No Home for the Holidays (6 page)

He opened the door to his own room.

~*~

Chloe sat on her bed. She needed to simply disappear and start over—again. The past few days seemed to have drained her of that resolve.

Colton kept promising her she'd be home for Christmas.

Her heart wanted that…so much, but her head knew it was impossible. Being with Colton was putting him in danger as well. The longer she stayed with him, the more she enjoyed having…a friend…a companion…someone to share her life.

Whoa. Getting emotionally involved would be a mistake—with him or with anyone. She wondered if he was this kind, this giving to everyone. Probably. After all, he was a preacher. He'd do this for anyone.

She wasn't special.

But he made her feel special, safe, and protected.

Definitely time to leave.

Chloe gathered up her things. She ran her fingers over the tweed of the satchel. It was the only thing she had left from home. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the door. Should she leave Colton a note? Yes. He deserved an explanation.

She opened the middle drawer of the desk. She picked up a notepad and saw a book. Chloe traced the letters. THE HOLY BIBLE. Tears filled her eyes. “I'm sorry I messed everything up.”

Colton would be upset no matter what she wrote so no reason to write anything. For a short time, she'd been blessed to have him in her life. Now who sounded like a preacher? Placing the notepad on the desk, she picked up her satchel. Her hand reached for the doorknob.

“Hey, Pink. You still awake?” Colton's voice called through the adjoining door.

He really must be psychic.

“I'm awake.” She hoped he didn't hear guilt in her voice.

“I just came across this verse. Made me think of you. Want to hear it?”

Not really. “Sure.”

“It says unless you become like children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

“Yeah, I've heard that one before. Jesus loved the little children.”

“But what do you think it means?” His voice was insistent.

She leaned against the door, suddenly so tired she could barely stand. “I don't know. What do you think it means?”

“It's all about trust and faith. The kind children have. Especially the kind they have at Christmas. Think about it—kids believe in Santa because their parents tell them he exists. Even though it makes no sense, they believe.”

Chloe slid down to the floor with her back against the door. “And you want me to have that kind of faith in you?”

“No—not in me. In God.”

Tears leaked out. She used to believe. Still believed, but she also thought God had lost his patience with her. That she'd used up her quota of mistakes—sins, whatever one wanted to call them.

“You still there, Pink?”

“I'm here and don't call me that.”

“Do me a favor?”

Leaving Colton would be the biggest favor she could give him. “What?”

“Read Luke 15, Pink. Will you do that? For me.”

“Sure.”

“Promise me, Pink. It's important.”

“Fine, Colton. I promise I'll read Luke 15.” And then she would leave.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. I'm walking over to get the Bible.”

“Sweet dreams, Pink. See you in the morning.”

Not likely. “Night, preacher.”

Chloe reached for the Bible. The pages seemed to fall open right where she was to read.

Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.

God always welcomed his children home. No matter what they'd done. No matter…

More tears flowed as she read the sweet words again, as if they'd been written for her.

God did want her.

God still loved her.

God wanted her to come home.

Not only did God still love her, but so did her parents. They would welcome her home as well.

But as she closed the book, reality set in.

Going home would be dangerous for her family—too dangerous.

And if Colton tried to keep his promise to get her home by Christmas, he would be in danger as well.

She refused to let either of those things happen.

Picking up the pen again, she knew what to write. A thank you note to let Colton know that she'd found her way home—to God.

12

Colton dozed on the bed, praying that Chloe would read the words and believe them. God always welcomed His children back home. Always wanted what was best for them.

How about what's best for you? You're too young to be living like a monk. It wasn't your fault.
He pushed the thoughts away.

God understood his decision to forgo a family and a home.

Someone screamed.

He ran to the unlocked doors between the rooms, grabbing his gun on the way.

Chloe had insisted on unlocked doors—just in case. Apparently, just in case had happened.

Chloe was kicking and screaming as John Smith tried to subdue her.

“Get away from her.” Colton aimed the gun at him.

John turned. The gun in his hand was aimed at Chloe. “Preacher, if you don't want her to get hurt, I suggest you put that gun down. Now.”

“Not happening.” Colton held his gun steady. “Did you do your homework on me, John or whatever your name is? No? Well, I am ex-FBI.”

Realization dawned in the guy's eyes.

“That's right. So we both know what will happen here. You're the one who's going to back off. Otherwise, you'll be the one to get shot.”

“Look. You people are crazy. I just want the reward money. After I get it, she's free to run again. What do I care?”

“How'd you find us?”

“I always put two trackers. There's safety in numbers. Once someone finds the first one, they never look for a second.”

~*~

“I keep trying to tell you, Chloe. I'm not going to hurt you. All I want is the reward money.” He waved the gun around. “I just want my money.” The way he held the weapon, he might accidently shoot Colton or her.

“She's not going anywhere.” Colton's voice was confident.

She was terrified.

John Smith pointed the gun at Colton. “Oh, I think she will. You're right I might get shot, but so will you. I don't think Chloe wants that to happen, do you?”

Chloe made a decision. She wouldn't let Colton get hurt. It was enough that she lived with the guilt of Marcy's death. “Don't hurt him. I'll go.” She stood and moved to John Smith's side. “You win.”

Colton shook his head.

“It's OK, Colton. Like he said, he wants the reward money. He won't hurt me. And I'll be home for Christmas. Just the way you promised.”

“Not like this.”

“Like this. It's time for me to go home. And face them. All of them.”

John Smith grabbed Chloe. He smelled of tobacco and sweat. “Too late, preacher. She's made her decision. The right one. I wouldn't have had any problem shooting your boyfriend, Chloe. Toss me your gun, preacher.”

“Chloe. Don't do this.” Colton tossed the gun on the bed.

“Good. Now I won't have to hurt him.” John Smith picked up the weapon.

Chloe gave him a smile, trying to be brave. “I'll be fine, Colton. He said he wouldn't hurt me. I believe him. He won't get my dad's money if he does.”

“Well, at least let her have her satchel. She'll need it.”

John nodded. “I'm a reasonable man, and it's a long trip to California. And a woman is a woman, huh, preacher? They need their girlie things, don't they?”

Colton wouldn't give up this easy.

She jerked away from the blond giant. “I'll get it myself.”

“Chloe, I'll get it for you.”

“No. I can handle this. On my own.”

She brushed past Colton.

He took hold of her hand, his touch warm and reassuring.

Tears filled her eyes.

He leaned in towards her. “Don't do this, Pink.”

She took her hand out of his. “I have to.” She picked up the satchel and purse. As she walked past, she touched his arm. “Just go home. I'll be in touch after this mess is taken care of. I know where to find you.”

“Yeah, preacher, she'll be in touch.” John gave a nasty laugh. “It sounds as if someone has a crush on someone else.”

Chloe glared at John. “Let's get this over with.”

“Yeah, right. You really think I trust you.” He held out his hand. Four white pills. “Take these then we'll leave.”

“I don't do drugs.”

“Think of them as insurance.” He laughed again.

“Don't take them, Chloe. You don't know what they'll do.”

“They'll make you sleep. That's it. I'm not taking a chance on you trying to escape every minute. I gotta do the driving, you know. It's a long way to California.”

“I can help you drive. I said I'm going with you. I won't cause any trouble, I promise.”

“I know you won't. Take them. If you don't I'll find another way to make sure you don't cause any trouble.” He handed her the pills.

“No. Chloe, don't.”

“Shut up, preacher. If she doesn't take them, I'll shoot you.”

Chloe lifted her hand to her mouth and tossed them in, then swallowed. She opened her mouth. “Want to check?”

John Smith peered into her mouth. “Let's go.” Still aiming at Colton, he backed out of the room as Chloe opened the door.

At the SUV, he reached in and pulled out a roll of duct tape. “Just a little more insurance and then we'll be ready to roll.” When he'd finished, he slammed down the back door. “So your Daddy has a reward out for you, too?”

~*~

So your Daddy has a reward out for you, too?

John Smith wasn't taking Chloe home. He was taking her to her death.

The SUV rumbled to life.

Colton pulled his back-up gun from the holster strapped on his leg. Running out of the room, he readied his weapon. He shot at one back tire and then the other. He hit them, but the car kept moving. He ran back through Chloe's room to his own and then sprinted to his own car.

Lights were coming on in some of the rooms. People were coming out of their rooms to check out the situation.

The police would be here soon.

As his car surged forward, the black SUV turn left toward the highway. He wouldn't get too far on two blown tires. But Chloe was in danger. Who knew what the guy would do when Colton caught up with him?

Help me out here, God.
He'd vowed to never take another life. Now he realized that he would if it meant saving Chloe.

The SUV pulled to the side of the road.

Colton did the same.

John Smith stepped out, his gun aimed at the car. He pulled the trigger.

The glass shattered as Colton ducked and rolled to the other side of the car. He opened the door and tumbled to the snow-covered ground. Gravel bit into his shoulder. Kneeling, he steadied himself. He'd only have one chance to stop Smith. Colton stood and fired.

John Smith's eyes widened as he fell to the ground, groaning as blood poured. Colton retrieved all the weapons and punched the button on the driver's door that released the trunk.

Chloe's eyes were closed and her breathing even.

The pills had done their job.

He put her in the back of his own car through a barrage of cursing coming from John. Colton asked him, “Where's your phone?”

“On the passenger seat.”

Colton handed it to the man. “Keep pressure on that wound and call 911. I tried not to hit anything vital. Hopefully, you won't bleed to death before they get here.”

“You better I hope I die.” John uttered an oath. “I'll get you for this, preacher. This ain't over.”

“I'll be praying for you, John Smith, or whoever you are. If I were you, I'd rethink the way you make a living. Did you know the guy you were working for planned to kill her?”

John responded with a two word oath and stared hate at him.

“God loves you.” Colton hoped John would think about God.

But now, it was time to get out of here.

13

Chloe opened her eyes, groggy and confused.

Still in a car.

Sweet-sounding jazz rolled over her.

Had Smith changed cars? His last words came back to her. He wasn't taking her home.

She should have listened to Colton. Trusted him. Now, she'd have to get away on her own. As she prayed, sweet peace descended. She could feel God listening to her again. He'd always been there; she had only to accept it. Believe His promise to never forsake her. Grateful tears filled her eyes.

She looked up. This wasn't the car she'd been in. Her arms and legs were free. What happened to the duct tape? She peeked at the driver. “Colton?”

“Right here, Pink. Glad to see you finally awake.”

Relief poured through her. Thank you, God. “What happened? How'd I get here?”

“You fell asleep and missed the shootout at the OK Corral.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

She sat up and leaned against the seat. Her hand touched Colton's neck. She was so glad to see him. “Did you…did you kill him?”

“He was alive when we left. I gave him the phone so he could call 911.”

“Are we fugitives?”

“I don't think so.”

“Do they know I was…that we were involved in the shooting?”

“Only if John Smith tells them. And I don't think he will.”

“Why not?”