Protection

by Linda Rettstatt

Shannon carefully removed the covers from the furniture, trying not to shake up too much dust. She ran her fingers along the brocade fabric of the sofa. It was worn and a little faded, but looked sturdy and comfy. Probably expensive in its day. She sat and was surprised by the life still in the cushions. Above, the sound of feet, male voices and hammering.

  She turned on the TV and, sure enough, the cable was still connected. She was flipping through channels when Jake came in. He was soaking wet and his tee shirt clung to him, revealing a solid chest and well-defined abs. She forced her eyes away. The last thing she wanted was to be drawn to him, to any man, right now.

  “Do you think there are any towels in the bathroom?” he asked.

  “I’ll check.” She opened the cabinet beneath the sink to find a neatly folded stack of towels and grabbed two.

  Jake stood at the kitchen sink wringing water from his tee shirt. Shannon gasped at the sight of him, then cleared her throat, hoping he hadn’t heard. “Here you go. They’re old and a bit scratchy, but they look clean.”

  “Thanks.” He rubbed a towel over his hair vigorously, then swiped his hair back with his fingers. “I hope this dries out soon.” He draped the tee shirt over the sink. Then he looked down at his bare chest. “Sorry.”

  “Maybe we could pull up some of the carpet?”

  He shook his head. “Not a good idea without protective masks. No telling what we’d be breathing in. And there’s Bailey to consider.”

  “How long do you think this storm will last?”

  “Could blow through in a few minutes. Hard to tell. As soon as there’s a break, we’ll head back to the cabin. At least the TV is working.”

  As if on cue, thunder boomed, lightning flashed—and the TV and lights went off.

  Shannon jumped at the crash of thunder and backed into him. Bailey began to cry. Shannon picked her up from the carrier and held her close.

  Jake dragged the rocking chair away from the window. “Here, sit down.”

  “She doesn’t like storms, especially thunder.” Shannon held the baby close, rocking and whispering in a soothing tone.

  The storm continued to rage outside as the sky darkened. “We might be here a while.” He pulled a chair away from the small dining table and sat.

  “The sofa’s more comfortable,” Shannon said.

  “My jeans are still damp. I don’t want to get it wet. This is good.”

  The silence between them was interrupted only by the occasional clap of thunder.

  “Tell me about Phoenix,” Shannon said, her gaze focused on Bailey.

  “Phoenix?”

  She looked up at Jake. “You said you came here from Phoenix. I’ve never been to the Southwest. What’s it like?”

  “Hot. But it’s a dry heat. Palm trees. Sand. Lots of retirees.”

  “Plenty of sunshine?”

  “Uh…yeah.” He went to the kitchen and pulled on his still-damp shirt. “You said you were from Pennsylvania, but you told the waitress you came from the Midwest.”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Pennsylvania’s sort of the Midwest, isn’t it? That always confuses me.”

  “I think the Midwest begins with Ohio.”

  Drawing upon stories her mother told of her own childhood, she launched into her lie. “Uniontown is a small town in the southwestern corner of Pennsylvania, near the mountains. My mother’s parents had a farm there.” All true, so far.

  “College?”

  “Yes. Then I worked in a bank. That’s where I met Bailey’s father.” She glanced at her watch, remembering she was to call her mother and Brooke at the restaurant in Jefferson City in an hour. “I think the rain’s letting up a little. Should we make a run for it?”

  Jake looked to the window. “Let me go first and see if Abe has an umbrella I can borrow to keep the baby dry.”

  “Good thinking.” Shannon placed Bailey back into the carrier. Bailey wasn’t ready to be put down and fussed.

  Jake returned with a large umbrella. “Want me to carry her? Those steps are steep and you have the diaper bag.”

  Once they were in the safety of the truck, Jake handed the umbrella back to Abe and climbed in. “This is going to set us back a bit on the roof. Let’s hope it clears by morning.” He started the truck and turned at the end of the driveway, heading for home.

  Water lay in pools on the roads and Jake expertly maneuvered them through. By the time they reached the cabin, the rain had slowed to a fine drizzle. The temperatures had dropped and Shannon shivered while she waited for him to unlock the door.

  “I think I’ll build a fire, take the chill out of here.” Jake began to stack kindling and split logs in the fireplace.

  Shannon picked up the phone. “Do you mind if I make a phone call?”

  “Not at all. Go ahead.”

  She carried the phone up the stairs and punched in the phone number of the restaurant. When the hostess answered, Shannon said, “My mother, Doris Carlson, is dining there this evening. It’s very important that I reach her and she doesn’t have a cell phone. Would you be able to check? She’s with Brooke Jamison.”

  “I’ll check. Please hold.”

  A moment later, Brooke came on the phone. “Your mom just went to the ladies room. What’s going on?”

  Brooke already knew about Bailey’s father and about Corinne Hastings’ offer to adopt—or buy—the baby. “I had to get out of town. That woman’s insane. She actually believes that adopting a baby will put her in better standing with voters in the coming election. She’s hell bent on taking Amanda…er…Bailey from me. For the record, I’m using the name Shannon Chase and the baby is now Bailey. I can’t risk Corinne pulling some stunt to try to prove I’m not fit as a mother and then have Mark swoop in to claim the baby as his.”

  “You’re a wonderful mother. Where are you?”

  “I’m in Washington State. A little town called Snoqualmie. Look, don’t tell my mother that bit of info. It’s better if she doesn’t know too many facts.”

  “Okay. Here she comes. Talk to you again soon.”

  “Heather, oh honey, where are you?” Concern tightened her mother’s voice.

  She couldn’t explain her new identity. Being called Heather felt foreign to her now. “I’m okay, Mom. So is Bai…the baby. We’re in the Northwest. Mom, I want you to stay with Brooke for a while. She told me some men came to the house looking for me.”

  “They said they were from the bank, but I didn’t buy that for a minute.”

  “Good. Now listen. Amanda’s father has people looking for me. And they’ll try to get you to tell them where I am. That’s why I’m not being specific. You can honestly say you don’t know. I’ll communicate through email with Brooke and we’ll arrange things like this for phone calls now and then. I just wanted you to know I’m safe. And…” Her throat tightened and she swallowed. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart. Give Amanda a kiss from her Grandma.”

  Shannon ended the call and set the phone down beside her on the bed. She’d held in her emotions for the past week and, now, having heard her mother’s voice, the dam broke. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

  She didn’t hear Jake, but he was suddenly kneeling in front of her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  Needing to draw strength from someone, she slid forward and into his arms, holding on for dear life.

  They knelt together on the floor, Jake’s arms around her, his voice soothing, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

  She couldn’t find words or her voice, just continued to cling to him and cry, letting out the fear, anger, and grief she’d been holding.

  When she pulled away, she noticed the large, wet spot on his tee shirt. “I’m sorry. That was a clean shirt, wasn’t it?”

  He stared into her eyes. “I have lots of shirts. Want to talk about whatever happened?”

  She reached to the nightstand and grabbed a wad of tissues, blotting her face and then blowing her nose. “I ta
lked to my Mom. I…I miss her, that’s all.”

  Then she looked down at the phone. He would know she was lying when he got the bill. The call wasn’t placed to Uniontown, Pennsylvania. It would show a call to Jefferson City, Missouri. In the Midwest.

  “I know what you need.”

  “You do?”

  He stood and offered her a hand. “Come with me.”

  She followed him from the bedroom, still holding his hand until they reached the stairs. Then she walked behind him through to the kitchen.

  Jake reached into the freezer and produced a half-gallon of ice cream. Next he took a bottle of chocolate syrup and other toppings from the fridge. “You need a sundae.”

  She sniffled. “Ice cream solves all problems.”

  “Can’t hurt.” He grabbed bowls from the cabinet and spoons from a drawer next to the sink. After scooping generous portions of French vanilla ice cream into the bowls, he motioned to the toppings. “Everything you need. Even crushed nuts.” His face reddened as he looked up with a grin. “Let’s not go there again.”

  She laughed and it felt good. Here, in this moment, with this man she barely knew, making ice cream sundaes, she was safe.

  *

  “I’m telling you, he’s not here. The lead was a dead end.” The biker sat in the last booth in the bar, a cell phone to his ear.

  “That’s not possible. My guy on the inside was sure Avery was relocated to that town. It’s not that big. How hard could it be to find him?” Lou Crowley demanded.

  “I checked out the guy. He looks nothing like this Father Avery and he’s got a wife and baby. I’m telling you, it’s not him.”

  “Shit. Don’t leave that town until I get back to you. Where’re you staying?”

  “Some no-name motel—the Evergreen Motor Lodge—outside of town. How long do I have to hang here? This is one godforsaken place. No action, if you know what I mean.”

  “You’ll hang there as long as I need you to. Did you show that picture around?”

  “I did. No one recognized him. They told me to check at the local Catholic church. The priest there says he never heard of a Father Avery and doesn’t know this guy. Either he’s not here or he has this whole town snowed.”

  “I’ll talk with my source and then get back to you.”

  “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

  “Go fishing. Make nice with the locals. Somebody is bound to eventually recognize Avery’s photo. What have you been telling them about your reason for looking for him?”

  “I said he’s my long lost brother and I’m tryin’ to find him to make amends. They’re all real sympathetic to that story and say they hope I find him.” He laughed. “Dumbasses.”

  “Sit tight. I’ll call you tomorrow or the next day, once I talk to my man on the inside.”

  The biker snorted as he ended the call. “My man on the inside,” he mimicked. “Who does Crowley think he is, Chief of the freakin’ FBI?”

  He’d trailed the guy in his truck today. But when the guy picked up his wife and kid for lunch and then rushed back to that roofing job he was doing, he figured it was a bust. Wrong man. If this Avery was still a priest, he wouldn’t have a wife and kid. Would he?

  Chapter Eleven

  They spent the better part of an hour at Angie’s mother’s house while Shannon toured the premises and asked Dawn Kohler a thousand questions about her experience with children. Jake watched with some amusement as Dawn patiently answered each one. She had raised five kids and was the grandmother of seven. As far as he was concerned, that pretty much qualified her to babysit Bailey for a day.

  “Okay, so you have Jake’s cell number in case you need to reach me?” Shannon asked. “I packed two changes of clothing, more than enough diapers for the day, formula and two bottles, and her stuffed kitty that she likes.” She dug deep into the diaper bag. “And there’s a wind-up ballerina in here that fascinates her.”

  Dawn nodded. “Thank you. Seems you thought of everything. Do you think I could hold her for a minute while you’re here?”

  “Oh, of course.” Shannon handed the baby over to the older woman.

  Bailey stared up at Dawn’s face in wonder, then reached for her long braid that hung over one shoulder. “You sure are a sweet baby,” Dawn said. “I think we’ll get along fine.” She looked up at Shannon. “That is, if you’re comfortable with me caring for her.”

  “Yes, I…um….” She glanced from Jake to Dawn. “You’d call me if anyone came here and wanted to see her?”

  Dawn lifted her eyebrows. “Is that likely to happen?”

  “Probably not. It’s just…. I’m not sure Bailey’s father won’t try to find us. I left because it was a bad situation.”

  “No one gets this baby back from me except you. You have nothing to worry about,” Dawn assured her.

  “Satisfied?” Jake asked.

  “I suppose so. I haven’t been apart from her since she was born.” Shannon bit on her lower lip.

  Jake’s gaze fixed on her mouth. He had the urge to lick his own lips. Instead he pressed them tightly together.

  “I understand,” Dawn said. “My daughters had a terrible time when they had to return to work and leave their little ones for the first time.”

  “I feel foolish.”

  “Not at all.” Dawn patted her hand. “I’d be worried if it was too easy for you to hand her over.”

  “You have a beautiful home and you seem like a very nice woman. I’d appreciate it if you babysit Bailey while we’re working on the apartment. Just for one or two days. How much do you charge?”

  The woman gave a dismissive wave. “I’m already taking care of three of my grandkids. One more won’t be any trouble. I’ll be happy to help.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Angie told me you’re new to town. Consider it part of the Snoqualmie Welcome Wagon. Two days of free babysitting. More if you need it. That’s what neighbors do.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be back to pick her up at five or sooner.” Shannon looked at Jake for confirmation. He nodded.

  She snuggled the baby close, kissing her on the cheeks and saying goodbye before handing her back to Dawn.

  Jake paused a moment once they were in the truck, then asked, “Are you all right?”

  Shannon stared out the window, but nodded.

  “No, you’re not.”

  She sniffled. “I will be. Let’s get to work.”

  He assigned her the task of covering the meager bedroom furnishings with a paint cloth while he stirred the paint. “We need to do the ceiling first so we don’t drip on the walls. Why don’t I do that while you work in the bathroom?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Jake climbed the ladder and set his bucket of paint on the fold-out shelf. Music blared from the living room. Oldies—not what he would have expected from Shannon. At thirty, even his definition of oldies fell somewhere in the sixties. She had to be a few years younger, unless this was music she listened to growing up, the way he had.

  He’d finished half of the bedroom ceiling and was grooving to Smokey Robinson when a shriek and a loud “Dammit” sounded from the bathroom. He hustled down the ladder and across the hall.

  Shannon stood with one foot on the lid of the toilet seat and the other buried above her ankle in gooey white latex paint. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

  Jake stood in the doorway, unable to resist a laugh.

  “This is not funny. If I make one move, I’ll have paint all over the floor. Could you give me a hand here?”

  He picked up the empty plastic waste basket from under the sink and set it down beside the paint. “Okay, I’m going to lift you up. Very carefully pull your foot up, toes pointed down, and step into the waste basket.”

  “My foot’s too big.”

  “Not if it fits in the paint bucket.”

  “Okay.” She sounded skeptical.

  He placed his hands under her arms and lifted, surprised by the lightness of h
er body. “Raise your foot.”

  She did as directed and stepped down into the waste basket. But her foot wobbled and rolled. She lost all footing, falling into him, knocking him off balance. Jake tumbled backward trying to avoid hitting the shower and at the same time trying to cushion her fall. That landed him flat on his back with her spread eagle atop him.

  He emitted a soft ‘oof’ as the wind was knocked out of him. She did the same. They lay there for a moment, each trying to catch a breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I think so. Are you?”

  He was fine, but having her body plastered to his with nothing more between them than a scrap of cotton she called a tank top and a skimpy pair of shorts and his well-worn jeans and tee shirt was becoming painful. Especially because her thigh had wedged against his crotch and her effort to extricate herself was causing major chaos in his jeans. He hoped she interpreted his heavy breathing as a result of their fall.

  “Stop moving for a minute,” he ordered. “Use your hands to lift up so I can slide out from beneath you.”

  She pressed her palms on either side of him and pushed up. As she did, the neckline of the tank top dropped down, giving him full view of her breasts. He was no expert, but pretty sure hers were nearly perfect. He gulped.

  In her attempts to push herself upright and slide away from him, her knee pressed into his already sensitive privates. “Ow.”

  “What? Oh, not again. I’m so sorry.” She finally managed to raise her body from his and land in a crouch near his feet. “I’m really sorry.”

  He didn’t dare look down to see if his condition was obvious to her. He sat upright. Too fast. His forehead connected with hers as she leaned a bit forward to rise.

  “Ouch,” she cried.

  He lay back down. “I knew I should have had Rico and Don help me with this, too.”

  She rubbed her forehead, grinning. “Would you rather have wiped out with Rico on top of you?”

  “Uh….” He wasn’t sure if she expected an answer to that question. Clearly, he would not prefer Rico. “Look, just remain still. I’m going to sit up, slide back, and get on my feet. Then it’ll be your turn.”

  She remained crouched with her back to the wall until he was standing and offered her a hand. “I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Her gaze swept over his crotch and back to his face. The blush that colored her cheeks was not lost on him.