“Horses won’t be a problem,” Nicki said, blushing. “I never learned to ride in the first place, and I don’t think it’s smart to try to learn now.”
“After the baby comes, then,” he said, noting that her cheeks flamed and she’d stopped looking at him.
“If I’m still here.” Her voice wavered.
In passing, Jackson paused long enough to lightly pat her shoulder. He knew better than to offer a hug the way he had after her fright in the cemetery, but he desperately wanted her to know he accepted her, just as she was.
Subconsciously, he had already determined her innocence—although he wasn’t free to say so. In a way, that made the situation worse. Not only was Nicki Johnson clueless about how he felt, she didn’t deserve to be under siege. And that was precisely what was going on. Nicki was standing firm against unseen forces bent on harming her, and there was nothing anybody could do to stop the onslaught, except find the culprits and send them to jail.
It was Jackson’s fondest hope that he would be instrumental in doing just that.
* * *
A sense of melancholy kept nibbling away at Nicki’s bright morning mood. She usually greeted each new day with enthusiasm and, standing in the lovely, modern kitchen, cooking for two appreciative men, had only added to her joy. Until Jackson had brought up Arianna, that is.
She followed the K-9 officer out onto the porch and watered her potted geraniums while she watched him briefly exercise Titan before going back inside. The big, black Lab was so full of life, so happy with the slightest praise, Nicki actually envied him.
She could just imagine the look on Jackson’s face if she ever admitted she was jealous of the affection he gave his dog! Yet, she was. It was a family thing, a belonging thing. Harold and Jackson and Titan were a tight-knit unit. They cared about each other and it showed. A lot.
Which pointed out the fact that she remained an outsider. She felt like a child looking in the window of a candy store and yearning to taste the sweetness borne of fitting in.
Nicki sighed. She had given her life to Christ and knew He accepted her. So did Pastor Eaton, and probably most of his congregation. Yet, Nicki continued to feel as if she were standing separate. There was a big difference between being a part of a large, impersonal group as opposed to being welcomed by a few individuals who knew your deepest secrets and loved you, anyway.
Perhaps that was what Arianna had been searching for, too, when she’d gotten involved with such bloodthirsty criminals.
Pensive, Nicki leaned against one of the carved porch posts. Titan had been busy sniffing a small patch of scraggly lawn while Harold tended to chores in the barn. Jackson was back inside, dressing for work.
The dog unexpectedly galloped onto the porch and nudged her hand with his nose.
“Yes, I do need a buddy,” she crooned, wiggling her fingers behind his ears. “You know that, don’t you?”
Instead of continuing to pant and wag his tail, Titan shied away.
“What is it, boy? What’s the matter?”
Nicki took a step toward him. He took two steps back. “Titan? It’s me. We’re friends. Don’t you remember?”
The dog cringed, put his tail between his legs and left the porch.
Nicki followed, concerned. “Titan?”
He crept farther away from her, slinking as if he were trying to make himself invisible.
She stopped on the lawn. Watched. Waited to see what he’d do next.
To her horror, the dog approached the ranch truck, the same vehicle they had all ridden in the night before, and plopped into a sitting position next to one set of rear, dual wheels.
His ears were pinned back, his body was trembling.
There was no doubt in Nicki’s mind. Titan had just found another bomb!
TWELVE
Jackson was buckling on the belt that held his holster when he heard Nicki start to shriek. She sounded more frantic and panicky this morning than she had when she’d fallen over the disinterred corpse the night before.
He hit the living room at a run and straight-armed the screen door, taking in the entire scene in a flash.
Nicki was bent over, tugging on Titan’s collar to force him to go with her. The dog was balking. All four paws slid along the ground, leaving ruts in the gravel.
“What are you doing? Let him go!” Jackson shouted at her.
When she lifted her gaze to his, he saw sheer terror. Her blue eyes were wide, her lips parted, her skin pale.
She made several failed attempts to speak before she finally managed to say, “Bomb!”
“Where?”
“Truck.”
“How do you know?” By this time, Jackson had reached her side. He snapped a leash on the dog’s collar and took command. With one arm around Nicki and the other controlling Titan, he hurried them away.
Harold met them at the door to the barn. “What’s all the yelling out here? You two are scarin’ the chickens right off their nests.”
“Nicki says Titan alerted,” Jackson explained as he passed both his charges to the older man. “You stay put with them. I’ll call Boomer and get the bomb squad out here to check the truck.”
“If that’s where the explosive is supposed to be, I reckon I’ll back up a tad more,” Harold said, slipping an arm around Nicki’s shoulders. “Come on. We’ll go into the barn.”
She hesitated, twisting away. “No. I want to stay right here.”
“Then think of me and the dog,” Harold reasoned. “We need to take cover, just in case.”
“But...Jackson.”
“He knows what he’s doing. He’s a pro, remember?”
Listening to their conversation as he walked away, Jackson wondered if his uncle was giving him too much credit. He was certainly encountering a lot of glitches, lately. Of course it would help if he knew who his adversaries were. Since the perps had no real names, other than those who were deceased, it was difficult to know what kinds of precautions to take.
Danger had obviously followed Nicki to the ranch, he realized with dismay. Slade had probably figured as much when he’d suggested hiring her in the first place. So, what now?
Jackson kept his distance from the suspected explosives as he reported the situation to dispatch by phone. One important question was whether the bomb was rigged to go off when he started to drive, or triggered remotely to better choose its victims. Either was possible.
Whichever it turned out to be, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere this morning, and maybe not later, either. As long as a serious threat existed, he was going to have to safeguard Nicki. That was all there was to it. When she had accepted the job at the ranch, she had become his responsibility.
Jackson huffed and shook his head. “Who am I kidding? I’ve been watching out for her, thinking about her, from the first moment we met.”
Which was not that long ago, he reminded himself. So, what in the world was going on? Why did it seem as if they had known each other for ages? And why was there such a strong bond forming? Yes, she needed help from someone. But why him? Why now? And why was he getting the idea that divine guidance was influencing him? It had been a long time since he’d felt that kind of unquestionable connection to his faith, to his Lord.
Perhaps this was God’s way of helping him transition back into the life he had once enjoyed. He had left the military of his own free will, yet he knew in his heart that Titan wasn’t the only one who suffered from disturbing combat memories. The difference between him and the traumatized dog was that he had been able to mask his occasional uneasiness while Titan couldn’t.
There were many former soldiers coping with far worse emotional scars, Jackson knew. Men and women who might never feel safe again, no matter where they were or what they were doing. He was thankful that his psyche was still fairly intact, but he also feared that if he failed here, if he failed to safeguard Nicolette Johnson, he might never get over it.
“That’s not the real problem,” he muttered, pacing the y
ard and keeping an eye on the truck from a distance. “It’s not all about me. It’s about her. And that baby.”
The basic truth of those affirmations hit him squarely in the gut. The woman was practically a stranger, and her child wasn’t his. Yet, he already sensed an emotional attachment. To them both.
He glanced toward the barn. Harold must have closed the bay doors just in case something went wrong. That made sense. However, it also meant that Jackson could no longer personally watch Nicki.
One quick scan of the truck and the otherwise empty yard was all it took him to make up his mind. Boomer and the ATF bomb squad might not arrive for hours, depending on how far they had to travel, and what other cases they might currently be working.
So, in the meantime, he was going to stay close to Nicki. He had to. It was more than a job, now. It was a sacred duty.
Wheeling, he headed for the barn.
* * *
Nicki was about to sneeze when the squeak of the door and Jackson’s sudden appearance startled it out of her. “Whoa! You scared me.”
“Sorry. I wanted you to know that the bomb squad has been notified. Are you okay?”
She had pressed her index finger across her upper lip directly under her nose. “Allergies, I guess. Must be the hay. Do we have to stay out here?”
“I suppose not.” He looked to Titan. “I’ll take the dog and do a sweep of the yard and house, then we’ll talk about relocating.”
“Check the house first, will you?” she asked with a forced smile. “I have kitchen chores to finish.”
“I hardly think that’s important right now.”
“Maybe not to you. But I’d feel a lot better if I had something to do besides sit in a barn and sniffle.” She could tell from his expression that he was still on high alert so she added, “I can’t hide all the time. I won’t. Besides, I trust you.”
“You should trust the dog more,” Jackson said flatly.
Nicki saw a chance to lighten his mood. “I was talking to the dog,” she quipped. “But you’re helpful, too. He’d have trouble dialing 911 with those big paws.”
To her relief, the K-9 officer smiled. It was lopsided and wry but it was a smile, nonetheless. “Has anybody ever told you that you have a strange sense of humor?”
“Often.” She chuckled softly. “Since you can’t go to work this morning, what’s plan B?”
“We wait.”
“That’s what I was afraid you were going to say.” She sighed.
“Patience is a virtue.”
Nicki sniffled again. “Yeah, well, it’s not one of mine.” She gestured toward the half-open door. “Please? Check for me? I want to go back to the house.”
“What’s the hurry?” Jackson was scowling and staring at her as if trying to read her mind.
“Nothing nefarious, if that’s what you’re getting at,” she insisted. “I feel more at home in a kitchen, that’s all. I don’t like all this open space.”
Harold piped up. “She’s scared of chickens, too.”
“What?”
It was Nicki’s turn to frown. “They startled me, that’s all. How was I to know they roosted all over the barn and were so territorial?”
“You have a lot more serious things to worry about than them,” Jackson said soberly. “All right. Nobody can get in or out of here without us seeing them now that it’s daylight. If Titan doesn’t find anything else wrong, we’ll all go back to the house. Harold and I can take turns standing guard from there.”
His no-nonsense approach made Nicki shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself and nodded agreement. This mess was all her fault. It had to be, even though she had no idea what was going on. The earlier attacks had been directed at her and these later ones probably were, too, although she didn’t know why anybody would put a bomb in the ranch truck when they could just as easily have targeted her personal car.
To eliminate my guardian, she realized with chagrin. Getting rid of Jackson would leave her with one less person to champion her cause, and protect her from whoever they sent next. Murke had been the first, the phone threats and flower bomb had been second. And, chances were, the shot fired at the police car had been the third—not to mention any other times when she might have escaped without even knowing she was under attack, such as from the shadow behind the truck stop that had scared her silly.
And then there was this morning. The threats weren’t going to stop. Not even out here where she’d thought she’d be safe.
Tears briefly clouded her vision before she blinked them away, and lifted her chin to affirm resolve. They were not going to beat her. Not now. Not ever. She wasn’t alone anymore. God was looking after her. After all, He had sent Jackson, Harold and Titan. What more could she ask? What more could she possibly need?
Jackson was leading his dog out the barn door when she called after him. “One more thing.”
He turned. “What?”
“My lessons. Remember? You said you’d teach me to shoot.” She let her smile spread as encouragement. “I think it’s high time I learned how to protect myself.”
Behind her, she heard the older man groan. “She’ll shoot herself in the leg.”
“I will not,” Nicki insisted. “Well, how about it? Can we start before the bomb guys get here?”
“If that’s what you want,” Jackson said in parting.
Nicki whirled to face Harold. “What makes you think I’ll be careless? I won’t, you know.”
“That’s what all novices say until they actually hold a firearm in their hands and have to watch every movement, every second. It’s not like taking piano lessons or learning to ride a bike. You can never let down your guard. Never.”
“Good,” she said, meaning it fully. “Because if I aim at anything, I intend to be able to hit it.”
“Even a person?”
She rested a hand at her waist, palm open, to unconsciously cradle her unborn child. “If they threatened my family, I think I could act to protect them,” she said. “It has to be better to be able to defend yourself than to have to wait for help to arrive that may come too late.” Pausing, she glanced at the door. “Like the bomb squad.”
“Gotta agree with you there,” Harold said. “Just don’t get careless. That’s all I ask.”
Sober and thoughtful, Nicki agreed. “I won’t. If I could have chosen my relatives instead of getting stuck with a criminal cousin, I wouldn’t have to learn to shoot in the first place.”
“That is where it all leads back to, isn’t it?” the older man asked.
“Yes.” Nicki had run out of arguments, good or bad. “It has to be because of Arianna. And whatever that code was that she mentioned before she died, I sure wish I could turn it over to the police and simplify my life.”
Shivering, she added, “Before more people die for nothing.”
* * *
Jackson took his time inspecting the ranch house and grounds. It was amazing that Titan had alerted to the tampering with the truck in the first place. Normally, working dogs knew when they were on or off duty, and behaved like the family pet when they weren’t wearing their official K-9 gear. Titan’s consisted of a Kevlar vest as well as a harness and leash, although if he’d stuck his big, wet nose into a bomb and it had exploded, the vest wouldn’t have saved his life. Nothing would.
Finishing with the house and its environs, Jackson praised his canine partner and returned with him to the barn.
He almost burst into laughter when he saw what Harold and Nicki were doing. The older man had grabbed a hen by its spindly legs to hold it still and Nicki was tentatively touching its black-and-white, mottled feathers. The hen wasn’t acting particularly happy about being held, but at least she wasn’t trying to peck anybody. Yet. One look at Titan approaching sent her into a frenzy of beating wings and loud squawking.
Nicki jumped back. “Whoa. I guess she thinks the dog is a predator.”
“Something like that.” Jackson couldn’t help grinning. “Suppose yo
u two quit playing with that chicken and come back to the house with me? I can give Nicki a crash course in gun safety while we wait for the bomb squad.”
“And I can start fixing lunch after that,” she replied, eyeing the still-ruffled feathers of the hen she’d been touching. “I’m glad we’re not having fried chicken. I don’t think my new friend would like that.”
“I’d never tell,” Jackson assured her. He stood at the doorway, rechecked the empty yard, then drew his gun and motioned for his charges to proceed. “Go ahead. I’ll cover you.”
Nicki made a face. “I’m starting to feel like one of those mechanical rabbits in a shooting gallery. Run this way and duck, run back that way and duck, then turn around and do it all over again.”
“This, too, shall pass,” Harold said, cupping her elbow while his nephew and Titan stood guard.
“I have to confess, I haven’t been a Christian long enough to know a lot of verses, but that sounds biblical.”
“I have my spiritual moments,” Harold confided. “Do you go to church regularly?”
“Yes. But under the circumstances, I don’t think it would be fair to endanger anyone there by sticking to my normal schedule, do you?”
“Don’t worry,” Jackson said over his shoulder as she passed behind him. “We’ll get this problem of yours solved, and you can start living a normal life again. I promise.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
He gritted his teeth, wishing he could give her a more definitive answer. There was none. Nobody knew how long it would be before whoever was targeting Nicki got tired of the so-called game and quit—or unearthed the information she was supposed to be hiding, and no longer needed to harass her for it.
There had to be something they were not seeing—some clue or hint they had missed. Because if there wasn’t, there was no way he could ever hope to guarantee her future safety—not to mention that of her unborn child.
Watching Harold shepherd her through the kitchen door, Jackson felt his gut clench. When all this was over, when he was finally able to think straight, he was going to ask Nicolette Johnson for a real date. And then maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to get to know each other on a personal level without having to deal with outside forces repeatedly trying to harm them.
Explosive Secrets (Texas K-9 Unit) Page 12
