The Protector (31 page)

“How is she handling it?”

“She says she’s going to worry about it next year.”

“Are you going to wait to worry about it too?”

Rachel gave him a small smile and didn’t answer. Instead she looked around. “You’re making good progress.”

“You want to come shopping with me sometime this next week? The insurance guy took one look around and said it would be cheaper to replace versus repair. He handed me an early Christmas check.”

“Can I replace the blue monstrosity you call a recliner?”

He enjoyed that glimmer of a smile she gave him. “Just because you got stuck in the chair and had to have help getting out…”

“It’s not a very lady friendly chair.”

“You’re welcome to help me find another one.” He waited a beat until it was clear he knew she was hesitating on saying more. “What’s up, Rae?”

She reached into her large bag and drew out a square-wrapped package. “Merry Christmas, Cole.”

He accepted it slowly, caught off guard. “Can I open it now?”

She bobbed her head.

Intrigued, he split the tape. “Your gift will be at your place in the morning by the way.”

“Really?”

“You’ll like it.”

Rachel laughed at his confidence.

He had bought her new luggage. An expensive gift, but it had taken only a brief consideration of her job and schedule to know what she needed was something practical and pretty. He checked with her family to make sure he wouldn’t be stepping on her independent streak. He’d been assured the gift would be well received. He’d know tomorrow if that were true.

Cole lifted the lid on the box. “Rachel.”

“Cassie told me,” she said quietly.

He slowly moved aside the tissue paper. “It has been a very long time since someone so surprised me.” He lifted out an autographed baseball to replace the one that had been cut open. “Where did you—” He was at a loss of words to know how she had found the same autographed baseball.

“My dad would have liked yours. He followed the same team.”

It was one of her few mementos from her own past. And as a gift it was incredibly generous. It was a family heirloom. “Are you sure?”

She smiled. “It’s a baseball, Cole. It’s important enough for me to hold on to for a lot of years, but I had it in a drawer. You obviously had yours out on a shelf to be enjoyed.”

“I’m grateful.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Listen—” he pointed to the kitchen—“would you like to join me? I’ll make sure I find a safe place you can sit down.”

“Another time. I’m heading over to go shopping with Jennifer.”

He tried to bury the disappointment, understanding that higher priority. “Would you please wish her a Merry Christmas for me?”

“I will. I’ll let you get back to painting.”

“Rae—” he tossed the ball and caught it on the way down— “thanks.”

“We should have brought Jack to carry the packages,” Rachel said ruefully as she unloaded the department store sacks from the car trunk and prepared to carry them to her apartment. Snow swirled across the open trunk. The wind cut through her wool coat and even with earmuffs, hat, and gloves she found the weather unbearable.

“I’ve never seen a man more delighted to be able to say he was working than Jack over breakfast when he heard our plans for the day,” Jennifer agreed, picking up the shoe boxes and the sweater box.

Rachel wasn’t so sure Jack was having a good day, not with holiday traffic, snowy roads, and this cold. She would be surprised if he got time to thaw out between dispatches.

Jennifer nudged the trunk closed. “This has been so much fun. I always love to shop with you.”

“I notice it’s primarily my wardrobe getting extended again.”

“Cole will like the peach sweater.”

“Jenny.”

“Don’t look at me like that. You were the one who had me up until 2
A.M.
on the phone while you debated the implications of giving him that baseball.”

“I still don’t know if it was smart. He acted like I’d given away a priceless heirloom or something.” Rachel shivered as she stepped inside the building and the warmth hit her. She held the door for Jennifer and then led the way upstairs.

“After having his place trashed, I suspect having the one item that would be the hardest to replace taken care of first meant a lot.” Jennifer retrieved Rachel’s keys and unlocked the apartment. “The door wreath is beautiful.”

“Thanks. Gage gave it to me.” It was a spectacular Christmas wreath with dried white rosebuds woven into the evergreen and a satin red ribbon wrapping it. “Toss the keys in the bowl,” she suggested to Jennifer. Rachel maneuvered with her packages through the apartment as best she could without knocking items off the tables.

She had been in a rush this morning. She was able to make the bed, had pushed the dark green comforter up, but her numerous pillows were scattered, some on the bed and others on the floor. Two plastic storage tubs were pushed against the wall near the closet. She’d been exchanging her fall lightweight sweaters for the heavier sweaters for the winter.

Rachel lowered the packages onto the bed.

“How’s Gage really doing? Last night he was being his charming self, but it was hard to tell how deep that calm extended.”

“Gage is…well, let’s put it this way. He’s decided to pretend Christmas Day tomorrow doesn’t exist on the calendar. It’s a decent way to get through the day, I suppose.”

Jennifer set her packages down on the floor beside the bed. “Worried about him?”

Ice crystals had formed on the inside of the windowpane. Rachel frowned when she saw it and knew she’d have to check the weather stripping again.

“I’ll always be worried about him. But no, I think Gage turned the corner this last month. His grief has less anger in it.” She tugged open the closet door and pushed clothes around, sorting through her closet to find empty hangers. “Did you hear Jack bought Cassie a kitten?”

Jennifer piled pillows against the headboard and sat down on the bed, leaning against them. “He told me he was going to. I think Jack likes her.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Rachel shot her sister a grin as she opened the first box and folded back the tissue paper to retrieve the new amber blouse with pearl buttons. “The fact it’s the first time he’s ever brought someone to a Christmas family gathering?”

“He cheated and told her to come so I could meet her. I thought that was interesting. I liked her.”

“So do I.”

Jennifer picked up the book on the nightstand. “Rae, I thought you were going to do light reading for the holidays.
Causes of School Violence?”

“I’m trying to get ready for the commission next year.”

“I wish you had passed on that assignment.”

“It’s what I do for a living, Jennifer. Someone has to figure out a way to get around the problem. And you know quite well that I was chosen because I’m an unknown and can manage the volume of material so others can be the face of the committee.”

“It’s a lot of stress.”

“Had I known last spring what my new year would be like I would have graciously declined, but I said yes. I gave my word. I have to do it.” Rachel knew the concern for her was real, knew Cole would probably think the same thing as Jennifer if he learned what she had volunteered for. It was a prestigious assignment. She hoped she had the reserves to deal with the stress.

“If there is anything I can do to help, you’ll ask?”

“Of course.”

Jennifer looked over at Rachel. “Without being intrusive, how bad were the burns on Cassie’s arms?”

“Severe. I don’t think Jack cares,” Rachel replied.

“She does.”

“You noticed that too?”

Jennifer nodded. “It’s more than vanity. She knows the subject often makes people uncomfortable.” Jennifer tugged her wig. “She’s got great empathy for my no-hair status.”

“Jack gets protective around her.”

“I thought it was cute.”

Rachel started folding up the empty sacks. She’d cut tags off the new purchases later. “I thought I’d fix salad and soup for lunch.”

“Sounds wonderful. Want help?”

“Without wanting to say no, at the moment the kitchen only has room for one. I’ll call when it’s ready.”

“Fair enough.” Jennifer tossed the pillow to the floor and stretched out. “How long of a nap did you promise Tom I would take?”

“Twenty minutes.”

Jennifer looked at the clock on the bedside table. “Then wake me in twenty-one because I am not sleeping away my Christmas vacation.”

“Deal. You still want to meet Kate and Lisa for Christmas Eve services?” Rachel was leery about going to church, but she knew it was a big deal for Jennifer and would go along for that reason.

“Absolutely. And Rae?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to beat this cancer. Believe it.”

Rachel was stunned by the unexpected comment, and by the fact Jennifer had obviously clicked into the subject that had been just off center stage all day as they shopped. Rachel was chagrined at the realization that her agreement with Tom to keep an unintrusive eye on Jennifer had not been so subtle after all. “If optimism can affect it, you will.”

“Prayer will,” Jennifer said easily. “Wake me in twenty-one minutes.”

“I’ll do that,” Rachel said quietly. She closed the bedroom door and leaned her head against it.

She wished she felt comfortable calling Cole. Jennifer had an assurance inside that she would be okay. Cole was pointing toward that same assurance, encouraging Rachel to reach out and grasp it too. She needed to have someone to talk with who would listen to what she was thinking and just be a sounding board.

She wanted so desperately to believe. She wiped at the tears. She had to talk to someone. Jack. He was a good sounding board, and he’d keep the conversation private. And better yet, he wouldn’t try to convince her God’s love existed. If anything he’d try to convince her she was wrong.

The reality she feared was Jennifer heading back into the hospital, and Rachel was going to need to find the strength to go along and help her. Not to do so…it wasn’t an option.

A decision had to be made. She couldn’t carry on like this much longer; the weight of what was going on was too heavy. How many people had she seen break under the weight of impending grief? Too many. She couldn’t do that to her family. She had to be strong enough to get through this.

But her sister was dying…and Rachel was dying along with her.

Jack stretched out in Cole’s spare office chair, trying to relax while he could because this shift had the markings of a hard one. They’d been out on four calls already. He tried to find a clear spot to set his soda, couldn’t, and ended up setting it on the floor under his chair. The piles of file folders, books, and printouts had grown into mountains.

The map on the wall tracking the location of the arson fires was new. Jack studied it. There was no clear clockwise or counter-clockwise to the pattern. “He’s going to do something over Christmas.”

Cole used both hands to wrestle a file cabinet drawer back on track. “Very likely.”

“Who’s setting these fires?”

“Not you.” Cole shoved the file cabinet drawer one last time, gave up, and propped his foot on it. “I don’t know, Jack. It’s the same answer as the last five times you landed in that chair to ask me.”