Her Mistletoe Protector (13 page)

“No!” Joey shouted. “I don’t like the smell! Make it go away!”

She rushed to Joey’s side, wrapping her arms around her son. “Shh, sweetie, it’s okay.”

“Wait,” Nick said, coming over to put a hand on her shoulder. “Does the smell remind you of something, Joey?” he asked.

Realization dawned slowly, and she pulled away just enough to look down at her son’s face. Joey gazed up at her and then looked over at Nick. He didn’t speak, but he slowly nodded his head yes.

Her heart clenched in her chest as the implication sank deep.

“What does the smell remind you of, Joey?” Nick asked gently. “Can you tell me?”

There was a long silence before Joey answered. “The bad man,” he whispered.

“The bad man who put a hood over your head and carried you away after the crash?” Nick asked.

This time, her son shook his head no. “The other bad man. I didn’t see him, but he spoke in a mean voice and he smelled bad. Like the bottle I accidently spilled in the bathroom.”

The second bad man? For a moment Rachel couldn’t move. Could barely comprehend what Joey meant.

Then she raised her head and locked gazes with Nick. And read the truth reflected in his eyes.

Forcing her to acknowledge that Joey had been somewhere near the man who’d arranged the kidnapping. Thinking back, she realized that their initial theory must have been correct. Morales had dumped the black truck shortly after the crash, catching a ride with someone else. The man who’d ordered the kidnapping in the first place.

Which meant her son might be able to recognize the voice of the man who’d masterminded the entire operation.

Once they found him.

THIRTEEN

N
ick tore his gaze from Rachel’s when he heard the soup boiling. He rushed to the stove to remove the saucepan from the electric burner. “Soup’s ready,” he said.

Rachel shook her head, as if there was no way she’d be able to eat, but he knew they had to try to keep things normal, for Joey’s sake. He filled several bowls with the steaming soup and carried them over to the table in two trips.

“Try to eat something, Joey,” he urged. “You don’t have to think about the bad man anymore.”

“But I can still smell him,” Joey whined.

“Try the soup, and I’ll clean the floor again,” Rachel murmured.

“After you eat something,” Nick said, gesturing to the empty seat. She put a hand over her stomach but sat next to her son. He gave Rachel credit for trying, when she leaned over her bowl. “Hmm, smells good.”

Joey leaned over his own soup and took a tentative sniff. The aroma of chicken soup seemed to appease him enough to take a sip. “Tastes good,” he admitted.

Rachel took a sip, too. “Yes, it does.”

They hadn’t prayed, so Nick said a quick, silent prayer of thanks before taking a spoonful of his soup. The three of them sat in companionable silence as they enjoyed the simple meal. When Joey had finished, Rachel pushed away and carried her bowl to the sink. As soon as she’d rinsed her dishes, she returned to the bathroom.

Nick scrubbed a hand along the back of his neck, knowing that no matter how many times Rachel scrubbed the wooden floor, the scent of Wally’s aftershave would linger.

In Joey’s mind more so than in reality.

He quickly washed the dishes, while Joey went back to sit in front of the fire. The sad expression on the child’s face made his heart ache. Sophie’s life had been cut short by the car crash, but she’d always been a happy child. Loved school and had lots of friends. Both he and Becky had doted on their daughter. The thought of Sophie suffering the way Joey had made his chest hurt.

No matter how important this timeline was, he simply couldn’t ignore Joey. Rachel returned to the room, looking dejected as she dropped onto the sofa beside her son.

“Hey, Joey, how would you like me to read the story of Christmas to you from the Bible?” he asked.

“The Bible has the story of Christmas in it?” Joey asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Rachel winced and he understood she was feeling guilty that Joey didn’t know the real meaning of Christmas. “Yep, it sure does.”

“Okay.”

Nick picked up the Bible and settled onto the recliner. He opened his mother’s Bible to the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 2 verse 7. “‘And she brought forth her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

“‘And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them and the glory of the Lord shone round about them; and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.’”

He continued through verse twenty and when he finished reading, he was humbled to realize that both Joey and Rachel were staring at him, as if hanging on every word.

“And that is the true meaning of Christmas,” he murmured, encouraged that this would be another step for both of them in their journey to believe.

* * *

Rachel loved listening to Nick read from the Bible, but she also felt bad that she hadn’t taught Joey about God and the story of Jesus before now.

“That was a nice story,” Joey said with a wide yawn.

She kissed the top of his head. “It was a wonderful story, wasn’t it? I want you to think about God whenever you feel afraid, okay?”

“I will,” Joey’s voice was soft and sleepy.

Nick set the Bible aside and returned to the kitchen table to continue working on the timeline.

She needed to help Nick, but she didn’t want to leave her son. It wasn’t until Joey’s head tipped to the side, indicating he’d fallen asleep, that she eased away and went to sit beside Nick.

“I suppose you think I’m a terrible mother,” she said softly.

He glanced at her in surprise. “Why would I think that?”

The shame was almost too much to bear, but she forced herself to get this out in the open. “Because I didn’t teach Joey about God. Because I didn’t raise him to believe.”

“It’s never too late to start, Rachel,” Nick murmured. He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “And no, I don’t think you’re a terrible mother at all. If you weren’t raised to believe in God, then it’s no wonder you raised your son the same way.”

She was silent for a long moment, wishing she dared to ask him to hold her. She thought back to her childhood. “I think my parents believed in God—at least, I remember going to church when I was young. But by the time I was Joey’s age, we suddenly stopped going to church...and I pretty much forgot most of what I learned.”

“Do you know why your parents stopped attending church?” he asked. The way he took her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers gave her the strength she needed.

“My mother lost her parents when I was nine, and they died about six months apart. And then when I was in high school, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She passed away my freshman year in college.” The pain of losing her mother had been terrible, but she and her father had clung together to get through it. Easy to look back now and piece together what had happened. The deaths of her grandparents had hit her mother hard, and maybe for some reason she’d pulled away from God. Her father, too, especially after losing her mother.

“I’ve seen that happen sometimes, where a sudden death causes a loss of faith,” Nick said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “But to be honest, Rachel, those are the times when you should lean on God the most. I know it’s hard—I struggled to keep my faith after my Becky and Sophie died.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Becky and I were high-school sweethearts so when I lost her, I felt like I lost my best friend. But now, after all these months, sometimes I have trouble remembering exactly what she looked like.”

“Oh, Nick,” she murmured. No one had ever loved her the way Nick had loved his wife.

He forced a smile. “I guess that might be God’s way of making me realize I have a different path to follow. I know it’s not easy, but if you open your heart to the Lord, you will be rewarded.”

Maybe he was right. Certainly she’d felt some sense of peace when she’d prayed for Joey’s safety. She stared down at their entwined fingers for a moment, feeling connected to Nick in a way she’d never experienced with Anthony.

The thought scared her. She didn’t want to have feelings for Nick. Didn’t want to open herself up to the possibility of rejection. She trusted Nick to keep her and Joey safe, but to trust him with her heart? That was asking too much.

The expression in his eyes when he spoke of his wife made her realize that he might not be ready for a relationship, either.

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “So, let’s get back to that timeline, huh?” she suggested, releasing his hand and turning toward the notebook paper he’d left on the table. “Where did we leave off?”

There was a troubled look in his eyes as he stared at her for a long moment before he sighed and turned toward the timeline. “We left off at the time of Josie Gardner’s suicide or possible murder,” he said.

She nodded. Was she wrong about what Nick wanted? Maybe, but, somehow, it was easier to talk about who might have kidnapped her son than her tangled feelings toward Nick.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by quicker than she would have imagined. Dark clouds rolled in, bringing the threat of a storm, but while the wind kicked up a bit, no snowflakes fell.

Nick walked around outside again, and she was reassured by his diligence. He continued to work on the timeline long after they’d taken a break for dinner.

She bowed her head while Nick thanked God once again for providing the hot meal and shelter. There weren’t many options for dinner, so they had to eat more of the canned beef stew again but no one complained.

“Are we going to be home in time for Christmas?” Joey asked.

“Christmas is three days away, I’m sure we’ll be home by then,” she assured him.

Nick looked as if he didn’t necessarily agree. “We can celebrate Christmas here, too, if we have to,” he pointed out.

She knew he was right. “If we have to, we will,” she agreed. “But hopefully things will get back to normal soon.”

After dinner, Nick continued to work on the timeline. She found a game of checkers on the pantry shelf and played a few games with Joey to help keep him occupied. Soon Nick came over and asked if he could play the winner, and she was truly disappointed when Joey beat her.

As she watched Nick and Joey play, she was struck by how easy it was to feel they were a family. Had she been wrong to warn Nick to keep his distance? He was everything a role model should be: kind and considerate...strong yet gentle. What a wonderful husband and father he must have been. So different from her ex.

Joey won again, and he let out a whoop. She had to make sure her yearning for a family of her own wasn’t visible on her face when she gave Joey a high five.

Several games later, after Joey had yawned for the fifth time in a row, she deemed it time for bed. “Say good-night to Nick,” she reminded her son.

“Good night, Nick, you’re the best dad ever,” Joey said.

Her breath froze in her chest and she stared at her son in horror. Why had he said that? It was as if she’d somehow projected her secret wishes into her son.

“You’re welcome, Joey,” Nick said thickly. “Get some sleep, now, okay?”

“Come on, Joey,” she mumbled, completely mortified by the turn of events. “Good night, Nick.”

“Good night.” Nick gave her a searching look, which she avoided meeting head-on—too afraid he’d see the same sentiment in her eyes. He picked up the Bible and as much as she was tempted to stay and listen while he read some more she had no choice but to go with her son, who was still afraid of the dark. Besides, she couldn’t imagine trying to explain why Joey had called him the best dad ever.

She’d never been more acutely aware of how her son had been impacted by growing up without a father. Had he been looking for a surrogate father this whole time?

Was it any wonder he’d latched on to Nick?

She and Joey took turns in the bathroom, the scent of the aftershave far less obvious now, though still lingering in the air. Joey wrinkled his nose but otherwise seemed fine as he crawled under the pile of quilts on the bed.

Joey immediately fell asleep but, just like the night before, her mind refused to settle. She tried to remember some of the Bible phrases Nick had read but could only recall a line or two.

She kept replaying the moment that Joey had called Nick the best dad ever. She hoped Nick didn’t put too much importance on what her son had said. The way she already had.

At some point she must have dozed, because a noise startled her awake. Another wild animal moving through the woods? She stayed perfectly still, straining to listen.

After several moments, she crawled from beneath the quilts and moved silently over to the window overlooking the back side of the cabin. There weren’t any stars out as they were well hidden behind a blanket of clouds.

She heard it again, the same thunk that had woken her. Did animals make that kind of sound? Somehow she doubted it. She stuffed her feet into her athletic shoes and cautiously made her way down the hall to find Nick.

* * *

Nick shot upright when he felt a hand on his arm. “What?” he asked harshly, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he gazed up at Rachel.

“Get up, I think I heard something outside,” she whispered.

His pulse kicked into triple digits and he swung around to put his feet on the floor. “Are you sure?” he asked in a low, raspy voice as he quickly slid his feet into his shoes and tied the laces.

“I don’t think it was an animal,” she said, her eyes wide with fear. “It was a thunking noise and I heard it twice.”

Nick wrestled with guilt, knowing that he should have taken Jonah’s advice and found a new place to stay. But it was too late for self-recriminations. He needed to get Rachel and Joey safely out of the cabin. “Wake up Joey and make sure he’s wearing his winter jacket and his shoes, okay?”

“Okay.” To her credit, Rachel didn’t panic and went to do exactly as she was told.

He used the poker to break up the remains of the fire, and closed the iron doors on the fireplace, to help douse the flames and eliminate even that small bit of light. The room was plunged into darkness and it took him a minute for his eyes to adjust. He tucked his weapon in his shoulder harness and then went over to peer out the large picture window.

He couldn’t see much, but that was okay, since it helped keep them hidden, as well. When Rachel and Joey returned, he crossed over to them. “Be as quiet as possible, okay? Follow me...we’re going outside.”

Rachel snagged his arm. “Aren’t we safer in here?”

“No, we’re boxed in. Try to trust me on this, Rachel.”

He could barely see her in the darkness. “I do trust you, Nick.”

Whether or not he deserved her trust remained to be seen. But they had to move, so he simply led the way over to the front door. As quietly as possible, he eased back the dead bolt, although the click was louder than he liked. Without wasting time, he opened the door and cast a quick glance around the clearing.

Joey and Rachel crowded behind him, waiting silently for his direction. He took a moment to pray for their safety, before guiding them out onto the front porch, keeping as close to the cabin as possible.

Rachel sent Joey first, and then followed from behind. He didn’t have to tell her to make sure the door didn’t slam shut as she softly closed it before making her way over to where they stood. The night was so cold they could see their breath in the air, and the frozen leaves and brush would make it far more difficult to move silently through the woods.