by Cate Nolan
Jackson crouched there waiting, wondering. Had he been seen? It made sense that the person or persons who were out there had watched him enter the house. How long would they wait before making a move?
Just when Jackson was beginning to debate the wisdom of trying to reach Callie, another sound echoed through the night, a series of crackles, as if some creature was scrambling through the underbrush.
Seconds later a bear lumbered out from the tree line, paused, sniffed the air and looked around the clearing. Jackson slumped back against the house. For the first time in his life, he was relieved to see a wild animal. He didn’t like that it had turned and was headed toward the car and Callie, but he could scare it off. Better this than human predators.
Jackson fired a shot into the air. The bear lifted his head, sniffed and turned back into the woods. Jackson waited a few minutes after the bear had crashed out of sight before easing down the steps. He didn’t want his actions to encourage a return visit.
As soon as he reached the opposite side of the car, Jackson slouched down and grabbed for the door handle. When he opened the door, the sudden flare of light revealed Callie huddled under the dashboard. Good. She’d shown a natural instinct to hide rather than run. Jackson reached to help her up, taking care to keep an eye out in case the bear returned. “Are you okay?”
“What happened?”
“There was a bear. I fired a shot to scare it off.”
“A bear?” She burst out laughing.
Okay, he’d seen people react oddly to stress before. “Callie? Come on. Let’s get you into the house so you can calm down.”
She only laughed harder. “I know this is stress release I’m feeling, but honestly, Jackson, you’ve got to admit it’s pretty funny.”
He really wasn’t sure what was funny about a bear coming at her and he said so.
“It’s funny because it’s only a bear, and you and I both probably had the same reaction to hearing that branch snap. You thought they’d found us again, didn’t you?
“I did.” Tension tightened his jaw just remembering his instant reaction. Recalling the men he’d been too willing to blame.
“And I’m sure you were relieved to see the bear.”
He nodded, beginning to see where she was going.
“Who in their right mind is relieved to be confronted by a bear?”
Jackson shook his head. “You’re one of a kind, Cal. One of a kind. Let me get you inside, then I’ll unpack.”
Callie reached for her bags. “If I help, we’ll be done half as fast. And one of us can keep watch in case our friend returns.”
Jackson started to protest, but she was already marching up the path, arms loaded with their purchases. He grabbed a couple of bags and started up after her.
* * *
Callie rested her bags down on the porch so she could have a hand free to open the door. Bear or no bear, she almost didn’t want to go inside. The porch was so peaceful. Imagine what it must be like to sit out here on a summer evening. She inhaled the cold, clean air and for the first time in days felt the stress begin to ease. It seemed Jackson had found the perfect place for her to hide away.
Those feelings were confirmed as she opened the door into a winter wonderland. A trio of Christmas trees clustered in the corner perfumed the air with a fresh pine scent. Tiny white lights edged the ceiling and looped along the far wall. Callie gasped as she headed over to the wall of sheer glass. Jackson wasn’t going to be happy about that, but she was. The snow lent an eerie white glow to the night and she could see the lake. Outside lights graced the trees closer to the house and lit a pathway down to the lake.
“Thank You, Lord. Thank You for this special place to celebrate the peace and love of Your son’s birth.”
She turned around to find Jackson watching her. She gave him a quick smile. “Just talking to God again.”
He nodded. “One of these days you’ll have to tell me about that. But now, if it’s all the same to you, I think we should get settled in and get some sleep.”
Callie agreed, though she doubted either of them would sleep much. He needed to because he’d done all the driving while she’d napped. Would he? From what she’d observed so far, there wasn’t much chance.
She waited until they’d finished touring the cabin and were ready to turn in before offering her help. “Jackson, I think I’m beginning to understand what you mean about never being able to relax, never being completely sure you’re safe.”
He stopped drawing the drapes across the lake window. He lowered his arms and crossed them as he turned to look at her. “What brought this on?”
“The bear. I know he wasn’t really a danger to us, not like the guys who are after me, but the way we reacted to him, the immediate surge of adrenaline and the fear they’d found us again, that doesn’t leave, does it? It becomes a new way of life.”
He stood there, arms crossed, staring down at his feet for a long moment before answering. “That’s my reality. For you, it should gradually get better. We have witnesses who have been in the program a long time. Some eventually feel safe enough to withdraw. The person who was after them either dies or goes to prison. Whatever, they feel the threat is removed. For others, WITSEC becomes a way of life. But I’m told, even for them, eventually the urgency wears off. Little by little you stop looking over your shoulder. It takes time, though.”
She nodded. “Thanks, I think. I’ll try to remember that. But I meant in a more immediate way. You don’t ever really get time off, do you? There’s no one else to relieve you. I know it’s because of how we had to run, how we have to keep changing direction. But this has to be hard on you. You need sleep.”
“I’ve learned to do without.”
“You’re supposed to be protecting me, but since it’s just the two of us, we could take turns being on watch. That way you’d get to sleep once in a while.”
He didn’t laugh outright. She gave him credit for that, but she could see he didn’t like her idea.
“No offense, Callie, but you’re not trained as a bodyguard or anything, are you?”
“No, but I am used to being responsible for a class of five-year-olds. That certainly teaches you observation skills. I’m not saying I’d be able to fight off an attack, but I can at least keep watch if you need me to. I’ve had plenty of time to sleep in the car. I can stay up awhile if you want to catch a nap.”
“Thanks, Cal. I really mean that. I appreciate you thinking of me.” He gave her a quick hug. “I’m a light sleeper, and we should be plenty safe here. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
“Okay.” She fiddled with an ornament on the tree. “How long do you expect us to stay here?”
“I’d like to stay until we have to head in for trial, but until I know how they keep tracking us, I can’t be sure.”
“Okay. Good night, then.”
She turned to head into the room he’d shown her.
“Callie?”
She turned back, glad for the chance to talk a few more minutes. “Yes?”
“Are you comfortable alone here with me? I don’t want to keep you isolated if it bothers you. It just seems safest.”
He waited for her response. There was tension in the way he held himself, as if her answer really mattered, so she gave the question serious thought. Comfortable was a good word to describe how she felt with him—if she was talking safety. But the marshal unsettled her, too. Being with him was exciting, intriguing, even fun at times. But comfortable? Not if she allowed herself to think how much she was growing to like him. Those kinds of thoughts could have her end up with a broken heart.
“I’m fine. Whatever you think is best. I don’t want to be a burden.”
He studied her for what felt like a long time. Then he nodded. “Okay. Tell me if it changes.”
She was almost to her door, and his words were so soft, she wasn’t sure she was meant to hear them, but they rested lightly on her heart. “You’re never a burden.”
TEN
After two days of hanging out together in the cabin, the novelty had worn thin and the idea of spending more time cooped up like this lay heavy. Callie was getting restless, and that worried Jackson. Restless people took foolish risks. She was puttering around in the kitchen, so Jackson headed there. “Cal, we need to talk.”
She eyed him with an expression of fear. “Did they get away?”
“What? Oh, no. Nothing along those lines.”
“Please don’t scare me like that.” She wiped the sparkling clean counter with the sponge, scrubbing at an invisible spot. Probably to avoid looking at him.
“Callie.”
She looked up and he saw the tears glistening in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She waved him away. “I’m just feeling emotional.”
He figured he had a pretty good idea why. It was Christmas Eve, and she was locked away in a lonely cabin in the middle of nowhere. He wished he could take her out someplace fancy, but he didn’t dare. That would have been one of those foolish risks he wanted to warn her about.
“I guess I’ll just go read or something until it’s time to eat.”
The dejection was so clear in her voice, but he knew what he could say to bring a smile back to her lips. “We should have an early dinner.”
“Really? I guess you can eat without me. I’m still stuffed from lunch.”
“What if I told you the reason was so we could attend the Candlelight Christmas Eve service in town?”
Delight lit Callie’s eyes so they sparkled like sapphires. “Really? You would do that for me?”
He poured himself a cup of coffee from the ever-ready pot and gestured to see if she wanted one. When she shook her head, he settled onto one of the kitchen stools. “It’s not such a hardship. Once upon a time Christmas services were the most important part of my Christmas celebration. My parents made a point of teaching us the true meaning of Christmas.”
Callie turned the burner on and began to boil water for tea. “Can I ask how you fell away?”
Jackson sipped his coffee before setting the mug on the counter. He leaned back, elbows behind him on the counter as he tried to figure out how to explain something that wasn’t clear even to him. “I guess I’m your stereotypical caricature of a lapsed Christian. I was a teenager when my parents died. They’d always attended church, but they weren’t particularly zealous. Religion was more something we did on Sundays than something we felt all the time. When I was away at college, it began to play even less a part in my life. I’m not sure why really. It just happened. Maybe it was the influence of being away from home with other teens who didn’t practice their faith, if they even had one.
“Then my parents died.” He paused. “I could say I reacted out of pain, angry at God for having two good people taken from this Earth, but that wouldn’t be truthful. Honestly, I’m sort of embarrassed to admit it, but religion wasn’t a big enough part of my life by then for me to even think about blaming God for taking my family. I was angry, but at the people who shot them and the people who wouldn’t testify against the killers.”
He shifted uncomfortably and stepped off the chair so he could pace. “Later, the army chaplain tried to encourage me to strive for inner peace to help me during battle and downtime. I was still too pumped full of anger and even hatred.”
“What changed?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t change so much as weaken. I got older, learned to temper my emotions, not get so carried away by my own importance in the universe.”
He intended the last to lighten the mood and it succeeded. Callie smiled at him.
“You are important to God.”
“You sound so sure of that.” That certainty left him sad. It must be comforting to have such faith. If only he were capable.
“I am. Now. I wasn’t always.”
Callie’s words knocked Jackson out of his sullen funk. Faith seemed such an integral part of her. It was hard to imagine a Callie not confident in it. “Seriously? Tell.”
“Not now. It’s a long story and not really what I want to be thinking of on Christmas Eve.”
“Okay. I’ll accept that. But I do want to hear it sometime. If someone as faith filled as you wasn’t always that way, maybe there’s hope for the rest of us.”
“There’s always hope, Jackson. That’s the whole point of the Savior being born on Christmas Day.” She reached up and laid a hand to his cheek, as if seeking the closeness that touch brought. “Thank you for thinking of this, for going out of your way to make me happy. All of this, all that you’ve done, it’s so far above and beyond. I can’t even express my thanks sufficiently. So I’ll say this—I’ll pray for you.”
Jackson was truly humbled by her words.
“You’re an amazing person, Callie Martin.” If only he had the right to say the rest of his thoughts aloud. That in his deepest heart he wished she wasn’t in witness protection and that they had met under different circumstances. Because if he could, if they had a chance, he might find himself starting to believe in that hope of hers.
* * *
Moonlight glistened on a fresh coat of snow as Jackson and Callie strolled up the path to the tiny country church. Organ music floated on the air and light from the church spilled through stained glass windows, creating a multicolored patchwork on the pristine snow banks. The church was truly a beacon in the cold night, a light for the lost.
At least that’s how Jackson felt as he rested his hand on the small of Callie’s back and guided her through the doorway.
How many years had it been since he’d last stepped foot into a sacred space? They entered the foyer, and as the gentle music and a sense of peace encircled him, welcoming him home, he knew it had been too long.
Jackson chose a pew in the back, in the shadows so as not to attract attention or recognition. They sat side by side in quiet harmony, listening as the readings recounted the Christmas story. Candlelight and Christmas hymns wove a peaceful cocoon. There was no tension, no fear—just joy for the good news of the Savior’s birth.
Callie’s voice rose with the congregation as they sang the final hymn of joy. Then, in silent accord, the two of them waited for the bulk of the crowd to leave before making their way outside.
Snow was falling again, drifting gracefully around them as they walked back to the car. Callie smiled and spun slowly around in it. “Christmas snow. It’s perfect.” She leaned into him to express her thanks. “How ironic that I’m running for my life, because I’ve never felt so peaceful on Christmas.” She kissed her fingertips and brushed them against his cheek. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“I should be thanking you for inspiring me to go.” Jackson’s voice went husky with a multitude of emotions. “It was...special.”
They stood for a long moment in the silent night. He rested his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer, then reached to brush a snowflake from her hair. His fingers lingered, stroking her hair. “Ah, Callie girl.” He leaned down until their lips were almost touching, until he could look deeply into her eyes. His finger traced along the side of her cheek. Church bells chimed as he leaned closer, brushing his lips across hers. “Merry Christmas, Callie.”
Emotions ran deep as they huddled together in the cold air. Did she feel this connection between them? Was she as perplexed by it as he was? He thought she felt it, too. A part of him longed to ask, but it was a futile question. Why torture them both with acknowledgment of something that could never be? Better to simply enjoy the unexpected blessing of this short time out of time.
“I enjoyed your singing,” he said, attempting to
recover his balance. “Your voice is made for church music.”
“Thanks. This is the first time I’ve sung since...well, since that night. I’ve missed it. Besides, it’s hard to go wrong with hymns.”
“You only say that because you haven’t heard me sing,” Jackson retorted.
“Oh, come on. You can’t be that bad.”
“My younger brother once threatened to report me to Santa if I sang. He said my singing put me on the naughty list.”
Callie laughed, but quickly they both fell silent, realizing he’d spoken of his family. He gave her credit for not pushing more.
They walked the rest of the distance to the car in silence. Jackson held the door for her.
When she was settled, he leaned down into the open doorway. “Cal, you’re right I did this for you, but it was a blessing for me, as well. I haven’t been to Christmas services since my parents died. I’m glad we went and that I had you to share it with.”
* * *
Not surprisingly, sleep didn’t come easily. Jackson tossed and turned for an hour before resigning himself to another sleepless night. He rose and went out to the living room. The air was cold, so he stirred up the embers and added logs to the fire.
For safety’s sake, he’d drawn the heavy drapes across the glass wall, but now he pulled them back enough that he could stare out at the expanse of snow and frozen lake. Sometimes he felt as though his entire being was as frozen as the landscape. He’d dealt with grief by closing himself off. Ice was numbing, and it was easier to deal when you felt nothing. He’d become so good at it, he hadn’t even been aware anymore.
Until Callie.
Her warmth was thawing his heart. It hurt.
Where once there had been nothing, now he felt the stirrings of feelings. Church had dredged up so many memories.
