Military K-9 Unit Christmas: Christmas Escape ; Yuletide Target Page 9

  And speaking of listening. She held her breath. Footsteps. Lots of them. On the porch? Yes!

  “Brace yourself,” Kyle announced. “We’re about to be rammed.”

  Rachel reached for the child, including the K-9 in her embrace. Growls were rumbling, vibrating his chest. “Easy, Stryker. Easy.”

  Bang! The window panes shook. Dust filtered down from the open rafters. Bang!

  “It’s holding,” Kyle shouted.

  “What about...” Rachel stopped herself from mentioning the windows. They weren’t very big but would probably allow a skinny guy like Peter to wriggle through. How many shotgun shells did they have? Would Kyle fire a warning shot if their attackers chose to come at them that way?

  She cast about for a weapon. Anything would do. There was no poker in the fireplace but there was a blackened iron skillet on the woodstove. If she could reach that and place herself for a strike, she might save a shotgun shell.

  Men were stomping around on the narrow porch, arguing and cursing. The moment she overheard one of them say “Window,” she put her plan into motion. Cross to the stove, grab the handle of the pan, scurry to the opposite side of the small window without being seen, raise it over her head and wait.

  In position, she glanced over at Kyle. He was furious. “Move! I can’t shoot with you standing there.”

  Rachel merely shook her head and held out the pan for him to see, then raised it again. Just in time. The glass shattered. Someone ran a gun barrel along the edges to clear them of sharp points. A hat started to pass through the newly made access.

  Every muscle tensing, Rachel forced herself to wait a few moments longer. Almost there. Almost time. Now!

  Thwack! The iron pan glanced off hat and head, ending up at Rachel’s side on the end of her straightened arms. People outside rushed to pull the intruder back and carry him away, all the while shouting and threatening retribution.

  Her heart was pounding so rapidly she could hardly separate the beats. A tremor ran up her arms and raced along her spine, leaving her limbs weak and quivering. She met Kyle’s astonished gaze. “I—I didn’t mean to hit him so hard.”

  “Forget what I said about you being defenseless. And don’t beat yourself up about hurting him. If they get to us they won’t be gentle.”

  Tightening her grip on the handle, she said, “Yeah. That’s what I figured.”

  * * *

  Kyle got Rachel to back off by convincing her that their attackers wouldn’t try the same approach twice. He still couldn’t believe how brave she was. If she judged him in need of her help she was going to provide it, just as she’d promised, whether or not he agreed.

  Watching through the unbroken window, he saw a man approaching. His hands were raised and empty, as if he wanted to surrender. That was too good to be true.

  Kyle spoke aside to Rachel. “Peter’s coming. He looks unarmed but I don’t trust him.”

  “I knew you were smart.”

  A fist pounded on the door. “Hey, in there. I don’t want anybody else to get hurt. Just give me the kid and I’ll leave you alone. I swear.”

  The barrel of the shotgun remained aimed at the closed door. “Don’t answer him, Rachel. Let him wonder.”

  “He should know better than to think I’d ever give up Natalie to him.”

  “Exactly. He’s probably trying to divert our attention while his buddies do something else.”

  “What?”

  “Beats me. I suppose we’ll find out. Stay alert.”

  “Are those the only two windows?”

  “Yes.” As he scanned the side and rear walls an unusual odor caught his attention. He sniffed, then checked out Stryker. Ears perked, the three-legged K-9 was waving his head back and forth, making use of all his senses.

  Apparently Rachel was, too, because she asked, “Do you smell smoke?”

  “Yeah. But I don’t see anything yet.”

  She was on the move. “Back here. Look! See it seeping between the logs?”

  He certainly did. Soon it would be impossible to breathe inside, yet if they ventured out, Peter and his cohorts would grab Natalie. The situation was untenable. They couldn’t hope to triumph without better weapons.

  “I’m not giving up,” Kyle declared. “If it gets too bad in here, I’ll run out the front shooting so you can slip away with Natalie and Stryker.”

  “What good will that do? They’ll just mow you down and come after us.”

  “It’ll buy you some time.”

  “And cost you your life. No way.”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. How about letting them in and taking them on right here? It’s cramped but we’d have better control. And Stryker can defend Natalie.”

  “You mean because they won’t be able to sneak behind him. I get it.” Kyle had kept the phone connection open. Now he pressed the cell to his ear rather than broadcast their plans. “Security, what’s the ETA on that chopper?” His concerned gaze locked with Rachel’s and he nodded soberly. “Copy. The sooner the better.”

  An unasked question lay between them. Kyle led Rachel away from the smoky wall. Stryker was on his feet, standing guard over Natalie while she hugged his ruff. “They’re in the air,” he told them quietly. “All we need is another five minutes or so. Stay put.”

  He saw unshed tears in Rachel’s eyes as she bent to whisper to her niece. He had to get them out of this somehow. Even if it did cost him his life.

  * * *

  Flames licked up the inside of the logs at the base of the rear wall, leaving wispy fingers of soot. A layer of smoke filled the top half of the room and was slowly dropping lower. Rachel remembered the juice Kyle had mentioned and gathered up an armload of cans to pour over the visible fire. It did seem to help a little. The sound of the battering ram echoed again. Her head ached, her eyes stung and she started to cough. A second trip for more juice took her breath away. They were almost out of options. Almost done. Like it or not, Kyle was going to have to open the door and let in more air. And their enemies. Her duty, then, would be to defend the little girl.

  Looking to Kyle and seeing him approaching the door with his shotgun raised, she held her breath. It was getting hard to see, hard to hear, hard to keep the faith.

  He reached for the latch, released it and stepped back. In seconds the door burst open and four thugs rushed him. He got off one good shot before they plowed him down. Rachel stood between the child and the melee until one of the men came closer. Then she knocked him flat with her iron frying pan.

  Men were shouting. Stryker was barking. The fire, fed by more oxygen, began to crackle and climb the wall. Rachel felt her pulse thrumming, the whoosh in her ears filling the cabin.

  Wait! That wasn’t her heartbeat; that was the sound of helicopter blades. Help was here!

  Anticipation renewed her strength. She covered her head and shoulders with the blanket, scooped up Natalie and ran. By bending over she was able to avoid the thickest smoke and make it to the door. So did Stryker.

  The blanket was yanked off her from behind. Peter yelled. Natalie screamed. Stryker launched himself with his powerful hind legs and sank his teeth into their pursuer’s shoulder, falling when Peter did but holding on as he’d been trained.

  Men and women in full battle dress were rappelling down from a hovering chopper with their K-9 partners. The first pair passed her and burst into the cabin. The second stopped long enough to ask if she and Natalie were okay before joining the charge.

  One of the later arrivals gave Stryker the release command and praised him. Rachel didn’t care that Peter was bleeding from the bite. It was Kyle she wanted to see. As soon as Stryker hobbled up to her, she ordered him to guard Natalie and ran back toward the smoky cabin.

  A simple prayer kept echoing in her thoughts. Please, God, let Kyle be all rig
ht. Please, please, please.

  An airman guarding the space in front of the porch tried to stop her. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t come any closer.”

  “It’ll take more than one air-force cop to stop me,” she countered.

  From behind him came a familiar chuckle. “Better let her by, Sergeant. She swings a mean frying pan.”

  Rachel had never heard a more welcome sound. “Kyle! I was afraid...” Her voice trailed off as she threw herself at him, wrapped her arms around his waist and held tight. Tears of relief fell freely. At this moment she didn’t care who was watching or who might report them. All that mattered was Kyle. He was alive. And he was holding her as if he loved her as much as she loved him. More words could wait. They’d survived and so had the rest of their family: Natalie and Stryker.

  Heart overflowing with thanks for deliverance, she clung to the man she adored and let the world go on spinning without further concern. Judging by the way he was embracing her and raining kisses down on the top of her head, Kyle was okay with everything, too. Very okay.

  Nevertheless, she needed to hear the words so she took the lead. “I love you, Kyle.”

  To Rachel’s delight he grinned, his eyes filling with emotion, and echoed, “I love you, too.”

  That was enough for Rachel. For now. And thank God, literally, they would have plenty of time to say a lot more in the future.

  EPILOGUE

  The annual Christmas party held at the K-9 unit headquarters included several special guests. General Hall was there to award an official commendation to Stryker for his exemplary work in the field. The proud K-9 accepted his medal on four legs, one of them a custom-made prosthesis. Although it was Kyle Roark who paraded the dog up to the general, little Natalie accompanied them and carefully explained to all present what a hero her new best friend was. Applause rocked the building.

  Rachel was so happy and proud she could hardly speak. If someone had told her a few weeks ago what was going to happen in her life, she wouldn’t have believed it. God had smoothed out the impassable road and was continuing to do so.

  When General Hall followed Kyle, Natalie and Stryker back to the table where Rachel waited, he was all smiles. She mirrored his grin and swiped away a few happy tears as she stood tall and saluted. “Thank you, sir. Thank you for everything.”

  Hall nodded. “As you were. I’d say it was my pleasure if I hadn’t had to pull so many strings to keep you out of trouble. You and the doc didn’t make my job any easier.”

  “You went beyond the call of duty when you got Peter to sign over custody of my niece,” Rachel said. “I can’t believe he agreed.”

  “I can be very persuasive when I have to be,” the general said.

  Kyle laughed nervously. “I hope the same goes for me.” He dropped to one knee and took Rachel’s hand. “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” Her eyes jumped to the general, then back to Kyle. “But, how can we? I can’t marry my boss without getting us both in trouble, especially you.”

  “Don’t worry. My enlistment is up soon and I’m planning to resume private practice. If you want to stay in the air force we’ll just live off the base and you can commute.”

  So happy she could hardly believe it, Rachel leaned on Kyle’s shoulder and sighed. “Okay, but are you sure? I know you love the air force as much as I do.”

  “I rejoined because I was running away from life,” he said. “I had to have God’s help forgiving myself and finding a way to move on.”

  “Sometimes we all do.” She snuggled closer. “I wonder if I’ll ever be able to forgive Peter.”

  “He did do two good things,” Kyle reminded her. “He brought us together and gave us our first daughter.”

  Rachel knew she was blushing. “First?”

  “God willing.” Kyle pulled her into his arms and kissed her under the mistletoe. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

  Thankful beyond her wildest dreams, she smiled up at him and said, “It certainly is.”

  * * *

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003

  Dear Reader,

  Memories can cheer us or sadden us, as happened with Rachel and Kyle. Facts don’t change but our perception of them can, especially if we accept the past and leave it behind. We may not have control over the acts of others, yet the way we perceive people and events can have a huge effect on us.

  Rachel had been abused. She could have withdrawn from life or perhaps repeated the same mistakes. Her faith in God and reliance on Jesus for strength and wisdom helped her break free.

  Kyle felt robbed of happiness. He could have stayed bitter, dwelling on his losses, and missed seeing the good right in front of him. Because he trusted God and looked for His providence, he was able to open his heart and love again.

  Moving forward is not simple. Sometimes the change seems to take forever. I don’t have all the answers but my heavenly Father does. I pray you will seek and find the peace He offers.

  Blessings,

  Valerie Hansen

  YULETIDE TARGET

  Laura Scott

  This book is dedicated to Vicki Lynn Christman and Sally Nowak, two wonderful women who love to read Love Inspired Suspense books. And of course, to their beloved Sophie.

  Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.

  —1 John 4:7

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  DEAR READER

  ONE

  Senior Airman Jacey Burke felt vulnerable without her K-9 companion, a Belgian Malinois named Greta, as she walked across Canyon Air Force Base toward her apartment. Shivering in the cold December air, she was grateful the darkness was relieved by the string of Christmas lights shimmering merrily up and down Canyon Boulevard.

  The back of her neck tingled with awareness and she knew someone was once again watching her.

  Curling her fingers around the panic alarm attached to her key ring and nestled in the palm of her hand, she did her best to act nonchalant. In lieu of a weapon, which dog trainers weren’t permitted to carry, the panic alarm was the only way she had to protect herself. That and Greta, but unfortunately, rules dictated she kennel her K-9 partner at night.

  Waiting at the corner of Canyon and Webster Avenue for the traffic to ease, she resisted the urge to glance back over her shoulder. So far, she hadn’t caught anyone watching.

  But that didn’t mean someone wasn’t back there, somewhere.

  A large box truck rumbled down Canyon Boulevard, coming in from the south side of the base. As it approached the intersection, she wrinkled her nose at the rank odor of stale cigarette smoke and sensed someone behind her, a fraction of a second before a strong hand shoved her hard in the center of her back. With a muffled oomph, she stumbled forward, directly into the path of the oncoming vehicle.

  Her heart lodged in her throat, her chest tightened, making it impossible to scream. It seemed like everything happened in slow motion; her arms pinwheeled as her keys flew from her fingers.

  Then her hands slapped hard against the smooth surface of the box truck. Pain rippled up her arms. The force of the blow caused her to spin around like a top. The world tilted dizzyingly before she hit the asphalt with an ungainly thud. She felt the wind against her face as the truck rumbled past, missing her by less than an inch.

  Dimly aware of the screeching sound of brea
ks and the scent of burning rubber, she felt pain reverberate through her body as she lay on the ground, trying to understand what had happened.

  “Are you all right?” a deep male voice asked.

  She lifted her head to peer up at the man who’d come to her aid, instinctively wary. The man leaning over her looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. She blinked, wondering how hard she’d hit her head.

  “Jacey Burke?” The man knelt beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t move—I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “No, please, don’t...” she tried to protest, but it was too late. The man who’d come to her aid had already made the call.

  “Did you trip and fall?” His gaze raked over her, as if assessing for blood.

  “No.” Ignoring his hand on her shoulder, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, wincing at the aches and pains radiating from her hands, arms and knees.

  She knew it could have been far worse.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she scanned the area. “Do you see my keys?”

  “Here.” He pushed them into her hand.

  Fat lot of good her panic alarm had done, she thought with a wry grimace. At least it hadn’t shattered to bits.

  “Jacey, please. Don’t move until the ambulance arrives.”

  The way he kept calling her by her first name bothered her. She stared through the dim light at his handsome, chiseled features and then belatedly placed him in her memory. “Sean? Sean Morris?”

  He smiled and nodded. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

  “Ten years,” she agreed, her mind whirling. She and Sean had attended the same high school back in Branson, Missouri. Sean was a year older, the same age as her brother, Jake.