Christmas Bodyguard (11 page)

Standing, she dried off and donned her cover-up, checking her pocket for her weapon. A sound behind her drew her around to stare at Slade silhouetted in the entrance, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Silence accompanied his trek across the tiles to where she was. He hovered over her, his expression hidden in the shadows, but energy poured off him as though he were a live wire. The air thickened with the quiet. Her pulse throbbed against her eardrums.

His fingers curled around hers, and he tugged her closer—dangerously close. “I couldn't sleep, either,” he
finally murmured, breaking the silence. “And then I saw the door open and thought Abbey might be swimming. She's done that sometimes when she's upset.”

“What makes you think I couldn't sleep?” Breathlessness attacked Elizabeth's lungs, and her words came out in a raspy whisper.

“Well, let me see.” His mouth tipped up in a lopsided grin. “It's two o'clock in the morning. Most people are asleep by that time, especially if they have to get up tomorrow and go to school at seven.”

She shivered. “Oh, that makes me think of high school, and I'd just as soon not repeat that time.”

“Just so you know.” He bent close to her ear and continued in a hushed voice. “You are going to a high school tomorrow.”

His teasing tone coupled with the caress of his breath along her cheek caused another quiver that had nothing to do with bad memories of high school. She needed space or she might throw herself at him and demand he kiss her. He lifted his hand to brush wet hair back from her face. The gleam of his wedding ring caught the light.

Reality brought her back to the moment and the fact that she was a bodyguard. She stepped away. “I don't think standing in front of these windows is the best place for you. They aren't bullet resistant yet.”

“How about over there?” He indicated an alcove with chaise lounges, hidden from any prying eyes outside.

“That would be much better. I know there are guards roaming the yard and you're probably safe, but I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't point that out.”

He latched onto her hand and pulled her with him toward the alcove. “Then that cinches it. Since Joshua is asleep, I may need protecting.”

A laugh escaped her throat. “I doubt it.”

“But you said you can't be too sure of anything.” He released her hand and gestured toward the chaise lounges.

“Let's talk. I need to unwind before I can get any sleep. Decorating can be hard work.”

“The kind Mary demands.”

“See? That's probably why you couldn't sleep. You're tense.”

Yeah, she was tense, but it wasn't from the decorating—not really. The journey into her past along with this man's presence wasn't doing anything to help her relax. “I'd better go.”

She started to turn away when he said, “Please stay.”

His request held a wealth of meaning that had nothing to do with being in a dangerous place.

When she didn't move to leave, he inched closer and drew her toward a chair. “I don't want to be alone right now, especially after what happened with Mary and Cindy this evening. It reconfirmed how susceptible we are.”

She had known that because of the type of job she had. If it wasn't for the Lord, she wouldn't get out of bed in the morning. Life was a series of risks people had to navigate through.
Jesus is the light that shows us the way.
“Please, Elizabeth.”

The vulnerability in his appeal was her undoing. She couldn't deny him his request, although in her heart she knew how emotionally risky it was. She swung back toward him and was surprised at how close he was. “For a few minutes.”

He eased down in his chair and lounged back. “How was your swim?”

“I have to admit I could get used to swimming after a long, hard day. There's something about it that makes you forget everything else.”

“Then you should use the pool again tomorrow evening. I figure after school tomorrow you'll need to relax.”

She put her feet up, rested her head back against the chaise lounge and closed her eyes, relishing the sound of the waterfall at the other end of the pool. “Yeah, it wasn't that long ago that I went to high school. That's one time I wouldn't like to repeat.”

“Why?”

Her tension heightened with his question. She popped one eye open and looked at him in the dim lighting. “Because I was picked on and my life was generally made unbearable by a group of girls who didn't like how I dressed or walked or talked or did anything.” The words tumbled from her mouth as though they had a will of their own. Except for once when she'd first come to live with her uncle, she hadn't told another soul about the nightmare her high school days had been—not her parents or Bryan. And now she had confided in Slade—a man she had known less than a week. But instead of panicking at her admission to him, she managed to shake off the taut grip the question had on her.

“I was a nerd in high school,” Slade replied. “Always fidgeting with a computer. When someone needed help with theirs, they brought it to me to fix. Otherwise they didn't say much to me.”

“So I guess we agree that high school stunk for us.”

“Except for the last year. I met Catherine, and she changed everything. She gave me the confidence I needed to believe in myself. Well, that and meeting Jake. Not too many people picked on me because he was my friend. People didn't want to cross him. He was the captain of the football team and on the wrestling team, not to mention he was already riding bulls in the rodeo.”

“No wonder you and Jake are good friends.”

“I'm glad he's finally happy. His fiancée walked out on him a week before they were going to get married. After that, he never got too serious until Cindy.” He sat up straight. “So what's your story? What's the real reason you don't like the holidays?”

“You don't buy my answer about them being too commercial?”

“Oh, I think they are and I believe you do, too, but that isn't the real reason horror filled your expression when you saw all those decorations.” He placed his feet on the tile floor and leaned toward her.

“Memories of growing up in a household with a strict father who never showed me any kind of love have made me avoid anything having to do with Christmas. I never knew what the real meaning of the season was until I became a Christian, but I still have a hard time not remembering how it was as a child.”

“Whereas I had fond memories of the holidays with my wife and daughter, but after Catherine died, I found it hard to keep up the same amount of enthusiasm even for Abbey. Mary has done her best to celebrate Christmas in this house like Catherine did, and slowly my mother-in-law has drawn me into the festivities.”

“Maybe you're finally ready to move on.”

“But you aren't? I hear a lot of anger toward your father in your voice. I may not go to church much anymore, but I do know one of the things the Lord wants us to do is forgive others.”

This conversation was getting too personal. She swung her legs to the floor, determined to move the focus to him—not her. “Why don't you go to church anymore?”

He lifted his shoulder in a shrug, his knee only inches from hers. “I was angry at God for not saving Catherine.”

“Are you still angry?” she asked, realizing she was still mad at her father. She hadn't forgiven him and wasn't sure she could.

Cocking his head to the side, he stared ahead for a long moment. “Not like I was. Anger takes a lot of energy, and right now all I want to do is keep my daughter alive.”

The love that sounded in his voice when he talked about Abbey tempted her to forget she didn't want to get involved with a man, especially one who thought she needed protecting, coddling. She couldn't shake the conversation on Friday about him wanting to fire her and get someone else to watch over Abbey—all because the person behind the threats had expanded to include her. She couldn't have another man in her life who didn't respect her ability to take care of herself.

“Talk about energy, I think the laps I swam has zapped mine. I'm going to try and sleep now.” She stood, needing to end their conversation before she told him more than she already had.

Not a second later he rose, facing her. Reaching toward her, he funneled his fingers through her wet hair. “Thanks for listening to me.” With each word he eased closer.

His silky voice, with a slight Texan drawl, liquefied any defenses she tried to assemble as he brought his head down toward hers.

S
lade brushed his lips over Elizabeth's—once, twice before he settled his mouth on hers and drew her against him, his hands sliding down her back. The touch of her against him awakened feelings in him that he'd thought died with his wife. All he wanted to do was hold Elizabeth in his embrace and protect her from any harm.

He deepened the kiss, and for a brief time the loneliness of the past five years vanished. The taste of her on his lips seared into his memory, threatening to never let go. He shouldn't pursue this, he knew the risk to him if he did, but he couldn't help himself. He needed more in his life. It was as though he'd been starving for years and suddenly a banquet was spread before him. But what would happen if he gave in? He cared about her, and yet he didn't know if he had it in him to love her as he should. He'd given Catherine everything. Was anything left for him to give to another woman?

The realization that he wasn't ready for anything beyond friendship brought him to his senses. He stepped back, ending the kiss abruptly. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.” And yet deep in his heart he wanted to deny the words he'd said to her. He wasn't sorry, not when she made him feel good—alive.

She didn't say anything for a long moment. His heart beat rapidly against his chest.
What were you thinking,
an inner voice shouted over and over.

Finally her features set in a bland expression. She pivoted and strode toward the door. “Elizabeth, wait.”

She took three more steps before she halted. Her stiff bearing conveyed anger, and he couldn't leave it like that.

At the door, he leaned around her and opened it. “I'm sorry. I—”

“Please don't say that again. For the record, I'm not sorry you kissed me. For the past few days I think you and I have been dancing around the issue of this attraction for each other, but now we know it won't go any further.” She sounded as calm as he wished his pulse rate was. Cool as the winter wind that blew outside.

She made her way down the hallway toward the staircase, not glancing at him. He kept pace with her, intending to explain his actions whether she wanted to hear or not. When she planted her foot on the second floor landing, she peered at him and said, “Good night.”

But he wasn't going to be dismissed that easily. He clasped her hand and stopped her escape. “I had one love in my life, my wife. I'm a bit rusty with all of this.”

One eyebrow arched. “What? With kissing or making sure the woman understands no strings attached?”

He opened his mouth to answer her, but she pulled her hand from his grasp and placed two fingers over his lips. “Don't say anything. I understand. My life is totally different from yours. This isn't where I belong—not once the threat is gone. So don't worry. And don't apologize. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm tired and need some sleep.”
Her touch slipped from his mouth, and she quickly strode toward her bedroom.

There was a part of him that wanted to go after her. Make her understand. But understand what? Even
he
didn't understand what was happening between them.

 

The doorbell chimed as Elizabeth rushed into the den for a strategy meeting Monday evening. After spending all day at school with Abbey, she was exhausted but hadn't wanted to be left out. Sheriff McCain was joining her, Joshua and Slade. The test results on the hot chocolate had come back. The chocolate drizzled on the whipped cream had been doctored with syrup of ipecac, almost as if it were a childish prank.

“Sheriff, can I get you something to drink?” Mary asked as she showed him into the room.

“No, I'm good. Thanks.” He took the last chair at the game table and waited until Slade's mother-in-law left before continuing. “Have you found anything else in the house?”

Joshua shook his head. “We did a thorough search today from top to bottom for any kind of listening device or anything else that looked suspicious.”

“Not to mention we threw out all the food that had been opened. Hilda restocked the pantry.” Slade drummed his fingers against the tabletop.

Elizabeth sensed how upset he still was that Joshua had insisted Hilda have a security guard go with her to the store—not because Joshua thought the housekeeper was in danger but because he wanted an impartial person with Hilda. The implication hadn't been missed by Slade or the housekeeper. According to Joshua, Slade had been adamant that Hilda had nothing to do with what was going on at the
ranch, whereas the older woman had accepted the escort with graciousness.

“Why don't you leave town?” The sheriff laid a manila envelope down.

“Then have him follow us and hassle us in an unknown place? No, I'm not going to give him that chance. Nor let him lie low until we finally come back, and then start all over again. We need to find him before he succeeds in killing someone.” The tapping of Slade's fingers on the table increased.

“Okay. I needed to ask. My office and the Dallas police have talked with Kevin Sharpe's friends. No one knows where the boy is, or at least that's what they're claiming. The lab reports on the plumbing truck they found Sunday have come back, and all the fingerprints taken were accounted for. But the steering wheel was wiped clean as well as the door handle and gearshift. We've done some checking on the list of suspects you've given us, Slade, and the only one that looks promising is Paula Addison.”

Elizabeth sat forward. “I thought she was still in prison.”

“She is, but she's been having weekly visits by her boyfriend, an ex-con who was convicted of assault. We're trying to track him down for questioning, but he's disappeared. He hasn't been at his apartment in Silver Chase for several days.” He opened the envelope and withdrew a photo. “This is Dwayne Olsen. Have any of you seen him anywhere?”

Elizabeth stared at the picture, trying to imagine a baseball cap pulled down low, but no matter how much she wished she'd gotten a clear view of the driver of the plumbing truck, she hadn't, not with the tinted windows and the speed the man was going. “I don't think I've seen him.”

Joshua and Slade both shook their heads.

“I'll leave this with you. Show it to your ranch hands. Let the security guards see it, too.”

Slade slid the photo toward him. “I appreciate it.”

Sheriff McCain stood and pushed in his chair. “Oh, you mentioned to me that Sam Howard took a job overseas. I discovered today he was fired from that job two weeks ago and has returned to the U.S. He's living in Oklahoma City with his mother.”

Slade rose and shook the sheriff's hand, thanking him. After the lawman left, Slade settled back into his chair, elbows on the table as he formed a steeple with his fingers. “He's only a few hours away from here. Close enough to cause trouble. Okay, so the list of the most likely suspects at this time is Kevin Sharpe, Sam Howard and Paula Addison's boyfriend.”

Although Elizabeth wanted to add all the cowhands and even Hilda and her daughter, just because they had access, she wouldn't. Having access didn't make a person guilty. There needed to be a motive—something behind what was going on. From what she'd seen, his employees at the ranch respected and liked Slade. “Speaking of Paula's boyfriend makes me think we should take a look at people close to the list of suspects.”

“That's a good suggestion, since we're running out of suspects from DDI.” Joshua took the photo of Dwayne from Slade. “We'll need a recent one of Sam Howard now, since he's nearby.”

“The one in his personnel folder is good. Last I saw him, he hadn't changed in the five years since it was taken.” Slade began drumming his fingers again. “We aren't narrowing this list down at all. We just keep adding to it, and now we're adding relatives.”

Joshua pushed away from the table and to his feet. “We don't want to miss anything.”

“No, I can't afford that.”

The doorbell chimed. Joshua swiveled his attention toward the hallway. “No one was expected. I'd better get that.”

Elizabeth trailed her uncle, with Slade a few steps behind her. Joshua kept his hand near his holster as he checked the peephole. His stiff stance relaxed a little as Abbey came bounding down the staircase with Bosco yapping behind her. Joshua opened the door to let Brody in.

“I'm glad you could come help me.” Abbey hugged a notepad and textbook to her chest. “Let's go into the den to work.”

Slade stepped to the side, and Brody passed him. But when his daughter started to follow, he moved into her path. “It's late.”

A pout tugged at the corners of Abbey's mouth while Bosco sat at her feet waiting. “I'm having trouble with this Algebra II assignment. Brody is good in math. He offered to help me.”

“I could have.”

“I never know when you'll be busy.”

Her statement hit the mark. “He can stay an hour.” Slade clamped his mouth shut and sidestepped to let her by with Bosco trotting behind his newfound friend.

Abbey wouldn't be able to put her off that easily. Elizabeth marched after the teenage girl. Although she'd planned on going up to bed early, Elizabeth didn't trust Brody. She wouldn't be far from Abbey whether the girl liked it or not.

Abbey threw a glance over her shoulder and planted herself in the doorway into the den. “Please don't stay in the same room as us,” she said in voice that held none of
her earlier pertinacity. “I promise you, nothing is gonna happen.” Shadows clouded her eyes. “Please.”

“I won't go far.”

Abbey didn't move right away but stared at Elizabeth, then she murmured, “Fine,” spun around and headed across the room to the game table to sit next to Brody.

Elizabeth backed away and planted herself against the wall across from the entrance into the den. Slade walked down the hallway, took her hand and pulled her toward the staircase.

“What do you think you're doing?” She tried to yank away from him, but he increased his grip.

“Making myself and you comfortable.” He plopped down on the second step and patted it. “Join me. You can see the doorway from here.”

“Aren't you concerned about Brody at all?”

“Not as the person behind this, but I was a teenage boy once and I certainly know what's going through that young man's mind. So yes, as a father I am concerned, but if I smother Abbey any more than she's already smothered, she'll pull something. This is an easy concession to give her.” He settled his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “Besides, this gives us a chance to talk. I think you've been avoiding me since you got home with Abbey.”

“I saw you at dinner and a while ago in the den,” she said, though she had been staying away from him. When she saw him, she thought of their kiss the night before. She thought of her reaction to it, then the disappointment when he'd pulled away from her. She should have been the one to end the kiss, but she'd given in to her feelings.

“Maybe we should talk about last night.”

“Why?” She angled around so she could better keep an eye on the entrance into the den.

“You left upset. That's not what I wanted.”

“What did you want?”

He cradled her face with his large, strong hands. “To kiss you again.”

“Don't!” Panic tangled itself in that one word. She shot to her feet and stood in front of the staircase.

“You're as conflicted as I am.” Rising, he invaded her personal space. “I know all the reasons you and I shouldn't be attracted to each other in here—” he tapped his temple “—but in here—” he placed his hand over his heart “—I want to ignore all common sense and pursue what you make me feel.”

She started around him. “I'll be by the den door.”

“Elizabeth.”

A couple of feet away, she peered back.

He rubbed his thumb over his wedding ring, then he slipped it off his finger and put it in his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Again that panic was back in her voice, and she clenched her teeth to keep from revealing any more of her emotions.

“Finally putting my past behind me. When are you going to?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, you do. You had a lousy childhood, and you're letting it control who you are today. You want to keep people at arm's length. Forgive your father. Move on.”

Tears she hadn't shed in five years welled up from her depths. She wouldn't cry. Not again. “It wasn't just my father.”

“Who else hurt you?”

“My ex-husband.”

He took a step toward her.

She held up her hand. “Don't come any closer. This
discussion is over. I have a job to do.” Whirling around, she hurried down the hallway and took up a place across from the entrance into the den.

As she folded her arms over her chest, she glimpsed Slade climbing the stairs. He'd taken off his wedding ring. She couldn't get the picture of him slipping it off from her mind. For just a few seconds when he had, a seed of hope embedded itself in her heart. Then she remembered her failed marriage and realized she could never make herself vulnerable like that again.

 

Late Friday afternoon, Elizabeth stood in the wings of the stage, watching Abbey rehearse the lead in the play, about a young woman trying to find her way home for Christmas and running into all kinds of obstacles. Abbey was good. The story reflected some of Elizabeth's journey as she pieced her life together after Bryan had left her. Like Laura, the character in the play, Elizabeth had struggled with her self-esteem, thinking she had deserved everything that had happened to her—even the mugging when she'd been searching for a job after the divorce.

This past week witnessing the rehearsals after school had left her raw each night when she'd returned to the ranch. The extra long days at Abbey's school had given Elizabeth the excuse to hole herself in her room when Abbey went to hers after dinner. Because every time she saw Slade, thoughts of his kiss, of him taking off his wedding ring, plagued her with feelings she couldn't have.