The Watchman (3 page)

She twisted the straw but didn't drink from it. “As hard as I've tried, I haven't been able to start a life for Cody away from his father. I'm a miserable failure as a mother. Cody has lived a nightmare every day of his life—thanks to me.”

“How did you reach that conclusion?”

“I married his father, didn't I?”

“You can't change the past, Rachel. You can change what comes next. The blame for Cody's abuse lies squarely on Harry London's shoulders. Not yours. Just keep repeating your promise to never again be a victim.”

 



 

Hand Me Down Ranch

We reached the ranch just before midnight. The sheep farm lay in a valley surrounded by mountains and a few scattered pines. Next to a nearby barn stood a water tower and large corral, the landscape covered in snow. A low, rambling structure glowed in the distance like a beacon guiding us to a safe haven.

Emma must have heard the car pull in. The front door opened, and a welcoming smile wreathed her face. She swung the door wide for us to enter.

Cold wind nipped at my face and stung my eyes. With Cody in my arms, I hurried inside, making hasty introductions as we crossed the threshold.

Emma pointed down the hallway. “Take the boy to the third bedroom on the left.”

Rachel followed me to the designated room and tucked Cody into bed. She pulled the covers up around his neck and smoothed damp, blond curls from his brow. I left her there, dashed back to the car, and brought their luggage inside to the entryway.

Emma gave me a hug when I entered the den. “I've made a bed for you. It's too late to drive back to the city tonight.”

I nodded and hustled close to the fire, absorbing the warmth, letting it thaw the chill that numbed my feet and hands.

She turned to Rachel as she entered. “Your room is next to Cody. I lit the pellet stoves earlier. You should be cozy if you leave the doors open a little.”

“We'll be fine.” Rachel crossed the room to stand beside me in front of the crackling blaze, her hands outstretched to the heat.

“Can I get you folks some coffee or tea?” Emma asked. “It'll only take a minute to make.”

Rachel looked utterly undone. The day's events showed, her mouth drawn tight, her posture strained. “Thanks, but none for me. If you don't mind, I'll go to bed.” She started toward the hallway, and then turned back to Emma. “I'm not good at expressing my feelings, but I appreciate...what you're doing...for Cody and me. I hope I can repay you, somehow.”

Emma crossed the room and gave Rachel a long hug. “You don't have to repay me, girl. I'm glad to help. There are blankets in the cedar chest at the foot of the bed if you get cold. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Good night,” Rachel said and headed down the hallway.

I soaked up the heat for a few minutes and then picked up the bags and followed her. She'd moved Cody to her bed. Trust didn't come easy for her.

We met just inside the room. Her eyes misted as she touched my arm. “You're a good man, Noah. One of the very few I've met.”

I console weepy women about as well as I tap dance. I squeezed her hand and withdrew it quickly. She flashed a weak smile and closed the door.

Her brief touch revealed more than I wanted to know about the tragedy of her life—the premature death of her parents, her troubled years with Harry, the ache of disillusionment, and the defensive wall she'd built to ward off pain. The enormity of it staggered me. I leaned against the wall for support and closed my eyes. Adrenalin bubbled in my chest and the horrors of abuse made me gasp for air like a loose vacuum cleaner hose.

After a moment, I inhaled a deep, calming breath, and rejoined Emma. “I'll take you up on that coffee unless you're too tired.”

“You know me. I'm a night owl. I'd like some myself.” She led the way into the kitchen.

The room was large and rustic with a sit-down island in the center. A working kitchen, with brick floors and knotted pine-cabinetry. The large window at the breakfast nook looked out over the distant hills and trees in the daytime. Dark now, reflecting moonlight on the pristine snow.

An attractive widow in her mid-fifties, Emma looked exactly like what she was, a sheep rancher with a big heart and kind face. Slim, with salt-and-pepper gray hair, she moved with easy grace while she fussed over the coffeepot.

I took a seat at the island and filled her in on the circumstances surrounding her guests. “I won't lie to you. This could be dangerous. Rachel's husband is a nasty piece of work. He won't stop until he gets his family back under his control. Feel free to back out of this deal anytime.”

Minutes later, the coffeepot's red light came on, filling the kitchen with its fresh-brewed aroma. Emma poured two large mugs and placed one in front of me.

My stomach growled a reminder that I'd missed dinner. I nodded toward an apple pie on the counter. “If you'll cut me a piece of pie, you'll save a man in the throes of starvation.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in her throat. “Deal. If you really think this London fella is dangerous, I'd best ask Bill to move into the guest house for a while.”

Emma's son was ex-Army Ranger and pastor of a local church. He was also a friend. A good man to have on our side. And Rachel needed all the help she could get.

Emma cut a large wedge of pie, set it in front of me, and then topped-off my coffee. “I can make you a sandwich if you like.”

I shook my head. “This will do just fine.” I took a bite, and the buttery crust melted in my mouth, the apples sweet and tart. “Delicious. Thanks.”

“You're welcome. Sure you don't want that sandwich?”

“I'm sure,” I swallowed a mouthful. “Rachel's husband may try to have me followed, so I won't come back to the ranch unless it's necessary. He'll also have my home and office calls traced, so I'll pick up a throwaway and give you the number when I get back to town. Don't try to call me until I give you the new number.” I wolfed down the last bite. “He'll also pull my phone records, and your number will be there. I'm hoping he won't realize its significance.”

With a peck on her cheek, I said good night and went to my room.

Well after midnight, I stretched out on the feather mattress. The excitement of the past six hours faded as my body melded into the bed's softness. Folding my arms behind my head, I waited for sleep to conquer my overactive mind.

Rachel faced serious danger from her demented husband. The Hand Me Down would be difficult to find unless Harry somehow discovered my relationship with Emma. I had to face reality. With his unlimited funds and infinite resources, eventually Harry would find them if they remained in one place.

I couldn't afford complacency. With that unpleasant certainty, I fell asleep.

 



 

Next morning, Bill Hand sat in the kitchen with a steaming cup to his lips. He placed the mug on the counter, stuck out his hand, and squeezed mine with an iron grip. Bill stood a little over six feet tall. All muscle. His steel-blue eyes twinkled. “You been out lookin' for trouble again, Noah?”

“Don't have to look. I'm a bona fide trouble magnet.” I took a seat at the bar. “Sorry I've put Emma in such a precarious position. This situation with Rachel and Cody happened so fast, I couldn't think of any other place to take them.”

I selected a cup from the countertop and poured coffee from an insulated carafe. “A shelter was out of the question. Her husband's a judge and knew the location. I'll find a permanent place as soon as I can.”

Emma bustled around the refrigerator and pulled out bacon and eggs. “Don't worry about that for now. That's why I asked Bill to stay for a while. This place is certainly big enough. Besides, it gets lonely out here. I'm glad to have the company.”

A chorus of
good mornings
greeted Rachel and Cody when they eased into the kitchen. Cody clutched his mother's hand in a death-grip.

“Rachel, this is Bill Hand, Emma's son.” I turned to Emma and Bill. “And the big guy holding Rachel's hand is Cody.”

Rachel nodded a shy smile at Bill, placed Cody on a stool, and sat beside him.

Warm rays of sunlight filtered through the windows and bathed Rachel's face in a soft glow. The dark shadows under her emerald eyes had vanished overnight. The angry bruise on her cheek remained. She tugged at the sleeve of her sweater in an obvious attempt to cover the black marks on her wrist.

“Hi, Cody, I didn't get a chance to meet you last night.” Emma ruffled Cody's hair. “You folks ready for breakfast?”

The boy gave Emma a wisp of a smile and shied away.

“Let me help. I make great pancakes,” Rachel said. She moved to the counter beside Emma.

“You got yourself a job. I'll fix the eggs and bacon while you rustle up the pancakes.” Emma pulled mix from the pantry and handed it to her houseguest.

Bill turned to Rachel. “Don't suppose you've had time to think about school for Cody?”

Rachel stopped stirring the batter and shook her head. “Not really. My only concern last night was getting away from Hebron. Christmas break starts next week. I'll have to make a decision soon. Enrolling him in public school would run up a flag his father would see.”

“Just FYI, a number of women in my church homeschool their children,” Bill said. “They use the church for things like science and social events. That lets the kids interact with each other. It works well for them.”

Cody glanced at his mother. “Mom, could I do that?”

“We'll talk about it later. It's certainly an option.” Rachel leveled her gaze at me. “I'm not sure how long we'll be here.”

Emma flipped the sizzling bacon and glanced at Bill. “Why don't you and Noah take Cody to see the horses while we finish making breakfast?”

The boy's face brightened like someone lit a candle behind it. “Really?”

Bill smiled down at Cody. “Really. Come on. I'll give you a short tour before we feed you.”

We struggled into our jackets and braced for the cold. Cody ran ahead to the corral.

Bill's smile disappeared, and he lowered his voice. “I didn't want to say anything in front of Mom, but if there's any hint that Rachel's husband will show up here, you'll have to move her and the boy. I can't let Mom's big heart put her in danger.”

I couldn't fault him for his concern. “I hear you. At the first sign of trouble I'll find another safe house.”

Snow crunched underfoot as we caught up with Cody at the paddock next to the stable. Our breaths hung in frosty clouds in the morning air.

Two colts played tag in the field, oblivious to the frigid conditions.

Cody's eyes danced with excitement. “What do they eat? Don't they get cold? Could I ride one? Please?”

“Whoa.” Bill laughed and hefted the boy onto the corral fence “One question at a time, champ. They eat grass, oats, and hay. The weather doesn't bother them too much. God gives them a thick coat in the winter. We'll talk about riding later.”

Bill whistled and the big roan came over to him. Bill reached in his pocket and pulled out a carrot. “Here, give this to him, and watch your fingers.”

The morning chill added a red flush to Cody's cheeks, erasing the former pallor. The ranch could be good for him, a place to enjoy the animals while his mental and physical wounds mended.

Emma stepped out of the kitchen door. “Come on in, fellas. Breakfast is ready.” The door banged shut with a loud crack when she re-entered the house.

Cody jumped, and in the next instant, his arms were around my waist, his face pressed against my side.

I looked away, numb as gall churned in my gut. The judge had done a number on this child. “It's OK, Cody.” I placed my hand on his head. “The noise startled me, too.”

Wind blew snow dust in behind us as we entered the kitchen. The smell of bacon and maple syrup left me feeling better, but not much.

Cody picked up Rachel's iPhone on the counter. He punched a few buttons, thumbs clicking away as he played a video game.

Food was on the table, and we sat down. After Bill said grace, Rachel smiled at her son. “Cody will love it here. He always wanted a pet, but Harry―” She paused. “Cody played with his friend Ethan's dog. Bullet stayed in our yard more than he stayed at home.”

I looked at the phone next to the boy and the hair on my arms prickled. “Cody, did you call anyone this morning?”

He nodded and swallowed a bite of pancake. “I called Ethan to tell him I wouldn't be able to play today. He wanted to come over after school.”

Stupid. I should have asked about cell phones last night.

Rachel's gaze held Cody's. “You used my phone? Did you tell him where you were?”

Cody shook his head. “I used your phone, but I don't know where we are.”

Bill's gaze met mine.

Cody didn't have to know. If Harry traced Rachel's mobile calls, he could track them to the nearest cell tower, and right to Emma's front door.

 

 

 

 

3

 

Somewhere on Highway 80

Later that morning I hurried back to Hebron. Strong winds from Canada carried ominous gray clouds that portended heavy snowfall before the day ended.

I'd confiscated Rachel's cell phone before leaving the valley, in case it had the family map feature that told the location of family members at all times. My brain scrambled for a solution to overcome Cody's cell call. I needed to find a new safe house as soon as possible.

Halfway to Hebron, I pulled into a truck stop hoping a jolt of caffeine would spur some creative thinking. I stomped snow off my shoes, entered the café, and took a seat at the counter. The aroma of fried food and bacon made my decision. I ordered chicken fried steak with all the trimmings. The waitress filled a cup with coffee and gave my order to the cook at the back of the counter.