Her Mistletoe Protector

After everything they’d been through, she was physically exhausted. But her mind raced, replaying every moment of the past twenty-four hours. No matter what she tried, her mind wouldn’t settle and it was only after she recited the Lord’s Prayer, the only prayer she remembered from her childhood, that she finally managed to fall asleep.

* * *

Nick dozed, waking himself up every few hours to put more wood on the fire and to make sure everything was all right outside. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, when they’d spent the night in the car, so he had to depend on the deeply ingrained training his four years in the Marine Corps had given him in order to keep watch, despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

He tried to formulate a plan for the following day, but every time he closed his eyes, he fell asleep. When he dragged himself off the sofa at six in the morning, dawn had lightened the darkness and the fire had dwindled.

It didn’t take long to bring the glowing embers back to life. Since it was too late to go back to sleep, he washed up in the small bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet, thankful to find a somewhat rusty razor along with some ancient shaving cream. There were other items his uncle had left up there, too, but he limited himself to using the razor.

When he came out of the bathroom, he heard movement from the back bedroom. He wasn’t surprised when Joey’s head peeked out from behind the door. “Hi, Nick,” he whispered.

“Good morning, Joey,” he whispered back. Rachel must still be sleeping or he was sure she’d have already put an end to the brief conversation. At some point during the wee hours of the morning, he’d figured out that the main reason Rachel didn’t want him spending time with her son was that she thought he might get too attached to Joey, after the way he’d lost his own child.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the kid gazing at him with wide green eyes, so he gestured for Joey to come out of the bedroom. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

Joey nodded eagerly and slipped through the narrow opening, quietly closing the door behind him. The boy was wearing the same clothes as the day before, not that he seemed to mind. “What’s for breakfast?”

Good question. “I don’t know. Let’s take a look, okay?” He put a hand behind Joey’s back, urging him down the short hall to the main room. Rachel couldn’t be too upset with him for not waking her up, he rationalized, since she obviously needed the rest. “I think I saw some oatmeal,” he said to Joey. “Do you like oatmeal?”

“With brown sugar,” the boy said excitedly.

“I’m not sure we have any brown sugar,” he said cautiously. “But I think there’s some regular sugar, which should work just as well.”

Joey stopped in front of the fire, holding his hands toward the flames as if he were cold. “Did you keep the fire going all night, Nick?”

“Yep. It’s our main source of heat for the cabin.” He found a box of oatmeal, but it wasn’t the instant kind, so he followed the cooking directions on the label.

Joey kept up a constant stream of chatter, and Nick couldn’t help admiring the boy’s quick mind. Rachel’s son was interested in everything, from camping to sports. To help pass the time until breakfast was ready, he showed Joey how to carve small animals in pieces of wood with his penknife.

As they talked, he realized he couldn’t have kept his distance from the boy if his life depended on it.

When the oatmeal was ready, he poured the steaming breakfast into two medium-size bowls. His uncle actually did have some brown sugar stored in an airtight container, so he liberally sprinkled their breakfast before taking Joey’s hand in his.

“We have to pray before we eat,” he said.

“Why?” Joey asked, his gaze curious.

Nick sensed he was heading down a path Rachel might not approve, but he wanted Joey to be given the option of believing in God. “Because we need to thank God for the food we’re about to eat.”

Joey pursed his lips. “Is God in heaven?” he asked.

“Yes, and He’s always there for us, whenever we need Him.”

Joey frowned for a moment. “You think God was with me when I was in the dark, stinky room?” he asked.

Nick’s heart clenched and he nodded. “Yes, Joey, I do. Your mom and I were praying for God to watch over you the whole time you were gone.”

“Really?” Joey brightened at the news. “I wish I would have known that,” he confessed. “Maybe I wouldn’t have been so scared.”