A Time to Protect (17 page)

“Ignore them.” Quinn hugged Chloe, too. “My mother can’t resist a challenge and my father only eggs her on. It’s amazing that your kids got to play at all with those two around. Bren and I used to hide in the basement.”

“You still do that.” Brendan winked at Chloe. “In his workshop.”

“Your envy is showing, brother dear. Is this because your sole talent is hammering a nail crooked?” He chuckled at Brendan’s raised fist, tweaked Madison’s nose and engaged in some strange handshake with Kyle. “I’m thankful nobody pays you to build for me.”

“I’m thankful you’re leaving.” Brendan “helped” him outside and the two traded snowballs before Brendan stepped back inside and closed the door. “It’s almost all melted,” he mourned. “I love snow.”

Chloe made a face but said nothing, too full of happiness to argue. She wandered back to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door. The Montgomery family had arrived after lunch bearing pies and salads and the hugest turkey Chloe had ever seen. Tonight the house had rung with laughter, the kind she’d always dreamed of hearing from a family of her own.

“Hungry already?” From behind her shoulder, Brendan’s voice brimmed with laughter. “Aren’t you the one who said she’d never eat again?”

“Yes. And I meant it. I was just being thankful for all the leftovers, I guess.” Ignoring cream-topped pumpkin pie and golden slices of dark turkey she closed the door and faced him. “I enjoyed today so much. Will you tell your mother that, thank her for shifting things here so they could share Thanksgiving with you? I guess I never realized how much you’d missed out on. I’m sure there are a ton of Montgomery Thanksgiving traditions.”

“We covered all of them, I think. Even Darcy and Fergus
found something to be thankful about and that’s a feat in itself.” His smile faded a little. “Something is wrong. Was it too much for you? I know they’re loud and—”

“No, it’s not that. I loved having them here. It’s just—oh, never mind.” She grabbed a cloth and pretended to polish the sparkling counter. “It was great.”

Brendan didn’t say a word. He lifted the cloth from her hand, steered her into the family room and pressed her shoulders down so she’d sit. He sat beside her, leaned back and simply waited for her to speak.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a Thanksgiving like that,” she finally admitted, gulping down the rush of feelings. “Nothing seemed to ruin it. Not Kyle’s rudeness, not my melting jellied salad, not even the burned gravy. Nothing. They just kept laughing.”

“Because it wasn’t about the food, or Kyle, or your gravy. Thanksgiving is about being thankful for what you have. Whatever it is.” His fingers threaded through her hair, trailing down the long strands until he’d spread it like a shawl across the sofa back. “We have each other, we’re safe and we have enough to eat. We’ve all been blessed. Thanksgiving offers a time for each of us to be reminded of what God has given us instead of thinking about what we want. Maybe no one explained that to you, Chloe. Maybe that’s why you’ve never really enjoyed the holiday.”

“Maybe.” But she knew it was more than that. It had been fun because
he
was here, laughing, teasing, sharing. And she liked that most of all.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” She studied his face, watched him try to hide his smile and knew she was going to like it.

“Tomorrow I’ve arranged for us to take a tour through the Christmas display at the forestry farm. They opened last week and by all accounts it’s better than ever. Quinn’s going to be there, too, so I’m sure that with our backup we’ll be fine.” He paused, tapped her cheek. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes. You said Christmas display. I’d completely forgotten about Christmas!” She stared at him in dismay as visions of being cooped up in the house all through the holidays filled her mind. “How will I—”

His fingers covered her lips. She looked up, saw him shake his head.

“Stop worrying. We’ll handle it. All of it. And Christmas at the Tanner home will be better than ever.”

It would be if he was there.

“It’s already brighter,” she teased. “When did Quinn and your father get in on the exterior decorations act?”

“While you were burning the gravy. You don’t mind? It’s not too garish?”

“It’s lovely.” She rose, stared out the window at her front yard. “Most years I’ve hardly done anything to decorate let alone shape lights into angels and shepherds and things. The whole display is wonderful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Chloe.” Again she felt him behind her, his breath warm against her neck. “I’m afraid I forgot to tell you something.”

Icy frissons twittered down her neck.
Don’t be like Steve
, she prayed silently.
Please don’t be like Steve
. “Oh?”

“I should have told you—our bunch is fanatical about Christmas. We consider the day after Thanksgiving to be the kickoff to the festivities. Be warned.”

“Okay.” Tomorrow was his birthday. He was going to take them to the forestry farm. How close was that to his parents’ house and the surprise party? Oh, why had she ever agreed to help with this?

His hand on her arm drew her back to reality, to the closeness they shared, to the nervousness she still felt when the word trust came to mind.

“I think I’d better get to bed,” she murmured, moving away from him. “Even if you didn’t appreciate it, I put a lot of effort into making that salad.”

“I know what you’re doing.” He remained in the shadows by the window, his face indiscernible. “You can’t keep pretending, Chloe. You can’t keep running away whenever you feel threatened.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure you are. But it won’t help you. You’re just going to have to trust that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Believe me on that.”

“I’ll try—I’ll try really hard,” she whispered, then fled up the stairs into her room and closed the door. But she knew it would not be easy. If push came to shove she wasn’t sure just how far she could go in trusting Brendan, especially where her heart was concerned.

“Ritchie Stark is here,
El Jefe
.”

“Send him in.” He rose, tossed the newspaper onto his chair seat and brushed a hand over his hair. By the time the younger man stumbled into the room, he was ready. “Ritchie.”

“
El Jefe
, I must apologize for my companion’s bad luck. We’ve initiated several attempts but have been foiled by the FBI. They are guarding her every move. It is almost impossible to get close to her.”

“Was attacking the son easier?” he asked softly, tapping his fingers against the table in a rhythm he’d found particularly effective. “Or is it that you do not know the mark—that you have not identified Mrs. Tanner?”

“He had on her coat, sir. And he has the same color hair—”

“Enough.” He hammered his fist against the table to cut off the excuses. “Return to your surveillance and wait for further instruction. The next time Señora Tanner leaves her home she will receive a surprise. Do not mess up this opportunity.” He let his eyes imply the threat. As expected the oaf soon backed out of the room, his squeaky voice ingratiating.

“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. I’ll do that, sir. Right away.”

A moment later someone else stepped into the room.

“Revenge is a powerful force, is it not?” he asked.

“Very powerful,” the agreement came. “It can motivate a person to do things they’d never have dreamed of.”

“Exactly. You put it so succinctly.”

He smiled, confident that his power was solid. Ritchie would do whatever he said. Like everyone else.

“That’s a very impressive show,” Chloe said as they rolled slowly away from the last light display.

Brendan responded in kind, though he had no idea what he’d said. For once he was focused on the job instead of his lovely passenger. “Bogey behind and in front,” he murmured into the lapel piece. In his ear he heard the other agents agree with his assessment. “Quinn, are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” the grumbled response came. “I don’t imagine they’ll ever let me anywhere near the place after this, but, okay, here we go. Remember, drive very slowly until you see the flash. Then gun your engine and move.”

“Got it.” A hush had fallen inside the vehicle. Even Madison’s chatty tones were silenced. The Tanner kids had been purposely placed in the rear seats, agents in front, Chloe beside him. Brendan touched the accelerator to ease them past the giant Christmas tree that marked the end of the trail.

The vehicle in front of them was moving so slowly. Anyone else would have taken the attendant’s waving hand as a signal to get going but this guy was setting his trap. Fortunately Brendan had seen this move before. He waited. The car was directed left. A barricade kept it from backing up. At the flash of light, Brendan hit the gas pedal and raced ahead. Behind him a huge tree now blocked the exit.

“Hey, we’re missing the fireworks! You never said anything about fireworks, Bren.” Kyle twisted around in his seat, intent on watching the display.

“Just for you, Kyle.” Brendan pulled into a prearranged location, turned off the motor and waited, praying that this would
work. Sure enough one black sedan raced out of the farm, followed by a second car three minutes later. Then the all-clear came. “Okay everybody, we’re going to play a little game. See that black van in front of us? I want us all to hurry up and get in it right now. And let’s see how quiet we can keep it.”

It took less than a minute to change vehicles. He let them watch the rest of the fireworks, then joined the line of vehicles leaving the forestry farm.

“Now wasn’t that fun?”

“Oh, yes. It was really interesting.” Chloe gave him a look that said she’d expect answers later. “Did you see your soccer team’s crest, Maddy?”

“Yes! Wasn’t it nice of them to do that when the Springers didn’t even win the championship?”

“You don’t have to win to have someone be proud of you,” Brendan told her. “Nobody expected you to do more than your best and you girls certainly did that. My dad used to tell me you couldn’t beat your best.”

“Didn’t Madison tell me you’d won some kind of soccer trophy?” Chloe asked. “I’d like to see it.”

Her voice wasn’t entirely normal, but Brendan figured that was because she wasn’t happy with his driving. Did Chloe think he would endanger her children? Didn’t her trust extend even that far? He couldn’t see her face because she was looking at her hand fiddling with her pant leg.

“I was pretty proud of that trophy,” Brendan remembered. He decided to take the long way in order to give the other agents time to follow and radioed his change. “Quinn usually took all the prizes.”

“Could we see your trophy?” Madison asked. “Please?”

“Yeah. That’d be way cool, to see what you won when you were a kid.”

Brendan thought he detected a note of sarcasm in Kyle’s voice and checked the rearview mirror but the boy looked truly interested.

“To tell you the truth, I think it’s still buried in Mom’s basement with some of my stuff that I haven’t moved yet,” he told them, feeling a puff of pride at that long ago accomplishment.

“We’d love to see your mother again. She told us all about you guys, how you and Quinn burned a hole in the carpet with your fireplace popcorn. Can we go there and see the trophy? Please?” Maddy asked.

“Yeah, can we? Fiona’s a riot,” Kyle agreed.

Brendan felt a surge of surprise that Chloe didn’t check the kids on that wheedling tone, but maybe she was still tense after the forestry farm.

“I’m not sure Mom’s home tonight,” he told them. “But I guess we could look.” The bubble of pride was getting bigger. He was going to look pretty silly if he couldn’t find the silver trophy. “You guys up for another detour?” he said into the microphone on his lapel.

“Lead on,” came the response.

“Okay.” Brendan made a left turn and headed for his parents’ home. As they passed Montgomery Construction Company he pointed out the obvious. “That’s the family business.”

“Which you didn’t go into,” Darcy teased.

“Which I didn’t go into because I’m much better as an FBI agent.” He picked up speed, finally moving up the familiar driveway to the house where he’d been raised, and parked beside the portico of the house. “This is it.”

“Are they home?” Chloe asked. “Maybe it’s too late to visit.”

“It’s never too late. Mom’s probably wrapping Christmas gifts downstairs.” He asked for a go-ahead, got it and turned around to grin at the kids. “Well, you asked. You can’t back out now. Come on.”

“You go first, Brendan. Pretend that it’s your idea so it doesn’t look like we’re pushing in unannounced.” Chloe stepped behind him. The kids followed suit, Fergus and Darcy at the rear.

“It’s no big deal, honestly. Besides—”

“Happy birthday!”

As friends and family engulfed him, Brendan glanced over his shoulder and caught a look on Chloe’s face which he’d seen before—last night, in fact. A kind of haunted loneliness that turned her eyes the soft yearning blue of a robin’s egg. He saw his mother watching and inclined his head toward Chloe. She nodded. Fiona would take care of Chloe, make sure she wasn’t left out. But she’d also have a lot of questions for him later. Ones he didn’t yet have answers for, ones he didn’t want to ask himself.

After the rowdy party inside, the relative silence of the screened porch was a welcome relief. Chloe nestled down in a hand-built willow chair hugging her arms around her for warmth. Through the gloom she glimpsed two agents on sentry duty, prowling the grounds. She was safe. For now.

Into the crack of silence, Joe’s booming voice echoed onto the porch from inside the house, offering a prayer for the food and asking a blessing on his son. The words were plain, not fancy, the sincerity heartfelt. What was it like to be so comfortable with God, to ask whatever you wanted and relax knowing that it would be taken care of? It wasn’t quite that easy and Chloe knew it, but Brendan and his family were completely at ease in their faith. What did they know that she didn’t? How had they gained such confidence in the God she’d never quite been able to trust?

The wind whispered through the swaying pine trees in a song of moonlit worship to the one who had created them. Chloe rose, moved to the screen door and peered up at the star-filled sky. Was He there? Did He hear?