Her Mistletoe Protector
“Could be nothing more than a deer or some other animal,” he assured her. “Go inside and lock the door. I’m going to take a look around.”
Nick was armed and could probably take care of himself, yet it was still difficult to leave him alone. But now that she had her son back, she wasn’t about to risk losing him again, so she gave a jerky nod.
“Come on, Joey,” she whispered, shielding him as best as she could as they quickly ran in the direction of the cabin. Even after getting safely inside, she couldn’t relax. She secured the dead bolt lock into place, set down the laptop and the first-aid kit on the rough-hewn kitchen table and then doused the lights. She hoped the darkness would shield them from anyone watching from outside, although there wasn’t much she could do about the yellow glow of the fire.
“I thought the bad man was gone?” Joey asked fearfully.
“He is gone,” she said, trying to smile. “You heard what Nick said—I’m sure the noise was probably from a deer. Nick is being extra careful because he’s a police detective and that’s what policemen do. Come sit on the sofa in front of the fire with me.”
Joey went over to the sofa and she desperately searched for something to use as a weapon. A kitchen knife would only work if the thug came in close, so she bypassed that option. Her gaze fell on the trio of fireplace instruments Nick had used earlier to help start the fire. The poker was long, made of cast iron and was pointy on the end. Since the poker gave her the best chance to protect herself and Joey, she carried the stand of fireplace instruments to the right side of the sofa and set the poker so that it was well within reach, before she snuggled in next to her son.
“I’m scared,” Joey whimpered beside her.
Her heart squeezed in her chest. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, sweetie, and neither will Nick,” she said. “You’re not alone anymore. We’re safe here inside the cabin with Nick protecting us.”
He responded by burying his face against her arm, clinging tight. She hugged him close, a wave of helpless despair washing over her. How much more could the poor kid take? He’d already been through so much. More than any child should have to bear.
She’d thought that getting Joey back would solve all her problems, but she was wrong. Because they were here, cowering in the darkness of the cabin, fearing the worst.
Nick was right—they needed to keep investigating in order to find the person who’d set up the kidnapping. Because they wouldn’t be safe until they knew the truth.
Tense with fear and worry, she stared at the front door of the cabin, hoping and praying Nick would return soon.
* * *
Nick melted into the trees, moving slowly and carefully, the way Uncle Wally had taught him all those years ago. He hadn’t liked hunting deer the way Uncle Wally had, but he’d learned enough from his uncle to move quietly through the woods. He held his gun ready, in case he stumbled across a man or wild beast.
White-tailed deer tended to feed in the early morning or early evening, so there was a good possibility that a buck or a doe moving through the woods had made the noise. There weren’t bears in the area, at least not that he knew about. The snapped branch had seemed too loud for a small animal like a raccoon or a skunk, although possums could grow to a fairly good size. Maybe one had fallen out of a tree?
Nick was sure he hadn’t been followed on the ride up to the cabin, so he found it hard to believe the kidnapper could have found them. Even if the kidnapper had the brains and the means to track him here, it would take a lot of expert digging to connect the cabin to him.
He made a slow, wide circle around the cabin. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, no signs of anyone lurking around. He came across a deer bed about twenty yards behind the cabin, which made him relax. Deer were close by, so it was likely that’s what they’d heard.
There was a small structure back there, too, and he moved forward cautiously. When he got closer, he wrinkled his nose at the smell, realizing this was the old outhouse that Uncle Wally had used before installing the well and the small but functional bathroom. He opened the door and flashed his small penlight inside, to make sure it was indeed empty. Then he made his way back around to the front of the cabin.
The lights were off inside, although he could see the flickering flames from the fireplace. He stood on the porch for another few minutes, straining to listen. When he didn’t hear anything, he tapped lightly on the door. “Rachel? Open up, it’s me, Nick.”