Bodyguard for Christmas

by Carol J. Post

  “No, I’m supposed to protect Liam and, in the process, also protect you. Right now, there may be a threat out there. I’d suggest you let me go investigate.”

  His jaw was still tight, but he dropped his hand and gave her a sharp nod.

  She opened the door enough to slip through. “Lock this behind me. Don’t open it unless I give you an all clear.”

  After a glance around, she stepped onto the back deck and drew her weapon. Dusk had passed and full night was fast approaching. Brutus was on the side of the house, to her right, still barking.

  She crept that direction, dried leaves crunching beneath her feet. A chilly breeze cut right through her, and a shiver shook her shoulders. The light jacket she always wore hid her holster from view but offered little protection against the winter cold. She should have grabbed her coat.

  When she rounded the corner, Brutus stood with his back to her, facing the front yard. He’d stopped barking, but deep growls rumbled in his chest, and his body rippled with tension.

  A rustle sounded a few yards to the side of them, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Every sense shot to full alert with the impending threat of an ambush.

  She wasn’t in Afghanistan anymore. But she didn’t try to shake off the sensation. That state of being constantly on guard, trying to anticipate potential threats before they could become imminent, made her good at what she did.

  She clicked on the flashlight and directed its beam into the woods. There was no sign of movement. Had she just heard the wind? Or was someone out there?

  After stepping through the gate, she closed it behind her, then approached the tree line. Except for the rustle of leaves in the breeze and Brutus’s low-pitched growls, the night was quiet.

  She swept the beam back and forth, studying the ground in front of her. Light reflected against underbrush brown and dried after a couple of winter freezes.

  Her hand stilled. At the edge of the woods, decaying growth was pressed down and lying against the ground. Someone had recently come through there.

  Whoever it had been was likely long gone. He’d apparently come out of the woods, then run across the front yard, since that was the direction Brutus was looking when she’d first come out.

  After making a final rotation with the flashlight, she walked back to the house. The key Colton had given her when they’d arrived was in her pocket. Instead of using it, she rapped on the door. “Let me in.”

  It swung inward moments later. As soon as she was safely inside, she spun on him. “I told you not to unlock the door unless I gave you an all clear.”

  “You did.”

  “No, I said ‘let me in.’ There’s a difference. What if someone was holding a gun to my head?”

  His lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay, I get it.”

  “In that case, you’d take Liam, run out a different way and pray to your God that no one sees you.”

  He sank into his chair, the weight of her words reflected on his face. “Did you see anything?”

  “Someone came out of the woods and left through the front yard.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You saw him?”

  “No. The underbrush was pressed down. When I got to Brutus, he was staring into the front yard, growling.”

  She cast a glance at Liam, who was sitting at the table, munching on a rangoon, oblivious to the tension of the adults in the room.

  Colton nodded. “It’s possible it was nothing, some teenagers trying to make their way home by dark, not realizing this place is now occupied.” He frowned, wrapping a protective arm around his son’s shoulders. “Or maybe someone was checking to see how secure we are.”

  She took her seat opposite him, and he continued.

  “We need to keep our guard up.”

  “No problem.”

  Her guard was always up. Night or day. Sleeping or awake.

  Three years ago, she’d left behind the dangers of Afghanistan. But she’d swapped them for other threats, not as constant, but just as real.

  If there was one thing Colton would never have to worry about, it was her state of readiness.

  THREE

  A single lamp burned in the living room, its glow not quite reaching the far corners of the space. The fire that had blazed in the fireplace earlier that evening had long since turned to ash.

  Colton sat in the overstuffed chair, silent and alone. How many hours had Mandy occupied this exact spot, curled up in an afghan, an open book in her lap? This had been her favorite place to read.

  Now he’d taken over her spot. Except his reading wasn’t for pleasure. A bulging expandable folder sat on the end table next to him, and a bound document occupied his lap. It was the deposition of a store clerk held up at gunpoint.

  He flipped the last page, then closed the plastic binder. When he’d slid it back into the expandable folder, he removed the next item for review.

  Tomorrow was Friday, the end of his first week back at the Cherokee County district attorney’s office. After almost losing his son, nothing could have kept him in Atlanta. But he’d been blessed that someone was leaving his old office and he’d been able to step immediately into a job. After his extended leave of absence, his savings account was reaching dangerously low levels.

  He opened the next piece of discovery, then let his gaze drift to the front wall. Curtains covered all the lower windows, but beyond the edge of the hemlock outside, stars were visible through some of the high trapezoid-shaped windows.

  Liam had been in bed for some time. So had Jasmine. Since it was nearing midnight, that was where he should be. Eventually he’d head there—when he was beyond exhaustion and the blessed oblivion of sleep was within reach.

  God is in control. It was a fact he’d known since age fifteen. But for the past six months, he’d had to recite those four words again and again. Even more in the past week. Unfortunately, all the reminders didn’t seem to penetrate those inner spaces where peace resided. His world had fallen apart, and he hadn’t been able to regain his footing.

  With a sigh, he lowered his eyes to the document in his lap. Sometime later, he stuffed the pages he’d been reading into the folder and rose from the chair. He couldn’t say he’d reached the point of exhaustion, but if he stayed up much later, he’d be worthless tomorrow.

  When he turned off the light, a faint glow shone from the partially open door off the side of the kitchen. Burning a night-light was the only way he could get Liam to sleep. If it bothered Jasmine, she hadn’t mentioned it.

  He padded silently in that direction, then paused at the open door. Liam lay in the small bed at the far side of the room, eyes closed and thumb in his mouth. A thin curtain of wispy blond hair had fallen over one side of his face. His mouth moved in a series of sucking motions, then again grew still.

  Colton drew in a shaky breath. Love swelled inside him, mingled with a sadness that pierced his heart. He was trying his hardest to be both mother and father. But as he’d watched his little boy retreat further into himself, he’d known it wasn’t enough.

  He started to turn away, then hesitated. He’d wanted to keep Liam with him during the night, but Jasmine wouldn’t hear of it. She’d said she wouldn’t risk someone again tranquilizing the dog, then slipping in to whisk Liam away while she slept in another room. She was the security expert, so he’d given in, even though he didn’t like it. Having his son sleeping on the opposite side of the house upset every protective instinct he possessed.

  But opposite side of the house wasn’t as bad as it sounded. The two bedroom doors were less than twenty feet apart, Liam’s off the side of the kitchen, his off the opposite side of the living room. The house was also equipped with a security system now. According to Jasmine, Tri State had finished the installation at three that afternoon.

  Poking his head into the room, he sought out the other bed, against the wal
l to his right. Jasmine was curled on her side, back toward the wall, blanket tucked under her chin. Instead of resting in its usual soft layers, her short hair jutted outward in disarray, as if she’d done some tossing and turning.

  One hand lay near her face. But it wasn’t relaxed and open. Instead, her fingers were curled into a fist. Even in sleep, she projected a tense readiness. Not good for her, but great for his son. And a huge comfort for him. Allowing Jasmine to be responsible for his son’s safety had been a good choice.

  He backed away and crept silently through the kitchen. It wouldn’t do to have Jasmine awaken to find him staring at her. She’d probably think he was some kind of a creep. But it wasn’t like that. He didn’t think of her as anything more than his and Liam’s bodyguard.

  And he never would. The complete opposite of Mandy, she was so not his type. Where Mandy was soft and relaxed, Jasmine was hard and rigid. The warmth and openness that had always drawn him to Mandy seemed to be lacking in Jasmine. He’d never witnessed anything but cool professionalism. As far as openness, something told him she guarded her personal details like the Secret Service guarded the president.

  When he stepped into his room, he left the door open. Ten minutes later, he was lying in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling. Another thirty minutes passed before sleep crept close enough to brush against consciousness. His thoughts slowed, growing more and more random.

  A terror-filled wail split the silence. He stumbled from bed, heart in his throat. It took almost landing on his face to realize one foot was still tangled in the sheets. No matter how many times it happened, he’d never get used to Liam’s middle-of-the-night screams. He’d hoped the intensity and frequency would lessen with time, but so far, they hadn’t.

  A second shriek set his teeth on edge. Then sobs followed, wails of sorrow rather than fear. He burst into Liam’s room, flipping the switch as he passed. Stark white light obliterated every shadow.

  He skidded to a stop. Liam’s bed was empty. Jasmine had already scooped him up and sat in the wooden rocking chair. She held him tightly, his head resting against her chest. Her face was tilted downward as she whispered soothing words into his hair.

  She glanced up, meeting Colton’s gaze. Her eyes seemed to hold a lingering wildness of their own. Before he could analyze what he was seeing, she returned her attention to the sobbing boy in her lap.

  Liam took a shuddering breath, then lifted one arm to partially circle her waist.

  Colton clenched his fists. Jasmine shouldn’t be the one comforting him. Mandy should. The boy needed his mother.

  An inner voice told him he was being irrational. On some level he agreed. But he was powerless against the emotions bombarding him.

  “I’ll take him.” His tone was stiff and cold.

  Jasmine looked up again, her brows drawn together. When she tried to move Liam, his hand tightened around the fabric of her silk pajamas.

  Colton reached for him. “Come here, buddy. Daddy’s here.”

  Liam finally released his hold. When Colton took him, Liam’s arms went around his neck. He eased himself down onto Jasmine’s bed, since she was still occupying the rocking chair. Already, guilt was pricking him.

  “I appreciate what you did for him.” It probably hadn’t been easy. Jasmine didn’t seem like the gentle, motherly type.

  “I didn’t mind.”

  He owed her an apology, as well as an explanation. Sorry I snapped at you. I was angry that you were here instead of my dead wife.

  Okay, maybe not.

  “I’m sorry he woke you up.” That was an apology. Sort of.

  “I was already awake.”

  He wasn’t surprised. When he’d checked on them, she hadn’t looked to be in a sound sleep. At least not a relaxed one.

  She looked away. “Nightmares are the pits, especially for kids.”

  Her words seemed to be more than an opinion. Her tone held a been there, done that sentiment.

  He nodded. “They’re pretty regular, have been ever since... For the past six months.”

  “Since your wife’s death.”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head. “It was sudden. Brain aneurysm. We had no time to prepare.” Not that it would have done any good. No amount of preparation would lessen the blow of saying goodbye to one’s soul mate.

  “I’m sorry.” Her eyes held the same sympathy he’d seen when they’d first arrived at the Murphy house. Not just sympathy. Empathy. Like she’d walked in his shoes. Or some that fit in a far too similar way.

  “Thanks.” He forced a smile, but only one side of his mouth cooperated. “I’ve tried to keep things as normal for Liam as possible.” Normalcy when one’s entire world had shifted wasn’t easy to accomplish.

  Actually, normal was gone. Trying to recapture the life they used to have was pointless. Instead, he was settling in to a new life, defining a new normal, while still holding on to the few constants. Though it was often the last thing he felt like doing, he’d continued with church, trips to the park and other activities Liam enjoyed, even during their stay in Montana.

  Tomorrow would be the first Friday in December, the night of the Murphy Christmas Art Walk. The event had been one of his and Mandy’s traditions and what kicked off the decorating they’d done at the Murphy house, even when they’d lived in Atlanta.

  “Tomorrow night...” He started the thought aloud before he could change his mind. He wasn’t kidding himself. Holidays were going to be pure torture. Getting through them would require every ounce of strength he possessed. “I’m taking Liam to the Christmas Art Walk. We’ll need you to come along.”

  No way was he taking his son out without Jasmine’s protection. Since arriving in Murphy, he’d felt safe, except for the incident two nights ago when Brutus had caught someone prowling around. Since nothing had happened since, it was probably just kids passing through.

  Jasmine shrugged. “Sure. What’s the Christmas Art Walk?”

  “We stroll around downtown Murphy, where they have art, food, live music and, of course, the lighting of the tree in the square. We’ll go out for supper first, my treat.”

  She gave a sharp nod. “Will do.”

  He rose and moved to his son’s bed. As he and Jasmine had talked, Liam’s arms had slowly slid from around his neck. He positioned the boy in his bed and tucked the stuffed rabbit into the crook of one elbow. Liam’s other thumb slipped into his mouth.

  Colton straightened and tilted his head toward his son. “His nightmares, they usually only happen once in any given night.”

  “No problem, even if it’s more.”

  He left the room and headed toward his own. Tomorrow night, he’d be tackling the first of their Christmas traditions.

  Same time, same event, same location. There’d even be three of them, like before. But instead of Mandy, Jasmine would be with them.

  It just wasn’t right.

  But they weren’t a family unit, not the three of them. They were a father and son with their bodyguard. He wasn’t even trying to pretend there was anything more.

  It still somehow felt all wrong.

  * * *

  Jasmine stood in Hiwassee Valley rec center’s playground, straight-legged jeans disappearing into the tops of her boots and her jacket hiding both her weapon and her Kevlar vest. Liam sat in one of the swings, fists clutching the chains as she pushed him. He was dressed the same as she was, minus the vest and in tennis shoes instead of boots. Heavier coats waited for them in the car. When the sun went down, they’d need them. Right now, the temperature was pleasant.

  Colton had called an hour ago with a change of plans. They were still doing supper and the Christmas Art Walk, but he wouldn’t make it home first. So he’d asked her to meet him at five at the Cherokee County Courthouse downtown. Since she was running early, the park offered a fun detour. Maybe it would not only distract Lia
m for a short time but also wear him out enough to sleep well tonight.

  “Would you like to try out the slide?” Though Liam didn’t respond, she brought him to a slow stop and lifted him from the swing.

  Colton had apologized for him disturbing her sleep. In actuality, he hadn’t. She’d awoken from a nightmare herself shortly before he’d started screaming. When she’d scooped him up, she’d still been shaking from her own private terrors.

  Then something unexpected had happened. As she’d held and soothed him, an odd sense of comfort had woven through her, shattering the images flashing in her mind and calming her spinning thoughts. The whole experience had caught her off guard. She didn’t seek comfort from anyone. She dealt with everything on her own.

  As a child, she’d had no choice. Often, she’d been left alone while her mother partied through the night. Or her mother left her with random people for days on end. Most didn’t want to be bothered. Some did, men who tried to do things she didn’t understand but somehow sensed were wrong.

  As an adult, keeping herself closed off had been a hard habit to break. She’d even been tight-lipped with the counselors the army had assigned to help her process the horrors she’d seen and adjust to civilian life.

  She led Liam to one of the slides, searching the perimeter as she’d been doing since they arrived fifteen minutes ago. Nothing raised any red flags. Several moms and a couple of dads stood or sat on benches. Jasmine had already matched the adults to their charges.

  She was just finishing her three-hundred-sixty-degree observation when something over her left shoulder snagged her gaze. A man stood under the pavilion outside the fence, leaning against one of the posts, watching the activity on the playground. Was he one of those creeps who liked to hang out where young children played? Or was he interested in one child in particular?

  Liam climbed the stairs, and she moved around to the base of the slide, keeping the man in her peripheral vision. He continued to watch. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up.