Someone’s after his little boy.

She has one chance to save them both.

When his young son is nearly kidnapped, assistant district attorney Colton Gale needs a Christmas refuge—and a live-in bodyguard. Though former military police officer Jasmine McNeal fights to shield them 24/7, she refuses to get attached. But growing close to the little boy and his father might be her only shot at keeping them alive—and becoming a family beyond the holidays.

CAROL J. POST writes fun and fast-paced inspirational romantic suspense stories and lives in sunshiny central Florida. She sings and plays the piano for her church and also enjoys sailing, hiking and camping—almost anything outdoors. Her daughters and grandkids live too far away for her liking, so she now pours all that nurturing into taking care of two fat and sassy cats and one highly spoiled dachshund.

Also By Carol J. Post

Midnight Shadows

Motive for Murder

Out for Justice

Shattered Haven

Hidden Identity

Mistletoe Justice

Buried Memories

Reunited by Danger

Fatal Recall

Lethal Legacy

Bodyguard for Christmas

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Bodyguard for Christmas

Carol J. Post

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08657-8

BODYGUARD FOR CHRISTMAS

© 2018 Carol J. Post

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“You need to stay inside, Colton. And keep away from the windows,” Jasmine whispered.

He bristled. He was probably used to being the protector. “You’re supposed to stay with Liam.”

“No, I’m supposed to protect Liam and, in the process, also protect you. Right now, there may be a threat out there. I’d suggest you let me go investigate.”

Jaw still tight, Colton dropped his hand and gave Jasmine a sharp nod.

She drew her weapon and opened the door enough to slip through. “Lock this behind me. Don’t open it unless I give you an all clear.”

Colton’s dog Brutus was on the right side of the house, still barking. When Jasmine rounded the corner, Brutus stood with his back to her, facing the front yard. He’d stopped barking, but deep growls rumbled in his chest, and his body rippled with tension.

A rustle sounded a few yards to the side of them, raising the fine hairs on the back of Jasmine’s neck. Every sense shot to full alert with the impending threat of an ambush...

Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve enjoyed our final visit with our Murphy friends. At the suggestion of both my editor and my critique partner, I decided to change it up and have the heroine protecting the hero rather than the other way around.

Colton’s life was shattered with the sudden loss of his wife, then was turned upside down again when someone threatened his son. When circumstances brought Jasmine into his life, though, he found that sometimes God allows healing to come from unexpected sources.

Jasmine had a difficult time accepting the idea of a personal God who would allow bad things to happen to those who serve Him. But sometimes God delivers His people from the storms, and other times He walks us through them. In both situations, when we look for it, we can see the hand of a loving Heavenly Father.

I pray God’s blessings on your life and peace through whatever storms you face.

Love in Christ,

Carol J. Post

He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.

—Psalms 147:3

Thank you to all the people who supported me in writing this series:

My sister Kim, for all the help with research, My critique partners Karen Fleming and Sabrina Jarema, Mom Post for beta/proofreading, My editor Dina Davis and my agent, Nalini Akolekar, My sweet, supportive family, And my loving husband, Chris.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

The wrought iron gate swung inward under a steel-gray sky. Colton Gale eased his Highlander through the opening to climb the road leading into his Atlanta subdivision.

Passing between those large brick columns used to always bring a sense of contentment and warmth. Maybe someday he’d find it again.

“You all right, bro?”

Colton glanced at his twin in the front passenger seat. For someone who lived life flying by the seat of his pants, Cade could be remarkably perceptive.

Colton forced a half smile. “Yeah.”

Cade nodded, silent assent to let it drop rather than acceptance or agreement. “Thanks for going with me this morning. Since you’ve been back in town only a week, I know you’ve got other things to do.”

“No problem.”

When their father retired, he’d signed over the antiquities business to both of them. As co-owner, Colton’s signature was required for official business, like renewing their line of credit, which they’d done that morning.

But giving his John Hancock when needed was where his involvement ended. His job as an assistant district attorney kept him plenty busy. Besides, Cade was the one with the art and antiquities degree. He was also an expert schmoozer. Everyone seemed to let down their guard and trust him, whether it was warranted or not.

Colton rounded a gentle curve, where a huge oak spread half-bare limbs over the road, then cast another glance at his brother. Though their looks were identical, he’d never had Cade’s charisma.

Now the differences in their personalities were even more pronounced. For Colton, studious and sincere had become almost brooding. Though Cade had tried to pull him into the social scene, Colton wasn’t interested. The transition from widowed to single and available didn’t happen overnight. Even six months later, putting on a party face required more effort than he was willing to give.

He heaved a sigh. He knew the platitudes. He’d used them himself—Life is short. No one is guaranteed tomorrow. Somehow, he’d thought those were for other people. The last thing he’d expected was for tragedy to strike his own perfectly ordered life.

“When we get to your house, I’ll have to leave to get to my appointment.” Cade’s words cut across his thoughts.

Colton nodded. He’d expected as much. The business at the company’s bank had taken longer than anticipated. Little Liam would be disappointed. He adored his uncle Cade. Anytime Cade stopped by, Liam always tried to talk him into staying longer.

Well, talk was a misnomer. Except for during frequent nightmares, Colton’s son hadn’t said a word in almost six months. But the silent pleas with those big brown eyes were just about as effective.

Colton rounded a gentle right curve. These were his favorite homesites, with yards that backed up to the stucco wall that surrounded the subdivision, woods beyond.

“Stop.” Cade held up a hand. “Pull over.”

He hit the brake, following his brother’s gaze out the passenger window. A pickup truck was parked in the circle drive in front of the house catty-corner from his. A woman slid a five-gallon bucket from the bed onto the tailgate.

The place had been for sale when he’d left town. Someone had apparently bought it and was doing renovations. From what he’d heard, it had needed it.

Cade put his hand on the door handle. “Have you met your new neighbor? She’s pretty hot when she’s not covered in drywall dust.”

“I thought you had an appointment.”

“I do. But I can always make time for a lady, especially when it involves introducing one to my stick-in-the-mud brother.”

Great. When Colton’s life had fallen apart and he’d needed to get away, Cade had been at the end of his apartment lease and happy to house-sit. During his almost five months here, he’d probably checked out every single woman in the neighborhood. “I don’t need to be introduced.”

“We can at least be gentlemen and help her unload those buckets of paint.”

Colton heaved a sigh, killing the engine, then followed his brother up the drive. The woman cast them a glance, then did a double take. “Whoa, you guys must be twins. One of you is Cade.”

Cade raised a hand. “That would be me. And this is Colton, the smarter, better-looking one.”

Her mouth split into a wide smile, and her dark eyes sparkled below a pixie haircut a shade deeper. He could see why Cade would classify her as “hot.”

Cade had a variety of preferences. Colton measured every woman against one. The comparisons weren’t intentional. They just happened, like a deeply ingrained habit. The thoughts were pointless, because he wasn’t even considering dating, regardless of his meddling brother’s efforts.

The woman extended her hand. “Jasmine McNeal. I’m hoping to have this place move-in ready in another two weeks.” After a firm handshake, she turned back to the truck and reached for the paint bucket.

Colton stepped forward. “Let us get those for you.”

“I can handle them.”

Yeah, she probably could. She was short, didn’t even reach his shoulders. Jeans and a sweatshirt hid her build, but judging from the way she was handling the paint bucket, she was probably well acquainted with the gym.

But he wasn’t the type to watch a woman haul construction supplies, no matter how strong she seemed. While she lowered one bucket to the concrete driveway, he reached into the bed and pulled out the second one.

Cade closed the tailgate. “Sorry to greet and run, but I’ve got an appointment.” He started down the driveway at a half jog, throwing the next words over his shoulder. “I’m borrowing your gate control. I’ll put it back in your car before I leave.”

Colton followed his new neighbor into the house and placed the second bucket on the concrete floor next to hers. Everywhere he could see, carpet had been removed. The walls had numerous patches varying from fist-size to more than a foot in diameter.

She followed his gaze. “Pretty bad, huh? The old owners were carrying the mortgage, and when they had to foreclose, the new people got ticked and totally trashed the place. I’m making progress, though. Someone’s bringing in a hopper tomorrow and texturing the walls. Then I’ll be ready to paint.”

She leaned against the doorjamb between the living and dining rooms. “So, are you visiting Cade?”

“The other way around. Cade was house-sitting for me while I’ve been gone. He’s pretty well moved out now.”

Over the past week, while Cade had worked on gathering his possessions, Colton had done some clearing out of his own, a task that had hung over him for the past half a year. The first four weeks, he hadn’t been able to even think about it. He still wasn’t ready, but it was time.

So three boxes occupied his back seat, with several more packed into the rear. He’d planned to drop the clothing by a thrift store and put the jewelry in the safety deposit box at his own bank. He hadn’t made it to either place before having to get Cade back home. He’d have to run back out this afternoon.

She walked with him to the door. “Thanks for toting the paint.”

“No problem.” When he stepped outside, a single beam of late November sunshine had found its way through the clouds blanketing the sky. Across the street, Cade was backing his Corvette through the wrought iron gate at the end of Colton’s driveway. What stood a short distance beyond wasn’t the most extravagant residence in the neighborhood, but the yard was neatly manicured and the three-bedroom, two-bath home exuded warmth and elegance. Not bad for a former foster kid.

The gate rolled closed, and Cade stopped next to Colton’s Highlander to return the control. Although the community was gated, the wrought iron fence that circled his property added an extra layer of protection. So did the rottweiler who regularly circled the half-acre grounds surrounding his home.

Except Brutus wasn’t waiting at the fence. A vague sense of unease wove through him as he scanned the yard. In his job as an assistant district attorney, he’d made some enemies and received several threats. Most he hadn’t taken seriously. A few he had.

He wished his new neighbor farewell and hurried to his vehicle. At a push of a button, the gate rolled open. Still no dog. The uneasiness intensified.

Colton slid from the Highlander and hurried toward the house. Nothing looked amiss in front.

But where was his dog?

He climbed the porch steps, heart pounding. His three-year-old son and babysitter were inside. He fumbled as he tried to insert the key into the lock. When he finally swung open the door, fear morphed to panic. At the opposite end of the foyer, every drawer in the Bombay chest was open, the contents strewn across the top and overflowing onto the tile floor. On either side, the living room and den were in the same condition.

“Liam!” He ran into the family room. “Meagan!” Where were they?

Dear God, let them be okay.

He headed toward the hall. At half past one, Meagan would have already put Liam down for his nap.

Movement snapped his gaze toward the dining room. As Colton ran into the room, a figure disappeared through the back door, little legs bouncing on either side of his waist. Colton’s knees went weak, almost buckling under him.

Someone was taking his son.

He tore into the room, shattered glass on the floor barely registering before he burst through the back door. Two figures ran toward the rear fence, knit ski masks covering their heads. At his shout, the man carrying Liam turned, then dropped his burden.

Liam hit the ground and landed in a heap, legs curled under him, face turned to the side. A vise clamped down on Colton’s chest. Liam wasn’t moving. Oh, God, please...

No, if the men had harmed him, they wouldn’t be trying to kidnap him.

When he dropped to his knees next to his son, his breath whooshed out. Liam was breathing. His eyes were squeezed shut, and soft whimpers slipped through his parted lips. Colton scooped him up, and little arms went around his neck with a strength that surprised him.

Rapid footsteps approached, and Colton swiveled his head. “Meag—”

But it wasn’t Meagan who’d stopped a short distance away, face etched with concern. It was his new neighbor. What was she doing there?

He rose, clutching Liam to his chest. “I have to find my babysitter.”

Jasmine shifted her attention to the back of his property, and he followed her gaze. A man dropped from one of the lower limbs of his oak tree to disappear behind the wall. A second shimmied out to follow his accomplice.

Colton squeezed his son more tightly. He’d get a tree trimmer out pronto. That same branch had probably given them a way into the property.

As he turned, a dark shape snagged his gaze. It lay several yards from the oak’s trunk, partially obscured by the shrubbery lining the back wall. Brutus. He pressed his lips together. As soon as he found Meagan, he’d check on his dog.

When he looked at Jasmine again, she was already punching numbers into her phone. “I’m calling 911.”

“Thanks.” He’d let her handle it. He ran back to the house. Next to the door, jagged glass surrounded a large hole in the dining room window. He’d check out the security footage later. Or the cops would. He had a camera in back and one in front.

Once inside, he ran room to room, still holding his son while he shouted Meagan’s name. An image rose in his mind—features twisted, hatred shining from eyes so dark they were almost black. One defendant whose threats had sent a chill all the way to his core.

Colton had gotten the man a life sentence. Death would have been better. Drug dealer, gang leader and ruthless killer—men like that didn’t rehabilitate. Before being led from the courtroom in shackles, he’d turned to Colton and made his threat, cold fury flowing beneath the surface. You didn’t get a death sentence for me, but you just secured your own.

Maybe Perez had sent someone for him, and taking Liam was his way of drawing Colton out. Or maybe it was someone else, determined to exact the worst kind of vengeance.

When he started down the hall, a cell phone lay on the floor. Meagan’s phone. His chest clenched. Eighteen years old, her whole life ahead of her.

Oh, God, please let her be safe.

As he stepped into his son’s room, Liam stiffened and let out a wail. Colton cupped the back of his head. “It’s okay, buddy.”

He looked around the room. Drawers hung open, their contents tossed to the floor. Nearby, a Lego village sat in a state of incompletion. Maybe this was where Liam had been playing when the man grabbed him.

Jasmine stepped up behind him. “Cops are on the way. I checked on your dog. He’s unconscious, but his breathing is steady. What happened?”

“Someone just tried to kidnap my son. My house is ransacked and my babysitter’s missing.” He spun to walk from the room.

She stepped out of his way. “Maybe she escaped when the men broke in.”

“And left Liam inside? Not Meagan.”

“Or she could have slipped out to call the police.”

He walked into the bathroom across the hall. “They’d have been here long before now.” The destruction they were looking at didn’t happen in minutes. “She’s here somewhere. She’d never abandon Liam to save—”

Colton cut off his own thought. Had he just heard a thud? His gaze snapped to his neighbor. She’d obviously heard it, too.

He jogged down the hall toward the master bedroom. When he called Meagan’s name again, the thuds grew louder, more insistent. As he entered the room, there was another thud, and the door on the large walk-in closet jumped. He shifted Liam to one hip and swung it back on the hinges.

Meagan lay curled on the floor, hands tied behind her back, ankles bound. Tape covered her mouth. An angry bruise was already forming on her left cheek. When her fear-filled eyes met his, they welled with tears.

Colton tried to pry his son loose, but Liam released a wail that built into a scream of pure terror.

“Here, let me.” Jasmine pushed Colton aside and dropped to her knees. “This is going to hurt.”

When she ripped the tape from the girl’s face, Meagan winced. “I tried to protect him.” The tears flowed in earnest now.

“He’s fine.” Jasmine looked at Colton. “Get me something to cut the rope.”

He pulled a pocketknife from the drawer in his bedside stand. Jasmine had stepped in and taken charge. With a terrified child and a babysitter on the verge of hysteria, he was thankful for the help.

“Why did you come?”

“You.” Without looking up, she continued sawing through the ropes binding Meagan’s ankles. “When Cade was leaving, you started acting weird, like you were worried about something. I figured I’d stay outside and watch you.”

Colton shook his head. He’d just met the woman. How could she identify weird when she had nothing to base normal on? Had to be women’s intuition. After seven years of marriage, he still didn’t understand it.

“When you left your front door wide-open, I knew something was up.” The last rope gave way. Jasmine helped a sobbing Meagan to her feet and led her to the bed. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Colton sat next to his babysitter, Liam in his lap. “What happened?”

“Liam and I were sitting on the floor playing with his Legos when I heard glass shatter.” She drew in a shuddering breath, struggling to pull herself together. “I jumped up to get my phone. I’d left it on the coffee table in the living room.”

She swiped at her tears. “I got halfway back to the bedroom when someone tackled me from behind. He was straddling me, flipped me over and punched me in the head. Everything went black. I just woke up a few minutes ago.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. Today’s events would likely trigger some terrifying nightmares.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you know who attacked you?”

“He was wearing a ski mask.” The tears started anew. “All I could think about was Liam.” She stroked his back. “Is he all right?”

“Just frightened.”

Colton had no idea what his son had witnessed and probably wouldn’t anytime soon. Liam had stopped speaking shortly after his mother died.

“Uh, Colton?”

Something in Jasmine’s tone sent fingers of dread crawling down his spine. He followed her gaze toward the door.

His mahogany dresser occupied a sizable section of the wall to the right of it, the massive mirror framed by curved shelves on either side. Letters were scrawled across the glass in his dead wife’s lipstick.

His foundation shifted, and the room seemed to tilt sideways as the message dived deep into his heart.

“The sins of the fathers...”

From the time he was adopted at age fifteen, he’d attended church. He knew his Bible. The next words went something like “...are visited on the children to the third and fourth generation.” Whoever wrote the phrase was taking the verse out of context, but the intended meaning was clear.

Colton tightened his hold on Liam and buried his face in the boy’s hair, soft and silky like his mother’s had been. Determination surged through him. No one was going to get to his son ever again. He’d see to it.

Sirens wailed outside, growing in volume. Soon the police would be there. He’d give his report. And he’d insist that Meagan go to the hospital.

Then he’d find a bodyguard. Someone big and tough and mean.

The fence encircling the yard, with its electronic gate, the rottweiler prowling the property, the alarm when they were asleep. It wasn’t enough. What had previously been empty threats had just taken on flesh and blood.

He’d do whatever he must to ensure Liam’s safety. Even if it meant paying for around-the-clock protection.

Or leaving Atlanta and starting over somewhere else. Maybe both.

Yes, definitely both.

Jasmine strode down the hall of Burch Security Specialists, her gait heavier than normal. She still had another week blocked off, which would have given her enough time to finish the interior painting before the scheduled carpet installation began. So much for plans. Less than an hour ago, she’d gotten a call from her boss and former commander—she needed to show up pronto for a new assignment.

Gunn didn’t tell her what the assignment was, but something in his tone warned her. She was about to meet another idiot who had his doubts about whether a woman could handle the job. After doing two tours with her in Afghanistan, Gunn didn’t have any of those reservations.

She stopped at the end of the hall. A plaque was affixed next to a closed door—Gunter Burch, Owner in engraved black letters. At her two soft raps, Gunn’s voice boomed a command to enter.

A man sat facing Gunn’s desk, his back to her. He was wearing a suit, sandy-blond hair brushing the jacket’s collar.

“Colton Gale, Jasmine McNeal.” Gunn indicated her with a tilt of his head.

Her jaw slackened when Gunn gave the visitor’s name. “We’ve met.” They spoke the words simultaneously.

“It’s good to see you again.” Colton stood and extended his hand, pinning her with his blue gaze.

Yesterday, his eyes had held panic, desperation, protectiveness. Now a sadness she hadn’t noticed swam in their depths. When he smiled, there was a tightness to it, as if it had been so long since he’d given the gesture a try it no longer came naturally. He and Cade were identical twins, but they wore their personality differences on their faces.

Jasmine accepted the handshake, her grip firm and confident. Colton probably had her five feet two inches beat by a solid foot. The one-inch heel on her boots didn’t make any appreciable difference. He still towered over her.

He wasn’t in bad shape, either, especially for a business type. His jacket hung open. Beneath the dress shirt and narrow tie, the guy was obviously fit. Of course, she’d suspected that yesterday, too.

Colton released her hand. “I take it you work here?”

“For the past three years.” They hadn’t exchanged personal details yesterday. He’d helped her carry in a bucket of paint, then left. At his place, they’d been occupied with more important things.

“What do you do for the company?”

Great. He probably thought she did clerical work. Gunn did that on purpose—referred to her by her nickname when talking to potentially difficult clients and introduced her by her legal name in person.

She straightened the zippered black jacket she wore and lifted her chin. “Bodyguard. Former MP.”

He cocked a brow for a half second before understanding flooded his eyes. “Jaz. Jasmine.” His jaw tightened, and his gaze went to Gunn. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

Jasmine bristled. “I’m sure he told you my qualifications.”

Those blue eyes turned to her again. But the sadness she’d seen was buried under layers of determination. “He did. But I’d assumed Jaz was a man.”

Heat built in her chest and spread. “You felt those qualifications were impressive until you found out they belonged to a woman.”

“I know this sounds sexist. I don’t mean it that way.” He heaved a sigh. “You know what I came home to yesterday. No offense, but I’m looking for someone a little more...intimidating.”

Yeah, someone like her coworker Dom. But Gunn knew what he was doing. Other than the fact that the former sniper was assigned elsewhere, he was built like a linebacker and unintentionally terrified small children.

She drew in a calming breath. Colton was trying to protect his little boy. The reminder was like water splashed on a fire. Enough to slow it down but a long way from dousing it completely.

He continued before she had a chance to respond. “I’m an assistant district attorney, and I’ve put away some really bad dudes. One has decided to go after my son.” He crossed his arms. “I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but I need somebody big and mean.”

He stared down at her, exuding an unmistakable sense of power. In the courtroom, he was probably a force to be reckoned with.

But when it came to protection, so was she. “A thirty-eight stops a man cold, regardless of the size of the hand holding it.”

“What if someone sneaks up behind you?”

“They’d better hit me with a tranquilizer dart first.”

“That’s exactly what they did to my dog.”

Oh. “You’re assuming they could get close enough. Not gonna happen.”

He dropped his arms to his sides. His gaze swept downward to her feet and back up again. Something changed. His eyes held a momentary flash of indecision, then coldness.

She stepped back with her right foot, weight distributed equally between both legs, knees slightly bent. She didn’t get where she was by not being able to read people. Unless she’d completely lost her touch, Colton Gale was preparing to administer a test.

One she was determined to pass.

He lunged toward her, arms swinging upward to capture her. She didn’t give him the opportunity to complete the maneuver. In one smooth motion, she grasped his arm, twisted, crouched and thrust one hip into his legs. Using his own weight and momentum against him, she jerked him forward as she straightened.

He sailed over her, did a flip and landed hard on his back, the plush carpet muffling the thud. Before he could recover, she rolled him over, dropped to one knee and wrenched his right arm behind his back.

He slapped the floor like a wrestler conceding a match. “Okay.” His voice sounded strained. “Point taken.”

She held him a moment longer before releasing him, then rose and watched him get to his feet. “So, tell me about my assignment.” The words were for Gunn, but she kept her gaze locked on her tall neighbor.

“You’re going to live at their home. While Mr. Gale is there, you’ll be responsible for protecting both of them.”

Colton settled himself in the chair where he’d been when she first entered. “But Liam will be your first responsibility.”

“Understood.”

She tamped down her annoyance and sank into the chair next to him. Dom likely never had potential clients doubt his competence. The other three Burch Security people probably didn’t, either. Though not as large as Dom, they were all men.

Colton continued. “Tomorrow morning, we’re heading to Murphy, North Carolina, two hours north. We moved from there a year ago.” He heaved a tension-filled sigh. “Probably should have never left.”

The last words were soft, like a private thought that spilled out without him realizing it. Life had apparently not gone the way he’d hoped. Of course, that was typical for those who walked through Burch Security’s door. People didn’t need a bodyguard when everything was sunshine and roses.

“Where is Liam now?”

“With Cade.”

Colton’s brother rather than his wife. Maybe he was a single parent.

She frowned. She wasn’t good with kids, particularly ones that young. At least, that was what she assumed. In actuality, she’d managed to avoid them. With the exception of a sixteen-year-old amateur model who’d picked up a stalker, all her assignments had involved adults.

“When do I start?”

“Tonight.” Gunn tapped a pen on his desk. “I’ll fill you in on what you need to know. Then you can get your personal belongings together. Corine will be in touch with you after she checks out the leads Mr. Gale gave us.”

She nodded. Corine had worked for Burch Security since a month after Gunn opened shop, and she was a whiz on the computer. If there was information available, she’d find it.

Colton continued. “By nine tomorrow morning, I want to be on my way to Murphy. The sooner we leave Atlanta, the better I’ll feel. Whoever’s threatening us likely doesn’t know about the Murphy house.”

A good reason to go there. But likely not Colton’s only reason. Whenever he spoke of Murphy, his tone held a solid dose of nostalgia. It wasn’t just a physical haven. It was likely an emotional one, too.

But beyond providing a safe place to stay, relocating wouldn’t fix anything. Whatever had transpired over the past year, Colton couldn’t make it unhappen. Time went forward, never backward. Water that flowed under the bridge never came back.

How well she knew.

“Then I guess it’s settled.” He pushed himself to his feet. “You know where I live. See you in two hours?”

“Two hours.” She stood and extended her hand.

After finishing the handshake, he reached across his torso to massage his right arm. One side of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. “Do you always rough up your new clients?”

“Only the ones who need it.”

The smile broadened just a tad. “Staying in Murphy should make your job a lot easier.” That thread of a smile disappeared completely. “As long as we’re not followed.”

She gave a sharp nod. “It’ll be my responsibility to make sure we’re not.”

TWO

The security system’s high-pitched beep punctuated the thunk of the dead bolt as Colton locked the front door. He had no idea when he’d return. After one week back on the job following an almost five-month leave of absence, he’d resigned his position with the district attorney’s office.

Cade had come back after his appointment Thursday afternoon and done a thorough search of the house, making sure he’d moved the last of his possessions. The break-in had shaken him. Apparently, it had taken almost losing his nephew to make him realize life wasn’t just one cosmic joke.

Colton turned from the door, Liam perched on his hip. This time, the house would sit empty. Not only had Cade gotten an apartment, he wasn’t even going to be in town for the next month. He’d teased that he didn’t want to be mistaken for Colton.

In reality, he’d gotten leads on some collections to be auctioned off. Cade’s plans often changed at the last moment. The lifestyle suited him well. He didn’t let anything tie him down, which was why he’d never bought a house, even though he could afford it. Home ownership felt too much like commitment.

Colton headed down the porch steps. A black Suburban waited behind his Highlander. Jasmine stood next to the driver’s door.

Her eyes shifted to him briefly before she went back to scanning their surroundings, ever vigilant. She’d spent the night and slept on the daybed in Liam’s room. Thursday night, Liam had awoken screaming so many times Colton had lost count. Last night’s sleep had been blissfully free of nightmares, at least for his son. Unfortunately, he’d had a few of his own.

As Colton swung open his rear driver door, Jasmine continued to stand guard. Her presence brought just the sense of security he’d hoped.

Before leaving Burch Security yesterday, he’d signed the necessary paperwork. As he had written the check for the first payment, Gunter Burch had reassured him of Jasmine’s qualifications. Between her military background, her civilian assignments and all the advanced training in both capacities, he and Liam were going to be in good hands. Of course, eating carpet fibers had already dispelled whatever doubts he’d had.

Jasmine’s eyes shifted to him, and he nodded. Yes, he was ready. More than ready.

She opened the Suburban’s door. “I’ll be behind you, but I might hang back on the interstate. Keep your phone plugged into your car’s stereo system. Anything suspicious, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.” She was only doing her job, a job that was costing him a pretty penny. But that didn’t stop him from appreciating everything she was doing to protect them.

He leaned into the vehicle to secure Liam in his car seat. Brutus sat next to him, tail thumping against leather. Huge brown eyes seemed to hold sadness, maybe even guilt, as if the dog sensed he’d failed in his job to protect.

Colton fastened the last latch, then leaned across Liam to pet Brutus. “It’s okay, buddy. It wasn’t your fault.”

He straightened and closed the door. Yesterday morning, before going to Burch Security, he’d taken care of the things he hadn’t gotten to on Thursday. Mandy’s jewelry was now locked in his safety deposit box.

Then he’d gone to a thrift store and parked at the open bay door in back. It had taken all the strength he had to climb from the vehicle and pull out the first box. With each one he passed to the volunteer, he’d felt as if he was handing over a piece of his heart.

Now it was done, and several suitcases holding his and Liam’s possessions occupied the space behind the back seat. He’d packed everything he could think of. Anything he’d forgotten, he’d buy in Murphy.

The investigation was far from complete. Cops had viewed the security footage. Besides the knit masks, the intruders had worn gloves, so the likelihood of recovering prints was nil.

As he drove through the subdivision’s exit gate, some of the tension flowed out of him. In two more hours, he’d be pulling up the drive and stopping in front of the log home with its soaring windows and steeply pitched roof.

Warm, cozy and filled with love, it had always held a special place in his heart. He and Mandy had purchased it six years earlier for a weekend getaway and built so many memories.

Four years ago, he and his pregnant wife had decided Murphy was a perfect place to raise children, and they’d made the move. Until the district attorney’s office had lured him back.

Now he was going home.

After several turns, he accelerated up the I-285 ramp. The black Suburban was right behind him, Jasmine at the wheel. Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes. But he didn’t need to see them to know she was watching traffic in more than a defensive-driving sense.

He craned his neck to glance at his son in the rearview mirror. As expected, he was awake, left arm clutching his plush rabbit, right thumb in his mouth. Another change Colton had noticed. As Liam’s speech had gotten less, soon stopping completely, his thumb sucking had gone from only when sleeping to almost all the time. Colton would have to address it eventually, but certainly not now.

He moved into the left lane and accelerated. Varying his speed would make it harder for someone to follow him, at least without Jasmine noticing. He checked his mirrors. On a Saturday morning, traffic was moderate. The Suburban was some distance back, traveling in the right lane. He signaled and prepared to merge onto I-75. As he decreased his speed, several vehicles went around him. He moved into the far-right lane and exited 285 in front of a slow-moving dump truck.

After several miles, he picked up speed again. Soon he’d be on 575, headed toward Murphy. An unexpected sense of anticipation wove through him.

He’d made this move twice before. Each time, it had represented a fresh start, and he’d found freedom, happiness, a sense of belonging.

The first time, he’d been fifteen, leaving behind years in foster care to become part of a real family. The second time, he’d been filled with excitement, ready to start his own family.

This would be a new start also, one he’d never hoped to make. He and Liam, facing an uncertain future, their family unit shattered. Hoping to stay hidden from someone who might want them dead.

The phone’s ringtone cut across his thoughts. It was Jasmine.

“Don’t take the 575 exit. I think you have a tail.”

His pulse picked up speed, and an instant sheet of moisture coated his palms. “Which vehicle?”

“The silver Mustang.”

He looked in his rearview mirror. There it was, one lane to his left, about five cars back. “Can you slow down, get a tag number?”

“I’ve tried. I think he knows I’m with you. Whenever I drop back, he does, too. Won’t give me an opportunity to read his tag.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Ernest Barrett Parkway is the next exit. Easy off, easy on.”

After he disconnected the call, Jasmine slowed down so much he almost lost sight of her. Several cars moved between them. The Mustang didn’t.

As he approached 575, the GPS told him to exit. He ignored it. Jasmine was in charge and he had no problem letting her call the shots.

After he exited I-75, the light ahead was red. He eased to a stop, then dialed her back. “Did our friend follow?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he’s behind the box truck.”

He counted the vehicles lined up in his rearview mirror. In their lane, three waited between him and Jasmine, two more between her and the box truck. Likely every one of them would turn left on Ernest Barrett. If the Mustang followed him and Jasmine back onto 75, they’d know for sure.

The light changed, and he moved forward. As he made his way up the on-ramp, two vehicles followed from Ernest Barrett, a semitruck blocking any farther view.

He completed his merge and touched the phone, still clipped into the dash mount. Jasmine’s rang four times, then went to voice mail.

Maybe she was calling the police, which meant someone was following them. A sense of protectiveness gripped him, an urge to wrap Liam in his arms so tightly no one could pry him loose.

Colton lifted his chin until the rearview mirror framed his son’s face. Sad eyes looked back at him. Brown, just like his mother’s. Liam had gotten Mandy’s eyes and Colton’s blond hair.

When his phone rang a few minutes later, he swiped the screen, heart racing while he waited for Jasmine’s update.

“Sorry, I was on the phone with 911 when you called. He followed us back onto the interstate, hanging back like before. But he knew we were onto him. He got off on Chastain Road, no signal, just whipped it over. The police know to look for the car there, but I’m not holding out high hopes.”

He wasn’t, either. “What now? Exit, then head back south to pick up 575?”

“Not knowing where that Mustang is, I say we continue north and take 411 near Cartersville. It might be a little out of the way, but it’s better than running across those guys again.”

The next two hours were uneventful. When he finally pulled onto Hilltop Road, several miles southwest of town, all of nature seemed to wrap him in a comforting embrace. He was home. The quaintness, the low crime rate, the small-town atmosphere, the feeling of having stepped back into a safer, slower, less complicated time—Murphy was still a great place to raise a child.

He stayed left where the road forked and wound his way upward. He hadn’t been back since Mandy died. For weeks, he’d stumbled around in a grief-induced fog, somehow managing after a two-week bereavement leave to return to his duties and care for Liam when he wasn’t working.

A week later, he’d gotten word that Mandy’s father had had a heart attack. Though he’d survived, it was going to be a long road to recovery. Having just lost their only child, they’d had no one to turn to.

So Colton had taken a leave of absence, loaded up Liam and headed to Montana. He wasn’t sure who had benefited the most from his trip out West. He’d gone to help his in-laws. But in those quiet moments, sitting on the back deck as the sun sank behind the mountains and daylight turned to dusk, then darkness, God had ministered to him. Little by little the frayed pieces of his heart had begun to heal.

Near the top of the hill, he pulled into a gravel drive. A huge hemlock rose from the center of the front yard, hiding the majority of the A-frame log cabin from the view of the road. Trees huddled around the other three sides of the house. The hardwoods’ limbs were bare except for the most stubborn leaves. Brown and curled, they were determined to hang on until they had no choice but to succumb to winter’s fury.

Colton put the vehicle in Park and turned in his seat. “We’re here, buddy. Our favorite place.”

The excitement he tried to inject into his tone had no effect on Liam. He didn’t expect it to. Every week, his little boy seemed to retreat a bit more into himself. And Colton had no idea how to help him. Apparently, his counselors hadn’t, either, because nothing had seemed to work.

Colton climbed from the vehicle and removed his son from the car seat. After retrieving one of the suitcases, he walked up the sidewalk, Liam’s hand in his. Halfway there, Liam broke away and ran toward the house. When he reached the front deck, he looked over one shoulder. Hope had replaced the vacancy in his eyes.

Colton’s heart swelled with emotion. Liam remembered the place.

Of course he did. It was where he’d lived the first year and a half of his life and where they’d spent almost every weekend after that until the past six months.

As soon as Colton opened the door, Liam burst through. He crossed the living room at a full run, skidded around the bar that marked the boundary of the kitchen and disappeared into the bedroom to the right. Colton smiled, laughter bubbling up inside. It was the first glimpse he’d seen of the carefree little boy he used to have. Coming back to Murphy was the best thing he could have done for his son.

Liam reappeared moments later. After running into the master bedroom, he returned to the living room. His gait was shuffling, every bit of excitement gone. Had he worn himself out that quickly?

Colton dropped to one knee in front of him. “What’s the matter, buddy?”

Liam’s lower lip quivered, and his eyes filled with tears.

Colton sank the rest of the way to the floor, realization kicking him hard in the chest.

Liam wasn’t happy to be back in Murphy.

He was looking for his mother.

Colton stretched out his arms and grasped his son’s hands. “Sweetheart, Mommy’s not here.”

When he’d pulled him onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around his little body and held him tightly, rocking side to side, seeking to comfort himself as much as his son.

Movement drew his attention to the left. Jasmine stood in the open doorway, her purse hanging from her shoulder and a suitcase in each hand. She didn’t say a word, but the sympathy in her gaze spoke volumes. She’d had her own heartaches.

Maybe having her there would help ease some of Liam’s sorrow and loneliness. Maybe it would help ease some of his own.

No, Jasmine wasn’t a mother figure. And she certainly wasn’t a wife. That wasn’t why he’d hired her. He’d hired her to protect him and his son.

Once the assignment was over, she’d be gone.

No one would ever take Mandy’s place.

Not in his life or his son’s.

Jasmine parted the curtains and peered into the front yard. Late afternoon shadows stretched across the landscape. Security here was minimal. Actually, it was nonexistent, something that would be remedied this week.

Shortly after arriving at the Murphy house three days ago, she’d walked the premises and come up with a security plan. An alarm system was a minimum requirement. Before the weekend, all windows and doors would be wired and motion-sensing lights installed on the perimeter of the house. For the time being, camera installation was on hold. But it would be scheduled immediately if she felt the need.

She let the cloth panel drop. For the past thirty minutes, she’d made her rounds to several of the house’s windows, checking on Liam in between. This residence wasn’t elegant like Colton’s Atlanta home. But with hardwood floors, tongue-and-groove walls and a fireplace tucked into one side of the living room, it was nice—cozy and rustic. And as long as Colton’s enemies didn’t know he was here, it was safe.

Ideally, she’d have backup, a second or third bodyguard to help patrol and provide relief. But Colton didn’t have as deep pockets as Burch’s celebrity and big-business clients, especially after the extended leave of absence to care for his in-laws—one of the things she’d learned from Gunn after Colton had left the office Friday. If he’d remained in Atlanta, they wouldn’t have given him a choice.

The ringtone sounded on her phone, and she released it from the clip on her belt. The screen ID’d Burch Security as the caller.

Corine’s Southern twang came through the phone. “I’ve checked out some of the names Mr. Gale gave Gunn. I’m still working on it, but there are two people who match the description of the men who tried to kidnap his son. At least their size. Since they were wearing ski masks, that’s all we’ve got to go on.”

“Who?”

“Richard Perez is the first name Gale gave us. Turns out, he has regular visits from his brothers. Both have records, but they’re out now. The older one is tall and lanky. The younger one is close to the same height but built like an offensive lineman.”

Jasmine nodded. “It fits.”

“Another name Gale gave us is Broderick ‘Ace’ Hoffman, who was released three weeks ago. He’s roughly the same size as the thinner guy. We’re checking out people he’s known to associate with to see if any of them fit the other guy’s description.”

As Corine continued to provide information, Jasmine moved to the back door and peered through the paned glass inset. Finally, the admin fell silent.

“Anyone else?” Corine had given her six possible matches.

“That’s it for now. You know Gale’s wife died of natural causes, right?”

“Yeah, Gunn gave me all the history.”

After ending the call, she glanced through the open doorway to Liam’s room. Keeping track of the boy was the easy part of her assignment. He wasn’t a typical preschooler, with boundless energy and a touch of mischievousness. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to play quietly on the floor.

He was also spending his days in preschool. Colton had enrolled him yesterday, after securing his former job with the district attorney’s office for Cherokee County. He’d given her two reasons for the preschool decision. One, he hadn’t hired her to be a babysitter. She couldn’t agree more.

Two, he didn’t want his son spending so much time with her that he’d get attached. More good thinking. Liam’s mother was no longer in the picture, and he wasn’t handling it well.

She’d abide by Colton’s wishes and not let Liam get attached to her. But the sad little boy she’d been charged with protecting stirred something in her. Twenty-five years ago, that had been her—quiet, withdrawn, tormented by nightmares. Unlike Liam, she’d had a mother throughout most of her childhood. And her mother loved her. She’d just been too young and dysfunctional to know how to raise a child.

Jasmine leaned against Liam’s doorjamb, and his eyes met hers. He sat amid a sea of Legos, an almost completed rectangular object in front of him.

She stepped into the room. “What are you building?”

He lowered his gaze and searched through the pieces until he found a truss-shaped one, then snapped it onto an end.

“Are you building a house?”

Liam continued his project without making eye contact again. She turned to leave the room. She’d never been good at one-sided conversations.

At the door, she hesitated. A chest of drawers sat to its right, a framed eight-by-ten photograph on top. She’d noticed it there before but hadn’t taken the time to look at it closely. Now she took the frame down and held it in front of her.

It was one of those studio portraits, with a Christmas background. Colton sat on a stool. A woman was nestled in front of him, Liam on her lap. Colton’s wife. Her hair was a medium brown, the same color as her eyes. Though she wore makeup, it was understated. There was nothing striking about her individual features.

But she was gorgeous. She radiated warmth and friendliness, her easy smile an outward expression of inner joy. If one could deduce personality from a photograph, Mandy Gale was the type of person every woman wanted to have as a best friend. The world had lost someone special.

A key rattled in the front door lock and she set the frame back on the dresser feeling as if she’d almost been caught eavesdropping. Colton was home, with dinner. He’d called forty minutes ago to take her order.

She stepped into the kitchen as the door swung open. Colton held up two plastic bags. “Chinese takeout. Courtesy of China Town Buffet.”

She drew in a fragrant breath. “Smells wonderful.”

Colton carried the bags to the kitchen table. “How did everything go today?”

“Fine.” He wasn’t asking about her day. He was asking about Liam’s. Colton Gale wasn’t a man for small talk. “When I took him to day care, he went from me to his teacher without any fuss.”

“Good.”

He disappeared through the door behind him, then returned a minute later, holding Liam. By the time he had him strapped in to his high chair, she’d filled two water glasses and put milk in a sippy cup.

He removed the foam containers from the plastic bags. “I’m guessing there weren’t any threats.”

“No. Just like yesterday.”

“Good.”

He’d wanted her close but not conspicuous. Although he’d explained the situation to the owner of the day care, he didn’t want to alarm the workers or the other parents. So she’d parked a short distance down the road and watched the activity through binoculars.

After laying a cellophane-wrapped package of plastic silverware at each place, Colton sat adjacent to his son at the four-person table, and Jasmine took the chair opposite Colton. Pleasant aromas wafted up from the container in front of her, and her stomach rumbled.

But she waited. She’d learned her first night there that the Gales never ate without saying grace.

Colton took his son’s hand, then hers. The first time, he’d asked if she minded. She’d said no. Praying before meals was a sweet tradition.

When he bowed his head and began to pray, even Liam closed his eyes. Jasmine did, too, but only out of respect for the man sitting across from her. The God Colton worshipped was one she didn’t like very much—an ever-present, all-powerful God who saw the suffering in the world but chose to ignore it. It was much less disturbing to imagine a distant God who set everything in motion, then turned His back to let nature take its course.

For the fourth night in a row, she listened to Colton thank God for His protection over them. She was the one providing the protection, but whatever.

When he finished his prayer, he tore into the cellophane package that held his plastic silverware and napkin. “I called a fencing contractor at lunchtime. I’m meeting him here at noon tomorrow.”

“Good.” The backyard was fenced, and that was currently where Brutus was. But the entire front was unguarded.

Colton continued in his professional no-nonsense tone. “They’ll connect to the existing fence and take it all the way to the road. They told me if I go ahead with the contract tomorrow, they’ll do the work this weekend.”

“Good. Brutus is our first line of defense. It’s best if he can access the entire yard.”

Colton turned his attention to eating, all topics of business thoroughly covered. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Though they were all living under the same roof, Colton was keeping that professional distance.

That was fine with her. She wasn’t any more interested in a relationship than he was. When the sting of her latest disaster finally faded and she was ready to put herself out there again, it certainly wouldn’t be for a man who was still grieving the loss of his wife.

Frenzied barking from outside sent her into fight mode, and she sprang to her feet. From what she’d gathered, the dog didn’t bark unless he had a reason to. Colton’s clenched jaw and the lines of worry around his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

She retrieved a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and reached the back door the same time he did. He planted his hand against it, his other arm extended palm up for the flashlight. “I’ll check it out.”

“You need to stay inside. And keep away from the windows.”

He bristled. He was probably used to being the protector, especially with women and children.

But that was the job he’d hired her to do. “I’m the one who’s armed and wearing Kevlar.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to stay with Liam.”

“No, I’m supposed to protect Liam and, in the process, also protect you. Right now, there may be a threat out there. I’d suggest you let me go investigate.”

His jaw was still tight, but he dropped his hand and gave her a sharp nod.

She opened the door enough to slip through. “Lock this behind me. Don’t open it unless I give you an all clear.”

After a glance around, she stepped onto the back deck and drew her weapon. Dusk had passed and full night was fast approaching. Brutus was on the side of the house, to her right, still barking.

She crept that direction, dried leaves crunching beneath her feet. A chilly breeze cut right through her, and a shiver shook her shoulders. The light jacket she always wore hid her holster from view but offered little protection against the winter cold. She should have grabbed her coat.

When she rounded the corner, Brutus stood with his back to her, facing the front yard. He’d stopped barking, but deep growls rumbled in his chest, and his body rippled with tension.

A rustle sounded a few yards to the side of them, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Every sense shot to full alert with the impending threat of an ambush.

She wasn’t in Afghanistan anymore. But she didn’t try to shake off the sensation. That state of being constantly on guard, trying to anticipate potential threats before they could become imminent, made her good at what she did.

She clicked on the flashlight and directed its beam into the woods. There was no sign of movement. Had she just heard the wind? Or was someone out there?

After stepping through the gate, she closed it behind her, then approached the tree line. Except for the rustle of leaves in the breeze and Brutus’s low-pitched growls, the night was quiet.

She swept the beam back and forth, studying the ground in front of her. Light reflected against underbrush brown and dried after a couple of winter freezes.

Her hand stilled. At the edge of the woods, decaying growth was pressed down and lying against the ground. Someone had recently come through there.

Whoever it had been was likely long gone. He’d apparently come out of the woods, then run across the front yard, since that was the direction Brutus was looking when she’d first come out.

After making a final rotation with the flashlight, she walked back to the house. The key Colton had given her when they’d arrived was in her pocket. Instead of using it, she rapped on the door. “Let me in.”

It swung inward moments later. As soon as she was safely inside, she spun on him. “I told you not to unlock the door unless I gave you an all clear.”

“You did.”

“No, I said ‘let me in.’ There’s a difference. What if someone was holding a gun to my head?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay, I get it.”

“In that case, you’d take Liam, run out a different way and pray to your God that no one sees you.”

He sank into his chair, the weight of her words reflected on his face. “Did you see anything?”

“Someone came out of the woods and left through the front yard.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You saw him?”

“No. The underbrush was pressed down. When I got to Brutus, he was staring into the front yard, growling.”

She cast a glance at Liam, who was sitting at the table, munching on a rangoon, oblivious to the tension of the adults in the room.

Colton nodded. “It’s possible it was nothing, some teenagers trying to make their way home by dark, not realizing this place is now occupied.” He frowned, wrapping a protective arm around his son’s shoulders. “Or maybe someone was checking to see how secure we are.”

She took her seat opposite him, and he continued.

“We need to keep our guard up.”

“No problem.”

Her guard was always up. Night or day. Sleeping or awake.

Three years ago, she’d left behind the dangers of Afghanistan. But she’d swapped them for other threats, not as constant, but just as real.

If there was one thing Colton would never have to worry about, it was her state of readiness.

THREE

A single lamp burned in the living room, its glow not quite reaching the far corners of the space. The fire that had blazed in the fireplace earlier that evening had long since turned to ash.

Colton sat in the overstuffed chair, silent and alone. How many hours had Mandy occupied this exact spot, curled up in an afghan, an open book in her lap? This had been her favorite place to read.

Now he’d taken over her spot. Except his reading wasn’t for pleasure. A bulging expandable folder sat on the end table next to him, and a bound document occupied his lap. It was the deposition of a store clerk held up at gunpoint.

He flipped the last page, then closed the plastic binder. When he’d slid it back into the expandable folder, he removed the next item for review.

Tomorrow was Friday, the end of his first week back at the Cherokee County district attorney’s office. After almost losing his son, nothing could have kept him in Atlanta. But he’d been blessed that someone was leaving his old office and he’d been able to step immediately into a job. After his extended leave of absence, his savings account was reaching dangerously low levels.

He opened the next piece of discovery, then let his gaze drift to the front wall. Curtains covered all the lower windows, but beyond the edge of the hemlock outside, stars were visible through some of the high trapezoid-shaped windows.

Liam had been in bed for some time. So had Jasmine. Since it was nearing midnight, that was where he should be. Eventually he’d head there—when he was beyond exhaustion and the blessed oblivion of sleep was within reach.

God is in control. It was a fact he’d known since age fifteen. But for the past six months, he’d had to recite those four words again and again. Even more in the past week. Unfortunately, all the reminders didn’t seem to penetrate those inner spaces where peace resided. His world had fallen apart, and he hadn’t been able to regain his footing.

With a sigh, he lowered his eyes to the document in his lap. Sometime later, he stuffed the pages he’d been reading into the folder and rose from the chair. He couldn’t say he’d reached the point of exhaustion, but if he stayed up much later, he’d be worthless tomorrow.

When he turned off the light, a faint glow shone from the partially open door off the side of the kitchen. Burning a night-light was the only way he could get Liam to sleep. If it bothered Jasmine, she hadn’t mentioned it.

He padded silently in that direction, then paused at the open door. Liam lay in the small bed at the far side of the room, eyes closed and thumb in his mouth. A thin curtain of wispy blond hair had fallen over one side of his face. His mouth moved in a series of sucking motions, then again grew still.

Colton drew in a shaky breath. Love swelled inside him, mingled with a sadness that pierced his heart. He was trying his hardest to be both mother and father. But as he’d watched his little boy retreat further into himself, he’d known it wasn’t enough.

He started to turn away, then hesitated. He’d wanted to keep Liam with him during the night, but Jasmine wouldn’t hear of it. She’d said she wouldn’t risk someone again tranquilizing the dog, then slipping in to whisk Liam away while she slept in another room. She was the security expert, so he’d given in, even though he didn’t like it. Having his son sleeping on the opposite side of the house upset every protective instinct he possessed.

But opposite side of the house wasn’t as bad as it sounded. The two bedroom doors were less than twenty feet apart, Liam’s off the side of the kitchen, his off the opposite side of the living room. The house was also equipped with a security system now. According to Jasmine, Tri State had finished the installation at three that afternoon.

Poking his head into the room, he sought out the other bed, against the wall to his right. Jasmine was curled on her side, back toward the wall, blanket tucked under her chin. Instead of resting in its usual soft layers, her short hair jutted outward in disarray, as if she’d done some tossing and turning.

One hand lay near her face. But it wasn’t relaxed and open. Instead, her fingers were curled into a fist. Even in sleep, she projected a tense readiness. Not good for her, but great for his son. And a huge comfort for him. Allowing Jasmine to be responsible for his son’s safety had been a good choice.

He backed away and crept silently through the kitchen. It wouldn’t do to have Jasmine awaken to find him staring at her. She’d probably think he was some kind of a creep. But it wasn’t like that. He didn’t think of her as anything more than his and Liam’s bodyguard.

And he never would. The complete opposite of Mandy, she was so not his type. Where Mandy was soft and relaxed, Jasmine was hard and rigid. The warmth and openness that had always drawn him to Mandy seemed to be lacking in Jasmine. He’d never witnessed anything but cool professionalism. As far as openness, something told him she guarded her personal details like the Secret Service guarded the president.

When he stepped into his room, he left the door open. Ten minutes later, he was lying in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling. Another thirty minutes passed before sleep crept close enough to brush against consciousness. His thoughts slowed, growing more and more random.

A terror-filled wail split the silence. He stumbled from bed, heart in his throat. It took almost landing on his face to realize one foot was still tangled in the sheets. No matter how many times it happened, he’d never get used to Liam’s middle-of-the-night screams. He’d hoped the intensity and frequency would lessen with time, but so far, they hadn’t.

A second shriek set his teeth on edge. Then sobs followed, wails of sorrow rather than fear. He burst into Liam’s room, flipping the switch as he passed. Stark white light obliterated every shadow.

He skidded to a stop. Liam’s bed was empty. Jasmine had already scooped him up and sat in the wooden rocking chair. She held him tightly, his head resting against her chest. Her face was tilted downward as she whispered soothing words into his hair.

She glanced up, meeting Colton’s gaze. Her eyes seemed to hold a lingering wildness of their own. Before he could analyze what he was seeing, she returned her attention to the sobbing boy in her lap.

Liam took a shuddering breath, then lifted one arm to partially circle her waist.

Colton clenched his fists. Jasmine shouldn’t be the one comforting him. Mandy should. The boy needed his mother.

An inner voice told him he was being irrational. On some level he agreed. But he was powerless against the emotions bombarding him.

“I’ll take him.” His tone was stiff and cold.

Jasmine looked up again, her brows drawn together. When she tried to move Liam, his hand tightened around the fabric of her silk pajamas.

Colton reached for him. “Come here, buddy. Daddy’s here.”

Liam finally released his hold. When Colton took him, Liam’s arms went around his neck. He eased himself down onto Jasmine’s bed, since she was still occupying the rocking chair. Already, guilt was pricking him.

“I appreciate what you did for him.” It probably hadn’t been easy. Jasmine didn’t seem like the gentle, motherly type.

“I didn’t mind.”

He owed her an apology, as well as an explanation. Sorry I snapped at you. I was angry that you were here instead of my dead wife.

Okay, maybe not.

“I’m sorry he woke you up.” That was an apology. Sort of.

“I was already awake.”

He wasn’t surprised. When he’d checked on them, she hadn’t looked to be in a sound sleep. At least not a relaxed one.

She looked away. “Nightmares are the pits, especially for kids.”

Her words seemed to be more than an opinion. Her tone held a been there, done that sentiment.

He nodded. “They’re pretty regular, have been ever since... For the past six months.”

“Since your wife’s death.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “It was sudden. Brain aneurysm. We had no time to prepare.” Not that it would have done any good. No amount of preparation would lessen the blow of saying goodbye to one’s soul mate.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes held the same sympathy he’d seen when they’d first arrived at the Murphy house. Not just sympathy. Empathy. Like she’d walked in his shoes. Or some that fit in a far too similar way.

“Thanks.” He forced a smile, but only one side of his mouth cooperated. “I’ve tried to keep things as normal for Liam as possible.” Normalcy when one’s entire world had shifted wasn’t easy to accomplish.

Actually, normal was gone. Trying to recapture the life they used to have was pointless. Instead, he was settling in to a new life, defining a new normal, while still holding on to the few constants. Though it was often the last thing he felt like doing, he’d continued with church, trips to the park and other activities Liam enjoyed, even during their stay in Montana.

Tomorrow would be the first Friday in December, the night of the Murphy Christmas Art Walk. The event had been one of his and Mandy’s traditions and what kicked off the decorating they’d done at the Murphy house, even when they’d lived in Atlanta.

“Tomorrow night...” He started the thought aloud before he could change his mind. He wasn’t kidding himself. Holidays were going to be pure torture. Getting through them would require every ounce of strength he possessed. “I’m taking Liam to the Christmas Art Walk. We’ll need you to come along.”

No way was he taking his son out without Jasmine’s protection. Since arriving in Murphy, he’d felt safe, except for the incident two nights ago when Brutus had caught someone prowling around. Since nothing had happened since, it was probably just kids passing through.

Jasmine shrugged. “Sure. What’s the Christmas Art Walk?”

“We stroll around downtown Murphy, where they have art, food, live music and, of course, the lighting of the tree in the square. We’ll go out for supper first, my treat.”

She gave a sharp nod. “Will do.”

He rose and moved to his son’s bed. As he and Jasmine had talked, Liam’s arms had slowly slid from around his neck. He positioned the boy in his bed and tucked the stuffed rabbit into the crook of one elbow. Liam’s other thumb slipped into his mouth.

Colton straightened and tilted his head toward his son. “His nightmares, they usually only happen once in any given night.”

“No problem, even if it’s more.”

He left the room and headed toward his own. Tomorrow night, he’d be tackling the first of their Christmas traditions.

Same time, same event, same location. There’d even be three of them, like before. But instead of Mandy, Jasmine would be with them.

It just wasn’t right.

But they weren’t a family unit, not the three of them. They were a father and son with their bodyguard. He wasn’t even trying to pretend there was anything more.

It still somehow felt all wrong.

Jasmine stood in Hiwassee Valley rec center’s playground, straight-legged jeans disappearing into the tops of her boots and her jacket hiding both her weapon and her Kevlar vest. Liam sat in one of the swings, fists clutching the chains as she pushed him. He was dressed the same as she was, minus the vest and in tennis shoes instead of boots. Heavier coats waited for them in the car. When the sun went down, they’d need them. Right now, the temperature was pleasant.

Colton had called an hour ago with a change of plans. They were still doing supper and the Christmas Art Walk, but he wouldn’t make it home first. So he’d asked her to meet him at five at the Cherokee County Courthouse downtown. Since she was running early, the park offered a fun detour. Maybe it would not only distract Liam for a short time but also wear him out enough to sleep well tonight.

“Would you like to try out the slide?” Though Liam didn’t respond, she brought him to a slow stop and lifted him from the swing.

Colton had apologized for him disturbing her sleep. In actuality, he hadn’t. She’d awoken from a nightmare herself shortly before he’d started screaming. When she’d scooped him up, she’d still been shaking from her own private terrors.

Then something unexpected had happened. As she’d held and soothed him, an odd sense of comfort had woven through her, shattering the images flashing in her mind and calming her spinning thoughts. The whole experience had caught her off guard. She didn’t seek comfort from anyone. She dealt with everything on her own.

As a child, she’d had no choice. Often, she’d been left alone while her mother partied through the night. Or her mother left her with random people for days on end. Most didn’t want to be bothered. Some did, men who tried to do things she didn’t understand but somehow sensed were wrong.

As an adult, keeping herself closed off had been a hard habit to break. She’d even been tight-lipped with the counselors the army had assigned to help her process the horrors she’d seen and adjust to civilian life.

She led Liam to one of the slides, searching the perimeter as she’d been doing since they arrived fifteen minutes ago. Nothing raised any red flags. Several moms and a couple of dads stood or sat on benches. Jasmine had already matched the adults to their charges.

She was just finishing her three-hundred-sixty-degree observation when something over her left shoulder snagged her gaze. A man stood under the pavilion outside the fence, leaning against one of the posts, watching the activity on the playground. Was he one of those creeps who liked to hang out where young children played? Or was he interested in one child in particular?

Liam climbed the stairs, and she moved around to the base of the slide, keeping the man in her peripheral vision. He continued to watch. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

She shifted position, the weight of her weapon in its holster now more pronounced against her hip. She likely wouldn’t have to draw it. If the man represented any kind of threat, he’d be crazy to act in a public place in broad daylight.

When it came time to leave, he hadn’t moved. Liam walked with her to the Suburban without any objection. As she pulled into the courthouse parking lot, her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Colton was finished. Perfect timing. Two or three minutes later, he approached the passenger side, and she lowered the window.

He leaned inside. “Are you okay with taking your vehicle, or shall we transfer the car seat?”

“I can drive. Hop in.”

He directed her through a turn onto Valley River Avenue. The art walk appeared to be in full swing, with every parking space occupied and people roaming the sidewalks. An alleyway between two buildings opened up into a parking area. If Colton hadn’t been with her, she’d have never found it.

When they’d walked back to the front of the building, a sign overhead announced The Daily Grind.

She looked up at Colton. “A coffee shop?”

“And more. Salads, soups and sandwiches. Fast, but good. One of the favorite places around for people to congregate.”

He opened the door, then walked in behind her, carrying Liam. In front of her, a wide hallway separated the Curiosity Shop Bookstore on the right from The Daily Grind on the left. They joined the end of a short line. Above and behind those working the counter, the menu was displayed on boards. She decided on a grilled panini sandwich with hot roast beef and Swiss.

After placing their orders, they found an empty table at the front. Colton positioned Liam in a booster seat and took the chair next to him. Jasmine sat opposite them. Large windows offered a clear view of Valley River Avenue. People strolled by just outside.

Jasmine shifted her attention to Colton. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Not at the office, but I did put some files in my vehicle before walking over to where you’d parked.”

“Are you always this much of a workaholic?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I’m taking over someone else’s caseload.”

She nodded, even though he hadn’t answered her question. She glanced around the interior space, then looked out the window again. A group of people had stopped to converse, blocking her view of anything beyond.

After they moved on, she scanned the area. The sun had set, and the last rays of light were fading. Her gaze fell on a figure across the street, and she tensed. Shadows hid his face, but the baseball cap, jeans and bulky coat matched the clothing of the man at the playground.

“Is everything okay?”

Colton’s words pulled her attention back inside. For a nonmilitary, nonsecurity guy, he was pretty observant.

She cast a glance back out the window. The guy was gone.

“Everything’s fine.” She wouldn’t alarm him yet. Based on what she’d seen, most of Murphy turned out for this event. The man across the street might not even be the same person. If he was, he hadn’t followed her. She’d been watching too closely.

When they finished eating, Colton looked at his watch. “If we want to make it to the tree lighting, we’ll have to walk fast.”

“I’m up for it if you are.” She stood. “So, what happens at the tree lighting? Other than lighting the tree.”

“There’s children’s music and dance and a kids’ jingle bell walk. Then Santa arrives on a fire truck.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Especially for a kid. She hoped Liam would enjoy it. She would have at that age. If the small town she grew up in had had activities like that, she hadn’t known about them.

Her mother apparently had, at least the adult parties. More than once Jasmine had gotten up in the morning to find that her mother had come in during the night and passed out on the living room floor still wearing a Christmas hat.

When they reached the town square, a good-size crowd was already gathered. Jasmine scanned those standing around, searching for the man she’d seen at the park. Throughout each activity, she continued to look. If he was there, he was staying hidden.

When the last activity ended, Colton shifted his son to his other hip. Liam didn’t participate in the jingle bell walk with the other kids, but his eyes were alert, taking in everything that was going on around him. Maybe next year.

Of course, she wouldn’t be there to witness it.

An unexpected sense of loss settled in her core. She mentally shook herself. Being part of a real family, albeit temporarily, was messing with her. She had no intention of putting down any kind of roots. She loved the transient nature of what she did. The crazy pace helped her stay ahead of the memories.

Unfortunately, the nightmares always managed to catch up with her. No matter what she’d done or where she’d gone, she had never gotten rid of them. After years of fighting, all she’d managed to do was trade childhood terrors for adult-size ones.

As the crowd began to spread out, Colton moved down the sidewalk. “Now for the art walk.”

For some time, they wandered in and out of the shops. Several stores down, a variety of paintings were on display. The artist sat to the side. Jasmine stopped to watch as the woman dipped a brush into one of the globs of paint on her palette, then spread it with sure strokes onto the canvas in front of her.

It looked like a local scene, as did the others around the room. This one was a park with mountains in the background, silhouetted against a striking sunset.

Jasmine stepped away to look at the other paintings more closely. “I’ve always envied artistic people. I never progressed past Paint by Numbers.”

Colton stood next to her. “Mandy painted, watercolor.”

“Your wife.” Colton hadn’t mentioned her name previously, but Gunn had.

“Yeah. She did it as a hobby, but she was good.”

So Liam’s mother wasn’t just loved and needed. She was talented, too. With so many rotten people walking around, why did someone like Mandy Gale have to die? Why did any good people die young? Men and women serving their country, sent home in caskets. What kind of God made those decisions?

When she reached the door, bluegrass music drifted to her from somewhere nearby, probably a local band entertaining the attendees. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, glancing up and down the street.

A man stood about twenty feet away, the glow of a streetlamp spilling over him. The bill of his cap cast his face in shadow, but this time she was sure. It was the man from the park.

She reached for her phone. “Pick up Liam. I want to take your picture.”

When he’d done as she asked, she turned the phone sideways and touched the screen, focusing on the figure to the right. After snapping three pictures, she scrolled through them.

Colton peered over her shoulder. “Usually it’s better to center the subjects you’re taking a picture of. You got Liam, but you cut me in half. I’m glad you’re a better bodyguard than photographer.”

She ignored his teasing criticism and expanded the picture, moving it to the side until a grainy face occupied the center of the screen.

“Do you recognize this man?”

“No, why?” His eyes lit with understanding, then respect. “Who is he?”

She looked back toward the streetlight. As expected, the man was gone.

“I was hoping you could tell me. I took Liam to the park before meeting you. I noticed him standing some distance away, watching the activity on the playground.”

“And you saw him when we were in the Grind.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“I wasn’t sure. He was across the street, in shadow. But when I saw him this time, I knew it was the same guy. Are you sure you’ve never seen him?”

He looked at the picture again. “It’s hard to tell. His face is dark.”

Yeah, the shadows were even more pronounced than what she’d seen. Maybe the authorities could enhance the photos enough to identify him.

She shrank the picture until the man’s full length displayed on the screen. “Could he be one of the guys who tried to take Liam?”

Colton studied the image. “I didn’t see their faces, but this could be the thinner guy.”

She pocketed the phone. Maybe he was one of the kidnappers. Or maybe he was just a Murphy resident who liked to hang out at the park and attend the town’s activities.

But that wasn’t what her gut told her. She’d gotten icky vibes all three times she’d seen him.

When she looked up at Colton, his jaw was tight and his lips were compressed into a thin line. “Are you dead set on finishing the art walk?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Because if there was one thing she’d learned over the years, it was to always listen to her instincts.

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