Читать книгу Classified Christmas Mission - Lynette Eason - Страница 14

FOUR

Once Amber had helped Sam get a quick sponge bath and into some clean sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt, she waited for him to climb beneath the covers. But then he pushed the blankets away and sat up. “Book. Number One Mom read a book. Please.”

“Number One Mom isn’t here, Sam, I’m sorry.”

He blinked. “Number One Mom is gone.”

“Yes, she is, Sam. She...died.” She didn’t know how much he understood, but he seemed to grasp the concept that his mother wasn’t coming back. Maybe. In some ways he was brilliant and yet, he was definitely still a six-year-old child.

“Number Two Mom read a book. Please.”

Amber opened the app on his phone and brought up his favorite book. A book about dogs and numbers. She read it to him three times before she saw his eyes getting heavy. She closed the app and plugged the phone in next to him. She wasn’t a huge fan of allowing children his age unlimited use of technology, but right now, in their situation, she had to use whatever she could to keep him happy. Once she knew they were safe and his father was either in prison or dead, then they would reevaluate the device usage.

Amber walked back into the den to find Lance standing at the window, his weapon held by his side. She tensed. “What is it?”

“Thought I heard something, but then I caught sight of a doe so maybe I’m just twitchy.”

“Being twitchy might just keep us alive.”

“Right.” After twenty minutes and nothing else happening, she was finally able to relax a fraction. “I’m going to look in on Sam.”

He nodded. Amber walked down the hall to peer in on the child. He lay sprawled on his back, his chest rising and falling with each even breath. Keep him safe, God, no matter how You feel about me, keep that child safe, please. He’s so smart, brilliant really. I know You have some kind of special plan for him. Let him live to fulfill that. She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes and swallowed. Crying accomplished nothing. She wouldn’t start now. Amber returned to the den and found Lance at the back door, peering out the window. He glanced at her when she entered. “How’s he doing?”

“Sleeping. I’m not too surprised. He slept some in the car. It seemed like he slept a lot, but now that I think about it was more like catnaps. He needs a good night’s rest.”

“As do you, probably.”

She couldn’t help the yawn that escaped. “Mmm. Probably.” She walked to the dryer and checked her socks. Dry. Perfect. The boots were still damp so she left them in and started the dryer again. She handed Lance his socks and then sat in the nearest chair to pull hers on.

“Go get the rest, Amber.”

Amber hesitated. She’d had to rely on herself for so long that trusting someone else—even Lance Goode—wasn’t a likely possibility. “I probably wouldn’t fall asleep anyway.”

“You’ve got to or you’re going to get punchy and careless. Trust me, I know.”

Amber rubbed her gritty eyes. It had been all she could do to stay awake and read to Sam. She sighed. Lance was right, of course. She had to sleep. “All right. There’s a couch in Sam’s room. I’ll go try.”

“What about the other bedroom? That would be more comfortable.”

“No, I want to stay close to Sam. If he wakes up in a strange place he might get scared and start to wander. I’ll be fine.” He frowned but didn’t protest. “Wake me in a few hours and you can take a turn.”

He nodded and she headed back down the hall to the room where Sam slept. Sam rolled over and opened his eyes when she walked in. She went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Sam. It’s all right.”

His eyes closed, and she waited for him to drift off again. When she was convinced he was once again sleeping soundly, she snagged a pillow from the other side of the bed, a musty blanket from the closet and made herself as comfortable as possible on the couch. She didn’t expect to sleep but told herself she could at least relax a little. Her lids closed and she breathed deep.

* * *

Lance rubbed his forehead and moved to another window. It had been three hours since Amber had disappeared into Sam’s room, and Lance had just looked in on them. They were both asleep in spite of Amber’s allegation she wouldn’t be able to. He’d figured she would. Her fatigue had rolled off her in waves. He’d pulled the boots out of the dryer and put his on. He’d placed hers by the couch where she now rested. She’d opened her eyes briefly when he’d entered, saw what he was doing and shut them again.

He glanced from her to the sleeping child and shook his head. It was a huge responsibility that she was taking on and he had to admire her determination. He just prayed she let people help her before it was too late.

From his position by the window, Lance caught a glimpse of shadowy movement in the trees near the edge of the drive. He pulled his weapon and narrowed his eyes. Another deer? Or something more sinister? He waited and watched the area.

Nothing.

But he knew he’d seen something.

And then it moved again. Someone was behind the trees. Tension flooded him. His pulse picked up speed and his brain flashed scenarios. Then the shadow broke away and slipped to the next tree closer to the house. Lance saw the rifle in the figure’s hands.

He snagged his phone from the clip on his belt, huffed a breath of relief that he had a signal and dialed his dispatcher even as he moved down the hall to wake Amber. “Gretchen, I need that backup after all. Send it to the Landers cabin. And now.”

“What’s going on, Lance? You need backup then you don’t. Now you do.”

“I’ll explain later. Just get me the backup.” He hung up. At the bedroom door, he paused. “Amber,” he whispered.

Her eyes opened immediately and she sat up. Whatever she saw in his face had her reaching for the weapon that hadn’t left her side. In one smooth move she swung her feet over the side of the couch. She found the boots, slipped her feet in and fastened the Velcro straps. She stood, weapon palmed and ready. She nodded and Lance led the way back into the den area. “What is it?” she asked as soon as they were in the hall with the door cracked.

“Someone’s outside,” Lance said. “I saw his rifle.”

“They found the footprints.”

“That’s my guess.”

She took the front window while he watched the back. Fortunately, the room was small enough that they could communicate without yelling.

“See anything out the front?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“No, what about you?”

“Not at the moment. How many are there?”

“Probably two.” She checked her weapon again. “The good thing is, they probably don’t expect you to be here.”

“I walked in your footsteps so...”

“Exactly. So it just looks like me alone, although they probably figured I’d carry Sam.”

The glass shattered in front of his face and he jerked back, left cheek stinging. Cold air rushed in, and he lifted his weapon to fire back two quick rounds. The front window ruptured.

“Sam!” Amber fired three shots in the direction the bullets had come from then raced down the hallway to the bedroom.

Silence fell for a moment, and Lance figured their attackers were assessing the situation. They hadn’t expected someone to fire back from both sides of the house. Amber reappeared with Sam in her arms, the child wrapped in the comforter from the bed. She stayed in the windowless hallway and set Sam on the floor. “Stay here, Sam, understand?” The child looked sleepy and a little grumpy, but otherwise unalarmed. Amber handed him the ever-present game but he simply set it on the floor beside him, laid down and closed his eyes.

* * *

Amber flinched when the gunfire started up again. More bullets riddled the walls of the cabin and shattered the windows in the kitchen. She swung her weapon to aim through the broken window in the den and fired back. “We’ve got to get out of here,” she gasped. More bullets came her way, and she jerked back against the end table next to the sofa. The lamp crashed to the floor, and she didn’t have time to worry about it. She caught sight of movement to the left, aimed and squeezed the trigger once more. The figure cried out, stumbled and went to his knees.

“Help should be on the way,” Lance said. “I called dispatch. I’m not even sure they’ll be able to get here, but I’m hoping if they do, the sirens will send these goons running.”

“I think I hit one,” she said. She fell silent as she studied the front area and waited for the sound of gunshots to ring through the night air once again. When it didn’t, she looked back at Sam. He lay still where she’d put him, his eyes watchful, trusting.

He sat up. “One thirteen.”

Amber blinked. “What?”

“One thirteen.”

“One hundred thirteen? What does that mean, Sam?”

“Paper said one thirteen.” Then he laid his head back on the floor and closed his eyes.

Amber knew Sam had just told her something very important, but she had no clue what it meant. And she didn’t have time to think about it now. She had to get them out of the cabin and to a safe place.

She heard the roar of an engine and looked out to see a snowmobile glide to a stop. The rider held out a hand to his wounded partner in crime and pulled him up behind him. They sped away and Amber grabbed Lance’s keys from the floor then raced to Sam. She picked him up and he struggled against her for a brief moment then let her carry him.

Lance was already at the back door. She slapped the keys into his hand. “Let’s get to my car,” he said. “We can head to my ranch. We’ll be safe there. I have a couple of guys who work for me. They’ll help watch out for us.”

“First we need to get to your car.”

“Follow me.”

“I need to grab my backpack. And Sam’s shoes.”

“I’ll get it. I’ll throw his shoes in, too.” Lance bolted to the back of the house and returned within seconds.

Amber tried to decide the best course of action. She was used to making split-second decisions when it came to her own safety, but the child in her arms brought a whole new meaning to the word fear. She couldn’t make a wrong move when it came to protecting him. As a result, she hated to leave the security of the cabin, even as iffy as that security was, to venture into the wide-open space of outside.

But they had no choice. She followed Lance out the door, hovering over the boy in her arms. Sam held himself rigid, but didn’t protest her carrying him. A fact for which she was very grateful.

Lance held his weapon ready, pointing one way, then the other. He led the way and she darted after him. She believed that the two who had been shooting at the cabin were gone, but she wasn’t absolutely sure so that meant her nerves were standing on edge.

Lance didn’t hesitate. He kept going through the ankle-deep snow. At least it had stopped coming down for the moment. She didn’t care about the fact that they would be able to follow their prints. Not now.

“Almost there,” Lance said.

Amber’s arms started to ache. It didn’t help that Sam began wriggling. “Down.”

“Be still, Sam. Please.” She huffed. She was in excellent physical condition, but Sam weighed a little over fifty pounds and conditions were working against her.

“Let me take him,” Lance said.

“He won’t go to you. Just keep going, okay?”

Lance didn’t argue. They continued the trek with Amber anxiously watching over her shoulder. Her breath came in puffs, but she didn’t stop.

They raced down the hill, along the tree line, using the trees for cover as much as possible. It felt like a lifetime, but in actuality was probably only about ten minutes before she found herself back on the road. She crossed the street and slipped into the woods. Lance led her to a small clearing where he’d pulled his Ford. Snow covered the vehicle and had hidden the tracks he’d made when he’d pulled in.

He opened the door and helped her buckle Sam in the backseat. She tucked the blanket around him and he leaned his head against the door.

The exertion had kept her warm, but now she shivered in the cold as she hadn’t had time to grab her coat before bolting from the cabin. Amber raced around to the passenger door and climbed into the seat beside Sam. If someone discovered them and bullets started flying again, she wanted to be able to cover Sam with her body.

Or shoot back through the window if she had to.

Within seconds, Lance flipped on his headlights and pulled from his hiding place. “Give it a minute to warm up and I’ll turn the heat on.”

“That’s fine.” She tucked her right hand under her left armpit to warm her nearly frozen fingers. She needed to keep them limber in order to be able to pull the trigger should the need arise.

“A snowmobile picked up that wounded guy,” he said. “I never heard it approach.”

“They parked far enough away then walked in.”

“And when the shooting started, they realized we could hold our own on the firepower. One of them went after it.”

“He had to in order to pick up the guy I shot.”

“Yeah.”

The chains on the tires gripped through the snow and ice and Lance was able to move at a steady, if slow, pace toward his home.

“You’ll need to check with hospitals nearby and see if anyone comes in with a GSW,” she said.

“Yep.”

She sighed. “Sorry. I know you know how to handle this.”

“It’s fine. You never know. You might say something I don’t think of.”

“Right.” She looked at Sam. His eyes were open and he was taking everything in. She leaned toward him. “Sam, what is one thirteen?”

He blinked then crossed his arms across his belly and started rocking. “One thirteen.”

“I know. What is it?” she pressed.

“One thirteen. One thirteen. Number One Dad. Number One Dad.”

“It has something to do with your dad, huh, Sam?”

Sam closed his eyes and continued his rhythmic rocking, counting his backward and forward motion, lips moving silently. Amber knew the child well enough that pressing him now would get her nowhere. She looked out the back window and saw no headlights. In fact, the darkness of the night pressed in all around her. It made her feel safe. Deceptively safe, she knew, but for the moment, she relished it.

Then Lance was pulling into his gravel drive, the chains on the tires crunching the snow and small rocks. “I’m going to park in the garage.”

“Great.”

The door to the three-car garage went up and he pulled the large SUV into the space on the left. The area on the right held a boat and two snowmobiles. He shut the engine off. “Come on in.”

It had been a while since Amber had seen his home. Krissy, his wife, had been alive the last time she’d set foot on the property and he’d made a lot of changes since then.

He opened the back door on Sam’s side and held a hand out to the boy. Sam ignored him and climbed out on his own. Amber shrugged and slid across the seat to follow him. Sam stopped at the door and looked at his feet. Lance unlocked the door, punched in the code for the alarm then led them through a mudroom and into a kitchen. He flipped the lights on then stood still for a moment, listening. Amber did the same, her hand on her weapon.

“Alarm was armed. All looks okay. Stay here a minute.”

She did and he disappeared down a hall. When he returned, he looked slightly less tense. “We’re good.”

“They might have seen your car. They could show up any minute if they got the plate.”

“Maybe. We’ll be prepared for that.” He sent several texts from his phone while she looked around.

“Wow.”

“What?” he asked, finally looking up.

“Your kitchen. It’s really nice.”

He let his eyes roam the area as though seeing it for the first time. “Oh. Thanks.”

“This does not look like it used to. Did you suddenly come into some money?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, was that rude?”

He crossed the room and flipped another switch. The den lit up. As well as a seven-foot-tall Christmas tree in the corner near the fireplace. The lights blinked off and on, a colorful display of festivity. A stark contrast to the darkness she and Sam were battling. He turned with a small smile. “No. It wasn’t rude. I did get some money from Krissy’s life insurance policy, but mostly I’m just handy with a hammer and some power tools. I had a bit of time on my hands after she died.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t spend it all hidden away in my little cave in the mountains. Apparently, it made people worry about me.”

“You still go there?” He’d always loved the caves in the hills. He knew that area better than anyone.

“Sure. It’s a stress reliever for me. My get-away-from-everything place.”

She scowled. “Maybe I should use it as my get-away-from-the-bad-guys place.”

He smiled. “Come on and I’ll show you the guest bedroom. You want to stay in the same room with Sam, I suppose?”

“Yes, that’s probably best.”

“All of my family lives out of town now. Dad got a job transfer a couple of years ago and my sister and her husband and kids live in Nashville. They come visit every now and then. The kids love the ranch.”

“How is Janine? I heard she made you an uncle again a few months ago.”

“Yep.” He smiled. “That makes four for her. Two girls and two boys. She said Billy wanted a basketball team with two subs.”

“Seven kids?”

“I know.”

“Think they’ll really go for seven?”

“Looks like it. She’s homeschooling and seems to love every minute of it—even the days when she’s pulling out her hair and trying to balance their finances.” He smiled. “So, I know you’re tired. I’ve got two guest bedrooms. The one at the end of the hall has its own bath. Why don’t you use that one?”

“Thanks.” She glanced at the clock hanging on his wall. “It’s only midnight. I thought it might be two or three in the morning.”

“Feels like it. Follow me.”

She did and soon she had Sam tucked in. The child was so tired he didn’t have the energy to protest or oppose his new surroundings. He simply closed his eyes and fell asleep.

She heard footsteps in the hall and turned, her hand going to her weapon.

“It’s just me,” Lance said.

She relaxed a fraction. “Sorry.”

“Your adrenaline is still racing.”

“Must be.”

“You’ll need to crash again soon.”

She lifted a brow. “Hmm.”

His lips curved in a slight smile and he handed her a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt. “The pants belong to my sister who visits every so often. The shirt is mine. It’ll swallow you, but it’s clean and warm. The bathroom is stocked with whatever you need.”

“Thanks.” She took the clothes and he stared a moment longer. She couldn’t read his expression and wasn’t sure she wanted to. “Is there something else?”

He started to shake his head then stopped. “You’re not the same Amber Starke I used to know.”

Amber let out a low laugh. “No, I’m definitely not the girl you used to know.” She paused. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Not bad. Maybe not good either. But interesting. Definitely interesting.” He turned and left, and Amber watched him disappear into the den.

Now what did he mean by that? He obviously felt the same tug of attraction she did. And while the thought was exhilarating, it was also...unnerving. She hadn’t planned to be in Wrangler’s Corner long, much less be attracted to a man she thought was lost to her forever. She huffed.

Who was she kidding? Romance and attraction aside, she had killers after her. And even if she didn’t, as long as she was in her line of work, she’d never get involved.

As an operative, before she had become Amber’s handler just six months ago, Kat had met someone she’d thought she might be able to develop a relationship with. She’d gotten involved with a guy named Vincent Ford. She’d met him through her brother and soon found herself defending every move she made.

When she’d finally read him in, he’d dumped her. After that, Kat had wept on Amber’s shoulder about having to lie about her job, her life, her...everything. She’d warned Amber to avoid romantic entanglements at all cost. Amber shook her head. She’d never met the man—Kat had been too worried about introducing him to her friends in the business. Which Amber had understood. Just one more sacrifice she’d had to make thanks to her career.

And now she found herself drawn once again to a man she couldn’t have. Or at least shouldn’t have. She groaned and sighed.

Unwilling to waste any of her remaining energy on thinking about it—or him—she looked around the room.

She needed a hot shower. She wanted a hot shower.

But first things first. She walked to the window to test it and found it secure. As secure as it could be, she supposed. She checked her weapon, tucked the covers around Sam a bit better then walked into the bathroom and turned on the water. While the water heated, she mulled the situation over and over in her mind.

And tried to figure out how she was going to get what she needed and get out of Wrangler’s Corner without getting anyone else involved.

Or killed.