Christmas in Hiding

by Cate Nolan

  As he sat there in the dark stillness, words flooded his mind, years’ worth of trapped emotions, doubts, fears. They poured forth in an open, honest prayer. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he bared his soul to the One who’d made him, the One who loved him above all. By the time his thoughts and prayers began to slow, Jackson felt cleansed, as if a huge burden had lifted, and a calm descended. A new sense of purpose filled his being. And the nugget of an idea stirred in his soul.

  What if he didn’t have to leave Callie?

  What if God had brought them together to give new direction to his life?

  “Jackson, what time is it?”

  Time for a change. The words filled his heart and put goose bumps on his arms. But it was not time to say anything to her yet. He had to get her out of this mess first. Please Lord, guide me. Help me to keep Callie safe.

  Jackson glanced at his phone. “Almost ten.”

  Callie yawned and stretched. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee. Any idea what’s up with the storm?”

  Jackson dug in his duffel bag and pulled out a thermos. “Your wish is my command.”

  Callie’s jaw dropped. “Is there anything you didn’t think of?”

  Yes. How hard it was going to be trapped in such tight quarters with you. “I have military and marshal training, remember? Plus I was a Boy Scout. I’ve learned to be prepared for anything.”

  “Don’t care about the anything. This—” she sipped her coffee “—this is perfect.” She settled back into the sleeping bag while Jackson checked the weather radar on his phone. “No one back in Texas would ever believe this if I described it.”

  Jackson grinned absentmindedly as he scanned the app. “Looks like the snow has stopped. Too bad I don’t have an app to check the status of our pursuers. Let me poke my head out and see how it looks.”

  Once Jackson declared it safe to travel, Callie climbed out of the pit and into a snow globe world. She blinked at the sudden brightness. “I’ve never seen so much snow.”

  “Welcome to the Midwest in winter. It’s not going to be easy walking.”

  “What, no snowshoes in your Mary Poppins bag?”

  “I wish.”

  “Jackson,” Callie whispered after they’d trudged along for a while. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we ought to stop trying to get away and try to capture them instead.”

  Jackson looked at her as if she were crazy. “Do you have—”

  She held up her hand to cut him off. “Hear me out. We need information. We can’t just keep running forever. Apparently the DEA can’t find anything, and WITSEC seems to think that just having us on the run is a solution. Maybe it’s time we took action.”

  “Callie, my job is to protect you, not catch criminals.”

  She stopped and looked up at him. “Your job was to protect me so I could testify.” She shrugged. “There’s no longer anyone for me to testify against.” She grabbed his hands and tugged on them. “Come on. Aren’t you tired of being in the dark? Don’t you want to know what this is all about?”

  He did. But he wasn’t going to risk her life to find out. “No. There are too many of them. I’m not risking your life.” Especially not now.

  “What do you want to do? The roads are too covered with snow to take the car, so we can’t get out of here, right? But we don’t know where they are, what they’re doing, whether or not they stayed at the house.”

  “We can check that out without actually confronting them. We have to go back toward the house to get away anyway.” He grinned at her. “I think you’ll like our escape vehicle this time.”

  “Really? We have an escape vehicle? What are we using?”

  “A snow boat.”

  Callie laughed, although her teeth were chattering in the cold. “I love how you say that as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

  “It beats the choices—waiting here for them to come get us or freezing to death.”

  “Where are we going to get a snow boat from?”

  “I’ve been working on one while you napped each day. Just in case we needed a way out.”

  “That’s really cool, Jackson. Where is it?”

  “That’s the tricky part. It’s in the barn behind the house. We’ll have to work our way back there and sneak into the barn.”

  They resumed the slow trudge back through the woods. “You get credit, you know,” Jackson told her as they walked. “I kept thinking about how much you liked watching those ice boats. I decided to adapt it with skis.”

  She high-fived him.

  After an hour of plodding through deep snow banks, the house came into view. Callie sighed. “It looks so warm and cozy.” She shook off the longing. “So we have to find out if anyone is still here, right? Piece of cake.”

  Jackson laughed at her bravado. He should have known by now that she’d do whatever it took. “Or we could forget all about them and just sneak out the boat.”

  Callie thought about it. “I’d rather find out how many there are, take them out if we can. If I make some noise, someone will be sure to hear me and come check it out.”

  Jackson shook his head. “They’ll probably all come out. If we’re going to try to catch them at all, we need them separate.” He hesitated because he didn’t want to offend her. “We also need to make sure they cannot communicate with their team.”

  “Of course,” she replied, understanding exactly what he meant. “But we don’t want them to freeze to death.”

  Jackson eyed her with appreciation. “After all they’ve done to you, you can still have compassion for them?”

  “I wouldn’t be worth much as a person if I had no compassion for my fellow human beings, no matter how poor their choices.”

  “How sweet is she?”

  At the sound of the new voice, Jackson swung around and found himself in the face of a shotgun muzzle. He clenched his fists and fought down his anger. They’d been so caught up in their conversation that he’d completely forgotten that the enemy might also be emerging after the storm.

  “You could try showing her a little of that same compassion,” Jackson suggested.

  The man, dressed in a red plaid flannel shirt, gave a snort. “Not likely. Big bucks on her head.”

  Callie had been standing frozen in shock, but that statement released her. “Big bucks for me? Why? Why do they even care about me?”

  The guy turned to answer her. “I don’t know. They don’t tell—”

  Jackson whacked him over the back of the head with his duffel bag and down he went. “Still feeling compassionate?” he asked Callie.

  “Why don’t we tie him up and leave him in the snow until we lure his companion out here?”

  “Should I be nervous at how much you’re enjoying this? Nice work distracting him, though.”

  Callie laughed. “It would be if it had been intentional. But honestly, Jackson, why would anyone have money out for me? The guys I was going to testify against are dead.”

  “We can try to keep the other guy conscious and see what he knows.”

  “That’s fine by me, but I don’t expect he’ll know any more than this fellow did. Are we going to go with my plan?”

  Jackson didn’t really like it, but he couldn’t see any other way. “Wait until I get this one bound and gagged.” He dragged the man, who was now moaning lightly. Callie took off her scarf and wrapped it around his face as a gag.

  Following her example, Jackson took his own scarf and bound the man’s hands behind his back to the porch railing. “We’ll find a way to tie them up better once we can get in the house.”

  Jackson got himself hidden behind the door. Callie walked across in front of the house. She pretended to look like she was hiding, ducking between trees as she went.

  The front door flew open and the
other man ran out calling, “Caleb?”

  Whack. Jackson took him down with the shovel he’d left by the door. They dragged him back into the house and tied him up.

  While Jackson was dragging the man who was apparently named Caleb into the house, Callie grabbed supplies—helmets, goggles, sweaters, heavy gloves, anything she could find.

  Jackson told her he’d call it in to the marshals and let them decide how to handle the men. “Someone from the local sheriff’s office will be sent out to get them. But now, come, my lady. Your snow boat awaits.”

  Callie danced in delight when he opened the barn door and showed her the boat. He’d affixed ski blades to the bottom of a sailboat.

  “It really is like the ice boats we saw.”

  “Hope it works as well. The snow up here covers the ice, so I figured skis were better than ice blades. It should work like a sailboat, but with skis.”

  “Very cool.” Callie approved.

  The snow-boat ride was fairly uneventful compared to their earlier escapes, but Callie was delighted with the way they flew across the frozen lake. This was something she wanted to try again some time.

  When they reached the far shore, the roads were plowed and Jackson found someone with a car willing to drive them into town. They rented a new car and once again hit the road.

  “This is starting to get old,” Jackson commented as they drove.

  “Not if you think about what the guy named Caleb said,” Callie countered. “Neither of the two guys seemed to know why they were supposed to capture me. Jackson, did you notice they said capture—not kill? Obviously they think I know something.”

  “They probably think Rick either told you something or he gave you something to keep safe. Can you think of anything?”

  “No. I knew nothing about this part of his life.”

  SEVENTEEN

  “Jackson, I think I should go back to Texas.” Callie paced the confines of yet another hotel suite.

  “Absolutely not.”

  Realizing how harsh that sounded, he softened his voice. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see why you would want to take that risk.”

  “Obviously I have something they want.”

  “How do you know it’s in Texas?” Even as he asked, he suspected she was right.

  “Since I have nothing with me from my former life—not even my poor penguin—and they’re still after me, logic says there must be something back there.”

  Jackson bit down on his knuckle as he considered her argument. “You’re presuming that the thing they want is physical, not something you know.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know anything that’s of any use to them.”

  He was silent for a few minutes trying to figure out how to put this gently enough that she would take it seriously but not be scared into doing something foolish. “You have to be careful with that line of thinking, Cal. First, it’s sort of a catch-22. Because you know that you know nothing, you expect they do, too. But they may think you know more than you do.”

  Callie nervously fingered her scarf while she considered that angle. Finally she nodded, accepting the wisdom of his thoughts.

  Jackson lifted her hand and wrapped his around her fist. “You also have to consider the possibility that you do know something. When detectives, or marshals, for that matter, are putting together the pieces of a case, they always ask for every detail, no matter how small. You never know which detail, innocent on its own, will be the key to solving the mystery. You may hold a key you aren’t remotely aware of.”

  Callie closed her eyes. “There’s just no way to win this, is there?” She didn’t like what he was saying. It sounded far more ominous, far more likely and far more hopeless.

  “How am I supposed to figure it out, then, without telling the bad guys? How do I know what I know that matters?” She wanted to cry. “It’s just giving me a headache.”

  Jackson wrapped his arm around her and held her tight. “That’s why it’s so important to tell me everything you know about the case. Even anything you may already have told Ben.”

  “Why. Didn’t you two talk?”

  “We did. But that was well over a week ago now. Besides, sometimes details get lost. Better safe—and repetitive—than sorry.”

  “Okay. I promise to think of anything I haven’t told you. But...”

  Jackson dipped his head to look at her. “But?”

  “Will you be as honest with me?”

  She could tell by his hesitation that he didn’t want to make that promise.

  “I’ll agree...with a caveat. I’ll be as honest as I can be, Callie. But there might be things that would jeopardize the safety of others. I can’t reveal confidential information.”

  She didn’t like it but sensed it was the best she was going to get. “If you don’t think I should go home, what do you propose I do?”

  “Just stay safe. Let the marshals and the DEA investigate.”

  That was not the answer she wanted. Callie sighed. She’d give him a day or two to see if anything changed. If not, she was going anyway.

  She broke away and wandered over to the window. “Jackson, we never really talked about this. What do the officials think about Rick’s involvement?”

  “They think he was dealing.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly that Callie took a moment to process. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Callie. I know it’s hard to accept.”

  “No, it makes sense.”

  “How so?”

  “Because one of the things that has bothered me is that I never had any sense of him being under the influence of drugs. If we went out, he never even drank. He tended to be the sober, reliable, designated-driver sort. That makes more sense if he was dealing.”

  She shuddered. “It makes it a little more cold-blooded, though, doesn’t it?”

  Jackson waited for her to explain.

  “Who was he dealing to? How much did he charge? Was I really supposed to find out about this? Or did he want me left in the dark? People who know us both wondered at what he was doing, but I didn’t ask questions. That is to my eternal shame. Maybe if I had pushed, shown my displeasure...” Tears stung her eyes. “Maybe then he would be alive.”

  Jackson wrapped his arms fully around her and drew her into his embrace. “Callie, take it from someone who spent a decade beating himself up over not being there to change things. You couldn’t have. Rick was a grown man making his own choices. Did you ever tell him that you wanted a lifestyle better than the one he could give you?”

  “Of course not!” She pulled back and paced the room again. “I always told him I was happy with a simple life. I don’t need things. I never wanted to accumulate possessions. All I want is the people I care about, the people who will be my family.”

  “And did he listen?”

  She sighed heavily. “No. He was constantly planning one thing or another. He always had some new get-rich scheme. I thought I could change him. Show him a better way to live in the Lord.”

  She hung her head. “I knew I was failing at that, but I never imagined he’d turn to drugs—especially turning others on to them. That’s a disgrace.”

  Jackson came and stood beside her. “I’m really sorry he wasn’t smart enough to see the mistake he was making.”

  Callie shrugged. “The mistake was mine. Thinking he would change. Thinking he would want the same things I did.”

  Jackson rested his palm on her cheek. “The mistake he made was in not realizing he had the greatest blessing in you. He didn’t need all those other things.”

  Callie didn’t know how to handle such kindness so she leaned into his shoulder rather than looking up. “Thank you,” she murmured against his chest.

  He tipped her chin up and looked deeply into
her eyes. “I wish with all my heart that we had met under other circumstances. I wouldn’t have made that mistake.”

  Callie wanted him to kiss her. More than she wanted her next breath, more than she wanted to solve this case, she wanted him to kiss her one more time. She suspected he wanted the same thing. But she had this awful feeling that he wouldn’t.

  She couldn’t bear the thought of never feeling his lips on hers again, so she lifted on her tiptoes and softly kissed him. Just a quick touch of her lips to his, then she drew back, whispered a thank-you and pulled away.

  * * *

  Jackson stood, his back rigid, as he watched her walk away and go into the other room. It was so hard to let her go, but he had no right to call her back. No right to pull her into his arms and kiss her the way he wanted to. He had to protect her, and to do that he had to put distance between them and stop wishing for what he couldn’t ever have.

  Or maybe he could. The idea that had been nagging at him like a woodpecker on a light pole tapped on his brain again. What if he left the Marshals? What if he went into protection with Callie and began a new life? Leaving behind all the baggage of a lost decade appealed to something deep within him. And the idea of having a future with Callie made him weak as hope fluttered through his body.

  “Guide me, Lord. Show me Your way,” he whispered. This praying about things was so new, it still felt shaky, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was doing it right. But a sense of peace had invaded his being lately, even in the midst of all this chaos. That had to mean something.

  He couldn’t say anything to her yet. Wouldn’t make promises he might not be able to keep. First priority still was keeping her safe and alive. His boss had decided to keep her in WITSEC for the time being at least. The defendants might be dead, but someone was clearly still after her. They might need her, so she had to be kept safe.

  He glanced at his phone, debating calling in for a report. The date jumped out at him. December 31. New Year’s Eve.

  Perfect. A shiver of expectation ran down his arms. He might not be able to say anything, but they could end the year in style and begin the new one as he hoped to go on—together.