slowly, Agnes replied, “I have no choice. I have to make things right.” Shaking her head, a groan slipped out. “Bayley quoted Agatha Christie just before she left. It fit so perfectly.”
He looked at her quizzical gaze, and she quoted, “ ‘I’ve had a long life of experience in noticing evil, fancying evil, suspecting evil and going forth to do battle with evil.’ ” Sighing heavily, she added, “I’ve got to see this through. Or else evil wins.”
His heart pounded roughly as her words hit him, and he was struck with the realization that the woman in front of him was the bravest person he had ever met. Unable to think of anything to say that would come close to touching her strength, he stood silent, cursing his inadequacy.
Her gaze dropped to Scarlett, still sitting next to him, with her tongue lolling to the side. “I’d like for you and Scarlett to lead the way back and I’ll walk behind.”
Brows drawn down, he asked, “Why? Why can’t I see you?”
“I’d rather stay a bit of
a mystery to you…it feels safer that way.”
With a short nod, he turned, deciding that to give her what she needed was the best way for him to honor her strength. Looking down, he patted Scarlett’s head. “Come on, girl. Let’s go back.”
With his dog happily jogging along in the woods, Nathan followed at a pace slow enough for Agnes to follow. As they approached the road, he saw a dark SUV parked with two men standing next to it, their dress and demeanor screaming FBI. They approached Agnes and hustled her into the back seat. As the SUV made a three-point turn on the narrow road, it offered him a glimpse of a dark-haired, young woman, her eyes piercing his as a slight smile played about her lips before she lifted her hand in a small wave goodbye. He felt the strangest sense of sadness seeing the enigmatic woman taken away.
When the rescue was over and he had made his way back to the Saints, he learned that, while Agnes had been born into a crime family involved in human trafficking, she had risked everything to work with the FBI to put a stop to it.
Tossing back the rest of the whiskey, Nathan stood, his morose memories still as fresh as if it had all taken place yesterday. It made no sense to spend so much time thinking of a woman he would never see again. Rinsing his glass, he looked over at the dogs and called, “Come on…let’s go.”
They rose from the rugs and dutifully followed him outside. The light from the porch illuminated their path as he let them run to take care of their business while he walked to the kennel. The woods were still, the little creatures having already burrowed in for the night. The crickets chirped and, in the distance, he could hear the frogs croaking from the creek.
He grinned, thinking of his father’s words to him when he was younger and they were walking over the farmland toward the woods at the back of the property.
“Your mama knew what she was doing when she named you. Francis Nathan Washington. ‘Course, I always wanted to call you Nathan, after my grandpa Nathaniel, who was a good and kind man…probably one of the best men I ever met in my life. But, your mama was raised Catholic, and since we were living on a farm with all these animals, she said she wanted to name you after a saint that loved nature. So, son, that’s where you got the Francis from. You’ve gotta love of nature inside you, boy, and know that nature comes from God. Just always appreciate it, treat it right, and respect it.”
Looking up, he was able to see the stars bright in the sky, as the moon rose over the tree line. He grinned, thinking it had been a couple of weeks since he called his parents. Deciding to do that the next day, he patted his thigh and whistled, calling the dogs over to him. Placing Red, Beau, and Persi back into their runs, with goodnight rubs and hugs, he shut the door.
His hand resting on Scarlett’s head as she stood next to him, he filled his lungs with clean, mountain air before walking back to the house. Once inside, he locked the doors and turned out the lights. Climbing the stairs to the loft bedroom, he moved into the bathroom as Scarlett jumped up on the bed.
After a quick shower, he trimmed his thick beard. His light brown eyes dropped over his body’s reflection in the mirror. He had packed on a few more pounds since his time in the Army, but daily workouts with the dogs had managed to keep it mostly muscle. A few minutes later, he climbed into bed, grinning when Scarlett groaned as she shifted to the side. Rolling over, he stared at the stars through the window, still wondering about the sense of disquiet he felt, unable to discern the reason.
Sighing deeply, Agatha Christel lay in bed, staring at the stars through her window, for once taking little comfort from them. The night was cloudless, giving her a perfect view, but in the city, they were not as bright as they could be. And she knew firsthand how bright they could really shine, in the right environment.
She was the only employee of the women’s shelter that lived on the premises and was given the bedroom rent free. The attic room she called her own was small, but cozy. The brass bedframe was an antique that someone had donated to the center when getting rid of some furniture. The sheets were clean, although worn soft with time. The handmade quilt, in blues, yellows, and greens, had been made by one of the women who had stayed for a while in the shelter. A dresser painted white was next to the bed, a small lamp on top. The only other piece of furniture in the room was an old, wooden rocking chair with another quilt resting on the back, her latest paperback on the seat.
Besides a tiny closet, she had a half bathroom with only a toilet and sink. She used the shared shower downstairs, but did not mind. Just having her own half bathroom made her attic room even more special. It was far from the opulent rooms she had occupied when she was growing up but, for now, it felt like heaven. Safe. Comfortable.
Letting out another sigh, she tried to force her mind to the tasks on her to-do list for tomorrow, but as they always seemed to do at night, when she was feeling like this, her thoughts wandered to that night in the woods two years earlier. Brilliant stars, so much more intense than they were here, sparkling overhead. The rustling of leaves in the slight breeze…and the sight of the handsome man with the beautiful dog, sitting with her until she could be led to safety.
The memory had not faded with time, instead further cementing itself in her mind. His face remained clear, his voice just as mesmerizing. In a world of harsh words and guttural demands, his words had been calming.
Sighing, she turned over and punched her pillow in frustration. Memories of him were all she had and all she would ever have. He was too good. And, even if she were worthy of him, it would be too dangerous to do anything about it. Closing her eyes, she willed sleep to come. After all, I can dream, can’t I?
Present Day
* * *
“Heard you had some excitement last night.”
Nathan looked up as he came out of the kennel the next morning, smiling when his gaze landed on Blaise walking toward him, a German Shepard trotting at his side. As the big dog rushed over, Nathan knelt to give the beautiful girl a head rub.
“Grace let you take Gypsy out for a visit today?”
“Yeah. She had her at the nursing home yesterday so Gypsy was indoors almost all day. I figured I’d bring her here this morning and let her have a chance to run around a bit with Scarlett.”
They watched the dogs sniff each other before trotting off together toward the house. “Come on in,” he invited. “Got the coffee on.”
Settling on the front porch chairs with steaming mugs of coffee, their feet up on the rail, the mood between them was relaxed as the they watched the dogs play in the yard.
“So, yesterday?” Blaise prompted.
“Jack called…a little boy staying at Bethany’s cabins got lost. Scarlett found him quickly, and he was fine once he was back with his family.”
“You do good work.”
Quiet for a few minutes, he eventually replied, “I like what I do. My dad always says, ‘a man who likes what he does will always be good at it’.”
“Is it enough?”
He turned his head and caught Blaise looking at him intently, making him wonder what was really on his mind. “My work? With the dogs?”
“Yeah. If it is, that’s great. But, I’ve sensed a restlessness in you lately, so I wondered if you were…I don’t know…stuck in a rut?”
Nodding, he started to catch on. “You’re talking about Jack’s offer to work for the Saints.”
“Not work for the Saints, Nathan. Be one.”
He cocked his head to the side, not sure what Blaise was getting at. “I don’t follow you.”
Shaking his head slightly, Blaise chuckled, “I’m getting that.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, catching Nathan’s eyes and holding them. “Look, lots of people do good work, every day, in a lot of different jobs. Help people. Take care of people. Teach our children. Make the world a better place. And they never see the underbelly of society, not like we do. For those of us that do see it? We strive to give society that balance again. The balance they, if we do our jobs right, never realize they’re mis
sing. We carve out a bit of that cancer so that everyone else can keep doing their job to make society a good place.”
Looking out to the woods he thought on that for a minute. He felt, rather than saw, as Blaise leaned back in his chair again, giving him the time to mull over everything he had said. The Saints protected people in a way that they did not even realize they were being protected. He truly admired them for that. What they did put them at risk, but they did it anyway. He was part of a team that lived that way once…and look lost them. The ensuing silence settled easily as they sipped their coffee for several minutes.
“When I was first approached by Jack to come work for him, he had an idea of what he wanted to accomplish, but it was something most people had never seen before,” Blaise eventually added, without looking at him. “At our first team meeting, there was me, Cam, Bart, and Chad. I looked around the table and could not imagine a more diverse group of men. None of us had the same experience. Or backgrounds. I couldn’t figure out what the hell we had in common.”
Blaise sipped his coffee, then, continued, “By the time the Saints were getting contracts, we had Luke and Marc on board, and I began to understand. Jack wasn’t interested in us being cookie-cutter investigators. He thrived on us bringing totally different skill sets to the team. Sure, we had to learn investigation and security, but he still emphasized that we were all different.” Chuckling, he said, “I swear, if it wasn’t for Jack’s dogged determination that we were going to be a successful company, I think we might have packed it in that first year. But, we persevered. Took the contracts no one wanted and built a reputation. That was about five years ago. Within two years we were growing and thriving.”
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