The Christmas Piano Tree: What's Christmas without a tree? (A Kissing Creek novel Book 1) (15 page)

“What if I refuse?” Kristen said, stalling. A queasy feeling hit her. She could no longer think about herself, but the years of sacrifice her aunt had made to give her a sense of security.

To see this monster steal it for his own pleasure was maddening.

Are you crazy? Give the man what he wants.

“I’d hate to see your pretty face cut up,” he said, his eye twitching. She cried out when he grabbed her by the hair and laid the cold blade against her cheek.
No, please
. A shiver of fear rippled up and down her spine. “Then
no
man will look at you.”

Laughing, he slammed her down onto the rug. She hit the floor hard, striking her shoulder on the edge of the sofa as she went down. A rippling current of pain went through her. She groaned in agony, but the man merely shrugged.

“Get to work.”

“You won’t get away with this,” Kristen said, pulling herself up to her knees. “My husband will be back soon.” Rubbing her hurt shoulder, she grabbed a reusable grocery bag while looking around for a weapon. Something,
anything
. She
had
to get rid of him, but how?

He scowled at her, his upper lip snarling. “Can it, sister. Your old man ain’t coming back tonight, not after the way you two were yelling and hollering at each other like two critters scrapping over a dead carcass.”

“How did you—”

He smirked. “I had a front row seat out there in the cold.”

So she was right. He
was
watching her.

“Why, you disgusting peeping Tom.”

Grinning, he snuggled up to her, making her cringe, and then cupped her chin in his hand. She fought back the urge to bite him when he brushed her lower lip with his calloused fingers. “I like it better in here. It’s nice and cozy and the company is might pretty.” He gave her a look that chilled her. “Too bad as soon as I get the money, I’ll be moving on.”

“What are you doing in this town anyway?” she said, keeping up her courage. She was on her own. She kept digging for answers while she came up with a plan.

Keep him talking. Don’t show fear.

“No more questions,” he ordered. “Shut up and start filling that bag.”

He let her go and shuffled his feet through the money scattered on the floor, tossing bills up into the air like he was throwing confetti.

Who
was
he? She took a closer look. Tall, heavy build, beard. Eyes red with sagging lids. A drinker.

Dear God, he’s the bank robber.

Why didn’t I see it before?

She understood now why the sheriff suspected Jared.

His next words confirmed her suspicions.

“No wonder the bank didn’t have any money when I paid them a visit today,” he said with a smirk. “It’s all here, waiting for Santy Claus to fill his sack with goodies.”

“Is that true? I heard you got away with a lot of cash,” she said in an even voice, gathering up twenty dollar bills, but her hands were shaking and her heart raced madly. This man was desperate. He’d already threatened her with the knife, God knows what he’d do if he lost his temper again. She had to protect herself.

The iron poker
.

Her eyes darted over to the piano, hoping—

Yes. There it is. Under the piano bench where Jared left it.

“Someone’s pulling your leg, lady,” he said glibly. He kissed a twenty dollar bill, and then put it into his pocket. “I got zip.”

Kristen stopped, her mind spinning.

“Then why did Mr. Carey tell the sheriff you took all the cash deposits?” she muttered, trying to keep him talking. She had to grab that poker, show him that he couldn’t intimidate her.

She was a soldier’s wife, wasn’t she?

A feeling of pride washed over her. Having Jared here for even a short time made her see that even when she thought her life was unraveling, she’d had to strength to build something here and she was damned if she’d let this man take it away from her. She’d made this cottage into a home for her and her child, a place where the foxglove and the violets would bloom this summer and the deep autumnal leaves would fall before next winter.

Her cottage always smelled of fresh bread baking or comforting spices. Now the raw odor of sweat and greed filled her nostrils.

This intruder intended to ruin everything with his selfish demands and threats.

She couldn’t do nothing.

Even as she steeled herself to face him head-on, a slight tremor went through her. Outside the snowstorm picked up, the wind howling and rattling the windows, setting her nerves on edge.

She reached under the piano bench, her fingers grabbing onto several ten dollar bills, then she inched closer to the poker. Perspiration bubbled above her upper lip, its salty taste hitting her tongue when she bit down. If only she could grab the long, slender piece of iron, she’d have a fighting chance.

“Damned if I know why he’d lie to the sheriff about the money,” the robber said, laughing. “Unless the old codger stole it himself.”

Kristen stopped, her pulse racing. She clutched the bag of money to her chest…thinking.

Mr. Carey stole the money
?

Of course, it makes sense. Pulling his daughter out of school, and then foreclosing on local mortgages.

He’s bankrupt.

Oh, that mean, horrible man. Making her terrified of a knock on her door, a letter in the mail.

“You got any beer?” said the thief, poking through the refrigerator. He’d turned his back and wasn’t watching her.

Don’t do anything rash to rile him up.

“No,” she said calmer than she felt.

“Too bad. I’m mighty thirsty, but this’ll have to do.” He grabbed the half-gallon of milk and chugalugged it, spilling it down the sides of his chin. That didn’t stop him from finishing the whole bottle.

This is my chance. He’s not paying attention to me.

Kristen edged her hand toward the iron poker. All the breath in her seemed to leave her. Her fingers went numb, but she didn’t stop. Slowly
, very slowly
, her nails catching on the knitted rug, she reached under the bench. She let go of the fear inside her, her confidence soaring. Just a few inches more and she’d have it in her hand when—

“Why is that man drinking Santa’s milk, Mommy?”

Her heart stopped.

Rachel
.

Standing there in her pajamas, wiping her eyes and holding her rag doll, Lulu Mae. Kristen wanted to die, but this was no time to fall apart. The sight of her innocent babe standing there with a robber invading their home was a mother’s worst nightmare.

“Santa sent him here to help us,” Kristen said, keeping her voice calm so she wouldn’t frighten the child. The last thing she needed was for Rachel to panic. She felt a tug of longing to hold her close. “Go back to bed, baby.”

“I can’t. Lulu Mae got scared when she heard a noise and woke me up,” Rachel said, holding her doll close to her chest. Most likely it was the wind she’d heard, lashing its fury on the small cottage. Kristen wanted to hug her, tell her everything was all right. She didn’t. If she made a sudden move to grab her, no telling what the man would do. It nearly broke her when she realized the little girl could have seen the man threatening her with a knife.

“Shut up, kid,” said the bank robber, throwing down the empty plastic milk bottle on the floor.

“Rachel, didn’t I tell you to go to your room?” Kristen said, easing her body up slowly. This new wrinkle had her heart pounding so fast, her chest hurt. With a sideward glance to make sure the man wasn’t watching her, she slid the iron poker out of sight with a gentle shove of her foot. Slow and easy. Not a sound. She prayed she’d have another chance to grab it.

“Where’s Santa?” Rachel asked, looking around the front room. She was trying so hard to stay awake, thinking she was missing something, she didn’t sense the danger.

“If you mean your daddy, kid, he’s gone,” said the thief, stuffing his pockets with peanut butter cookies he found in the pantry and five dollar bills. He couldn’t stop smacking his lips.

“He’s not my daddy—”

The man’s ears perked up. He stole a glance at Kristen, his mouth salivating, and then he grabbed her around the waist. Fear gripped her, making her shake all over.

“Yeah?” he said, licking his lips and eyeing her full breasts straining against her tight apron. “Looks like I might hang around here after all and get to know your mommy better.”

“Keep your hands off me!” Kristen screamed, pushing away from him, and then gathering Rachel up into her arms. She tried to keep her voice calm, steady, when she said to her little girl, “I’ll put you back to bed—”

“Sit down,” he yelled, angry.

“
Please
,” she begged. “Let me take her back to her room.”

“So you can run out the back door?” He shook his head. “No way. You and the kid are staying here with me so I can keep an eye on you.” He plopped down on the sofa. “With the two of you scooping up cash like Santa’s helpers, I can sit back and watch the fun.”

Kristen winced. After he got the money, then what?

She shuddered at the thought. He was no fool. She could feel his eyes settling on her like a vulture circling overhead. Waiting, thinking. Planning. She knew what he was thinking. He’d never let them go. They could identify him.

“Do what he says, Rachel,” Kristen said, getting down on her knees. “Put the money in the bag.”

“Are we playing a game, Mommy?”

“Yes, honey. It’s just a game.”

“That’s better,” said the bank robber, offering her a false smile. “Now go slow. And don’t make any funny moves. I got real itchy fingers when it comes to my friend here.”

To Kristen’s horror, he sliced through the garland of tinsel hanging from the piano with the knife, cutting the strand of shiny metallic in two.

“Is he going to hurt us, Mommy?” Rachel asked, grabbing onto her mother. Her small body trembled, her eyes big and wide. Her safe world disappeared the moment she saw the knife.

No, dammit, he won’t lay a hand on you. I swear it.

“We’ll be okay, baby.” Kristen glared at the man, her eyes warning him not to harm her child.

“That’s up to your mommy, kid,” he said, sliding his hand up and down Kristen’s bare arm. She flinched and then gritted her teeth to keep from telling him what she thought of him. “And whether or not she plays nice with me.”

“Don’t count on it
!
”
she yelled before she could stop herself.

“Shut up and go back to work,” he shouted, leaning over her in a threatening manner. Her whole body tensed when he pulled Rachel from her arms. The little girl started crying and calling for her.

“Mommy,
Mommy
!”

“Don’t you dare hurt her
!
”
Kristen screamed, the wind roaring so loud it rattled the glass panes. She raced toward her child, but her foot slipped on loose bills strewn on the rug and down she went, pain shooting through her leg, a hot flame traveling up her calf to her thigh. She didn’t quit, just kept going, her arms reaching out, trying to grab her baby.

The man laughed at her efforts, dangling Rachel in the air. Her little girl kept calling for her, the sob in her voice ripping her apart.

Kristen crawled on the floor on her hands and knees, trying to get close to her child, the thief tormenting her with his wild threats. A cold sweat broke out on her skin, making her think,
No time left, I’ve got to act now, get
the poker
, when suddenly she swore she saw a tall figure move outside the window.

Jared?

Did she dare hope?

Jared exploded inside, screaming a silent
no
when he saw the thief put his hands on Kristen.

He’d figured right, the bank robber was here, probably waiting until there was no man in the house to make his move.

The soldier didn’t need to ask himself what came next. Touching her bare skin, the man’s searing eyes clearly reveled in the idea of holding her in an intimate embrace.

No fricking way, ever
.

He was breathing fire by the time he saw the thug grab Rachel from her mother’s arms and dangle her in mid-air, teasing her mercilessly. The man swung the child back and forth, laughing and relishing her acute terror.

Kristen pleaded for him to let her go, but the man laughed like the sick creep he was.

I swear, if you hurt that child, you’ll burn in hell.

After I dump your ass in the icy creek.

His skin crawled when the burly man tossed the frightened kid onto the sofa, and then circled Kristen with a long, lingering stare that left no doubt what was on his mind.

The offensive scene provoked him, filling him with rage.

That such a thing could happen repelled and sickened him. Put him off guard for a moment, but then he snapped back to the mission at hand. Jesus, he had to calm down, not let his emotional attachment to the situation take over.

Something new for him.

The sight of a little pigtailed girl and her beautiful mother in the hands of a madman had nearly brought him to his knees. That could have resulted in a bad tactical decision. Jared wanted to storm in there and carry them to safety. Only his strict military training kept him from smashing through the front door and breaking the guy’s neck.

Stay strong, Kristen.

Don’t let that fiend get the better of you.

I’ll save you and Rachel. I promise, sweetheart.

Breathing hard and sweating in spite of the bitter cold, he calculated his next move. He was okay now. Ready to take the man down. He had one chance to rescue Kristen and her child.

The element of surprise was his greatest weapon.

He moved a few steps closer to the window, so close he took the chance of being seen. He had to. Each foggy breath reminded him that another moment had passed and she was in greater danger than the moment before. He planned his operation with the same precision as a black ops mission. Thinking on his feet. Tracking the target’s movements around the cottage, gauging his mental frame of mind, and then noting how he could get inside. He knew the risks, accepted them. He had no choice. Didn’t want one.

But he was running out of time.

Thick snow flurries kept getting into his eyes and the biting wind whipped at his cheeks. No telling when the snowstorm would stop. Only five minutes ago the Oakes sisters had dropped him off down the road, their faces pale and worried. Betty Ann had hugged him, sending her prayers that he’d find Kristen and her little girl safe. Even Miriam grabbed his arm and told him to take care of the young widow and her child.

The two women stood side by side, keeping their voices low and their hopes high. He’d told them to go back to the school and lock their doors. God willing, the sheriff would get here in time if he needed backup. Nodding, they’d jumped back into their small school bus and then disappeared down the two-lane highway, their headlights on low beams.

It was up to him now.

Fresh footsteps in the snow had alerted him to the presence of an intruder.

The glowing holiday lights were an unsettling reminder of the joy and happiness he’d known such a short time ago. The idea startled him, realizing he was guilty of conjuring up a shiny future with Kristen without accepting the fact that she was hurting as much as he was. In a different way, of course. But hurting just the same.

Seeing him, speaking with him intensified the little things about her life with Scott, he imagined, leaving her feeling confused, uncertain. Private things between a man and a woman he had no right knowing.

That made him uneasy. But it was no excuse.

He’d been a fool to run out on her. Letting his pride rule his head. His frustrations building up to such a point, he threw out one heated argument than another, never giving her a chance to let go of the grief she’d been holding in for so long.

By the time he’d realized that, it was too late.

The damage done.

So out he went into the freezing cold, trying to forget her, but it was driving him crazy. He’d been conditioned for so long not to show his emotions, Jared wondered if he still had any. He was a solider first,
dammit
, but that didn’t give him the right to walk out on her. After all, she was a soldier’s wife.

If only she could be his.

Just thinking of her made his groin ache, and it took some pulling back to ease into battle mode. Tamp down that emotional well of desire that all he had to do was think of her and heat swirled through him. He had to steel his body for what was to come. Then he could lay out his cards, tell the lady how he felt about her.

Boy, could he.

The way she walked so slow and sexy, her cute butt in those jeans, her pretty smile when she looked at him. The love in her eyes when she held her child in her arms. It made him believe in having a dream again, that he could have a future. No guarantee Kristen would ever love him, but he could try. He needed a chance to tell her, that was all.

First, he had to take down the target, and then beat the living hell out of him.

* * * * *

Kristen couldn’t see anyone outside the window, but she felt it deep in her bones. She knew Jared had come back. On this holiest of nights, she had to believe that a greater force was at work here.

Otherwise, she’d go mad.

It was God’s truth
, she mumbled, her voice only a hoarse whisper, but she had to say the words, hoping that would make it true. She wanted to cry out with joy, praying she hadn’t been fooled by the quickly changing crystal pattern of snow and moonlight shining through the glass.

Then, an instant later, everything changed.

The thief ordered her to get her car keys and jacket. Panic ripped through her like he’d cut her with his knife. She couldn’t breathe.

“We’re going for a ride, sister,” he said, spitting on the floor again, and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It made her sick.

No, no
. A penetrating cold sliced through her at hearing his words, her hands clenched at her sides. Terror, black and ugly, dug into her, making her legs heavy, so heavy she couldn’t move. She didn’t have to guess what was on his mind. He was stealing her car and taking her and Rachel with him.

Like hell he was.

“I won’t go with you,” she said bluntly.

“Don’t give me no bull, lady. You and the kid are my ticket to freedom if the local police catch up with me,” he said, grabbing the bag filled with money. Then he turned and grinned at her, taking in several deep breaths before he made his decision. “When we get to the county line, I’ll let you go.”

“Will you?” she dared to ask him.

He laughed. “That depends on you,” he said, mocking her. “If you keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you.”

“Please, you don’t have to do this.”

“Shut up and get going,” he yelled.

“You don’t want to hurt us…take the money. That’s what you want. Let us go,” Kristen said, trying a different tactic to keep him talking and give Jared a chance to make his move.

He is out there, God, isn’t he
?

“Don’t try no headshrinker talk on me, lady. Now get your ass in gear—”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” she pleaded, not giving up.

“We’ll sing
Jingle Bells
all the way,” the thief said, nosing through her breadbox.

Her eyes glimmered with hot tears at hearing his words. The memory of happier times with Scott singing carols in the van as they drove down to Kissing Creek brought her to the edge of desperation, a bitter feeling of loss that was dangerously close to despair.

Once she got into that car, she and Rachel were as good as dead.

* * * * *

Damn, what is that noise in my head? Loud. Very loud.

Jared’s breath came in short puffs of frosty air as a painful agony hammered his brain. A burning pain radiated from his skull down his spine. What he saw before him was very real to him, as if he’d been clubbed across the back of the neck and knocked off his feet.

A damn flashback screwing with his head. Mucking it up.

Taking him off his game.

For chrissakes, not now
.

He willed his mind to stay sharp, focused. Keep to the mission. Sweat ran down his back, wetting his shirt and making him shiver. His throat closed, his eyes blurred. He couldn’t see or hear anything but the movie in his mind. The sounds of men screaming in agony, bullets ricocheting against metal, explosion blasts shattering his eardrums.

Snowflakes hit his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, powdering his face with a cool mask. Awakening him. Easing the pain, soothing him…helping him get his brain back on. Only through sheer willpower did he beat back the noises, the horrific scenes replaying over and over. He did it by thinking of Kristen, her faith in him, the want in her eyes, and her looking so beautiful surrounded by the warm lights of the Christmas piano tree.

He let out the breath he’d been holding.

He was okay now.

With caution, Jared made his way around the perimeter of the cottage until he found a clear vantage point. The circle on the glass Kristen had made earlier was frosted over, but he could see her inside the cottage. He couldn’t help but stare at her for a long moment, relieved. There she was, hands on her hips, defying the jerk in that way of hers that gave a man pause to wonder what it would be like to carry her off and make mad love to her.

Why in the hell such a thought scorched his brain when her life was in danger he didn’t know, but it flooded him with guilt. Keeping desperately to the hope of holding her in his arms again, he flashed back to her looking out that same window earlier tonight. Waiting for him to bring Rachel home, trusting him that he wouldn’t fail her.

He imagined her all smiles and teary-eyed when she heard a man’s footsteps coming up the walkway, thinking it was him. Did she hesitate before she opened the door? Had she been wishing he would return? He wanted with every inch of his being to believe she would have welcomed him back.

But it wasn’t him and a sick feeling suffocated him, thinking about the scene that had followed. Unbearable. Christ, the man put his hands on her, running his fingers over her bare skin like she was a prize kewpie doll he’d won in a carnival.

Jared ground his teeth together and tried to swallow. He couldn’t. Instead he tasted bile in his throat. It sickened him. Because of his inability to face the truth earlier, that he needed help but he was too proud to admit it, she’d had to face the terror of this worthless scum who dared to touch her.

Worse, the man hadn’t stopped looking at her with hunger in his eyes.

With the cunning of a coyote, his back hunched before he pounced on his prey, the bank robber picked his teeth with a knife. Taking his time, enjoying watching her sweat and trying to protect her child.

Jared sucked in his breath. From what he could see, the man had no gun, but a knife could be just as deadly. Then the man said something that made Kristen cry out with an agonizing fear. She shielded Rachel with her body. There was no mistaking the message clearly written on her face.

He intended to kill her. And her child.

Time to move.

Now
.

* * * * *

Never,
never
had Kristen felt more helpless than she did as she wrapped Rachel in her heavy winter coat. She’d nearly died when he threatened to toss them both in the SUV without coats or gloves. They’d freeze in no time in this bitter cold, she’d told him. Grumbling, he let her grab her little girl’s coat, but that didn’t change anything. She had no choice but to do as he asked.

Pray she was right that Jared was somewhere outside. Watching, waiting.

Surely he’d see them leave, stop them before the robber pushed them into the SUV. He wouldn’t let them go.

I was so wrong to let you leave, Jared.

I pray I’ll live to tell you that.

Behind her, the man was looking under the couch, the chair, everywhere for more money. No time to look for her gloves, but she grabbed a pink knitted cap and tied it under her little girl’s chin. Then she sat back on her heels and let out a deep sigh. The child looked like she was going out to play in the snow, not be a hostage to a madman.

“I’m scared, Mommy,” Rachel said, grabbing her and holding her. God, she was shaking, her eyes big and glossy. Kristen felt a surge of hatred toward the thief for doing this to her child. She pulled her hard against her chest, keeping her in a grip so tight she never wanted to let her go.

“Me, too, baby.”