The Christmas Rescue

“Check things out. I’ll be in shortly,” he said, heading over to rummage in the back of his jeep.

“Brianna, bring Clyde inside,” she said. Kayla kept Brianna close as she did a quick walk-through. The house was eerily silent. Normally she loved being out in the middle of the woods, far away from civilization, but for some reason the silence bothered her now. Maybe she was still unnerved by finding a dead body in the lake. She glanced around, looking at her things. From what she could tell, everything was exactly the way she’d left it.

Her apprehension drained away. Rafe hadn’t found anyone. Everything was fine. She was silly to be so anxious. Obviously she’d forgotten to set the alarm.

“Brianna, it’s time to brush your teeth and get ready for bed.”

Her daughter groaned, but headed toward their private rooms off the back of the kitchen.

She took the leftover box of pizza and shoved it into her empty fridge. The night out had been an extravagance she really couldn’t afford. It was very nice that Rafe had offered to pay. And now she and Brianna would have leftovers tomorrow night, which was a good thing, considering her cash reserves were pitifully low.

She tried to shrug off the gnawing concern. She’d figure out something. She always did.

“Kayla?”

Rafe’s husky voice sent her pulse skyrocketing into triple digits. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves before turning toward him. “Yes?”

“Come here. I’d like to show you something.” He reached for her hand and the warmth of his touch sent a tingle of awareness up her arm.

He shut off the living room light and she was momentarily blinded by the darkness. “Come outside for a minute, but watch your step.”

Curiously, she followed him outside. When he shut the door, she could see the small green light glowing from the keypad, indicating the system was engaged.

Rafe’s presence was noticeable, even in the darkness. He stood close. Too close. She eased back a step.

“Your passcode is 7724, right?” he asked.

She sucked in a harsh breath. “How did you know?”

He turned a switch and her porch was awash in a strange, purple glow. He aimed the black light at the keypad. “See how this black light picks up the little bit of oil residue from your fingertips? I could tell the numbers you used were 247 but I didn’t know which order. It didn’t take me long to figure it out, especially since I knew you were born in 1977. It may take a stranger a little longer, but not much. Once they have the three digits, it narrows down the possibilities immensely.”

Speechless, she could only stare at the evidence he’d presented. He was right. Again.

He tapped in the code and then opened the front door and walked back inside the living room, turning the lights back on. “That’s why I told you to change your passcode every couple of weeks. To prevent anyone from figuring it out.”

“I never realized,” she murmured, sobered by his brief experiment. Her earlier fears came rushing back. She couldn’t hide her apprehension. “Do you think it’s possible someone was here?”

He paused for a moment, and then slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t. If the intruder was smart enough to crack your code to gain entrance to your home, he’d certainly be smart enough to engage the alarm again when he left. Why advertise he was here? I believe you forgot to set it.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “You’re right. I’m just being silly. And I will change the code, I promise. And I’ll clean the keypad regularly, too, as an added measure. Thanks for checking things out for me.”

Rafe hesitated at the door, gazing down at her, his expression troubled. “Maybe I should stay. I don’t like the thought of leaving you and Brianna all the way out here alone.”

Her breath congealed in her throat and she didn’t know what to say. Having Rafe nearby would be pure torture, and she wasn’t sure her nerves could handle the stress. And Brianna would only get more attached to him than she already was. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said finally. “And besides, you work tomorrow, don’t you?”

His intense gaze was mesmerizing, his brown eyes so dark they were almost black. “Yes, but at least I could make certain you’re safe here tonight.”

“We’ll be perfectly safe,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “I’m expecting guests tomorrow and they’ll be staying through the weekend. I have lots to do to get ready. Really, we’ll be fine.”

He stared at her for a long moment, before finally nodding. “All right. But promise you’ll call if you need me. Do you have my number?”

She hoped he didn’t notice the embarrassed flush in her cheeks. Taking his number seemed so—intimate. But when he waited expectantly, she pulled out her cell phone. “No, I don’t. But I’ll program it in now. What’s the number?”

Rafe recited his cell number and she quickly entered the number into her phone. She wouldn’t call him, of course, but knowing he was within reach if for some strange reason she did need him was oddly comforting.

“Good night, Kayla.” He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. The slightest brush of his fingertips on her skin made her shiver.

She took a step back, plastering a smile on her face. She kept her tone light. Friendly. “Bye, Rafe. Drive safe.” When he left, she closed the door and then leaned against the wooden frame, her legs weak. She really had to figure out how to get a grip of her emotions around him. After all, he was just a man.

“Mommy? I brushed my teeth.” Brianna skipped into the living room, glancing around. “Where’s Mr. Rafe?”

“He had to go home,” she said, straightening away from the door.

Brianna’s face fell. “But he forgot to say goodbye.”

Her heart twisted in her chest before it plummeted to her stomach. This was exactly why she couldn’t call Rafe. Brianna already cared about him, too much.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She gave her daughter a hug. “He must have been in a hurry to get back to work. Come on, it’s bedtime.”

“I wanted Mr. Rafe to tuck me in.” With a dejected pout, Brianna allowed her mother to take her back to their private rooms. Clyde followed, jumping up on the bed next to Brianna. He’d been sleeping with her since he was an infant puppy and there was no breaking him of the habit now.

She tucked Brianna in bed and gave her a hug and a kiss before shutting off the light and closing the door. Back in the kitchen, Kayla kept busy making a grocery list of the bare essentials she’d need for her weekend guests.

But even as she worked, she couldn’t keep her mind off Brianna’s keen disappointment. She’d known her daughter had been hinting for a father. Brianna had gone so far as to ask why Kayla didn’t go out on any dates like her friend Sophie’s mother did. She’d tried to change the subject, but Brianna seemed to have a one-track mind.

Going to the memorial hadn’t spurred questions about her dead father, as Kayla had hoped. Apparently, Brianna was more interested in trying to replace Jeremy with someone new.

And Kayla was very much afraid that Brianna might have picked Rafe as a potential candidate to be her new father.

The next night Kayla tumbled into bed, exhausted after getting her guests settled in. It seemed like mere seconds later when a sharp scream pulled her from a deep slumber.

She leaped out of bed, stumbling in the darkness as she sought and found the light switch. She winced and shielded her eyes from the harsh brightness that flooded the room.

The sound had come from upstairs. She opened Brianna’s door to make sure she and Clyde were all right, and then headed down the hall, through the kitchen and into the great room. Her guests, two married couples, were coming down the stairs from the second-floor loft.

“I’m telling you, I saw a man trying to get into our room!” The older woman, Gloria Hanover, spoke in a shrill voice.

“I didn’t hear anything,” her husband, Edward, muttered.

“I’m so sorry,” Kayla said, hurrying forward. “Did you already call the police? Or should I?”

Gloria shook her head no.

“I already checked out their room,” Allen Russell said, rolling his eyes. Apparently he wasn’t too impressed with Gloria’s claim. His wife, Lorraine, went over to stand close to his side. “There’s no one there. And even if there had been someone there, I’m sure her shriek scared him off.”

“Are you insinuating I’m crazy?” Gloria demanded, facing Allen, her face flushed and her hands propped on her ample hips. “Because I know what I saw. There was a man standing there, his face pressed against the patio door.”

“There now, no one is calling you crazy,” her husband, Edward soothed, patting her arm.