Holiday Defenders: Mission: Christmas Rescue / Special Ops Christmas / Homefront Holiday Hero. Debby Giusti

but he’s got our back, and that’s what we both need.”

      Glancing at the sleeping children, he added, “There’s a third sleeping bag. Close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

      “What about you?”

      “I’ll keep watch.”

      “Burl didn’t think anything would happen until later.”

      “We can’t be sure, and I won’t take any chances.”

      “I can sleep with Joey. You take the other sleeping bag.”

      He held up his hand, palm out. “I’m fine. Besides, I want to go back out there to ensure our tracks are covered with snow.”

      Noticing the strained look on her face, he stepped closer and took her hand. “Get some sleep, Lizzie. We don’t know what will happen when morning comes.”

      “But I’m worried about you and your health. The wound to your side must have been serious or you wouldn’t be on medical leave.”

      “I’m healing. At least that’s what the doctors tell me.”

      “Then humor me and take it easy for a change.”

      “When you and the children are safe, that’s when I’ll be able to relax.”

      He didn’t stay to listen to her argue. Instead, he walked toward the entrance of the cave, needing fresh air to clear his mind and get him back on track.

      After his mission to keep her safe ended, then he’d be able to think of other things. Other things like how badly he wanted to kiss Lizzie.

       NINE

      As the rising sun cast a pink glow across the horizon, Nick raised binoculars to his eyes and studied the surrounding terrain. The snow had stopped falling, and a surreal stillness had settled over the mountain.

      He breathed in the cold morning air, appreciating the beams of sunlight that brightened the day and his mood. Last night, he’d anticipated trouble. This morning, he felt upbeat and encouraged. Maybe they’d eluded the killers, after all.

      Nick checked his watch—7:00 a.m. Over the past few hours, he’d thought about Jeff and what had happened in Afghanistan. Needing closure, he pulled out his cell, inserted the battery and found the number in his phone log—a number he never thought he would call again. He tapped in the digits and waited for Mr. Santori to answer.

      “It’s Captain Nick Fontaine, sir. Jeff’s friend. We were together in Afghanistan. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

      “Not at all. I’m an early riser. I’m glad you called, Nick. I need to apologize.”

      “How’s that, sir?”

      “For the way I treated you. I was grieving and not thinking straight at the funeral, which I hope you can understand. Jeff was my only child. He...” Mr. Santori’s voice faltered. “He was my life.”

      “Jeff was an outstanding solider and a great friend, sir.”

      “And the best son a man could have. I miss him, and for that reason, I struck out at the army, and I’m afraid you got my wrath, as well. I talked to Jeff’s wife. She helped me see the truth.”

      “The truth, sir?”

      “That you only wanted to protect Jeff. You traded your own vest, the new model, for his older one, never realizing the new vest was substandard.”

      For a second, Nick didn’t know how to reply. How could the man be so forgiving? Nick’s intent back on that awful night didn’t matter—what mattered was that his actions were the reason Jeff hadn’t been protected. Uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken, Nick tried to turn it to the reason why he’d called.

      “I believe the problem was with the ceramic plate inserts, sir. Some of them failed. The vests were made by Stratford and Castings.”

      “They’re an East Coast company?”

      “Yes, sir. Their main plant is outside Baltimore. With your connections, I hoped you’d be able to determine if they made the ceramic plate inserts, as well, sir.”

      Mr. Santori hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was thick with emotion. “Jeff was a hero. He died protecting our country.”

      “You’re right, sir. Your son was a hero. Focus on that, and forget anything that brings pain.”

      “The pain comes from knowing our soldiers are fighting with vests that don’t offer enough protection. I’ll contact a friend in Congress and pass on what you told me.”

      “Thank you, Mr. Santori.”

      “Please accept my apology. Men like you are few and far between, Nick. You chose to sacrifice your own well-being for my son’s safety. I will be forever grateful.”

      “I was just doing my job. I wish I could have done more.”

      Mr. Santori’s involvement might bring the substandard vests with the faulty plates to the attention of the powers that be. Hopefully, before more soldiers were injured.

      He was pleased with Mr. Santori’s promise to help, but still bewildered by the rest of the call. Did he really believe that Nick had done the right thing, even though the results had been so unexpectedly tragic? Others had tried to reassure Nick—his commanding officer, the men in his unit, even Jeff’s wife—but he hadn’t wanted to listen. Mr. Santori’s anger at the funeral had only bolstered his opinion that he was to blame for making the wrong choice.

      He didn’t know what to do with Mr. Santori’s apology, or his explanation that his words had come from his grief rather than a genuine belief of wrongdoing on Nick’s part. He could definitely relate to the anger and pain Jeff’s dad had described. Nick had felt them himself at losing his friend. Had he allowed his own self-chastisement to get out of hand, to build into a weight of guilt he wasn’t meant to carry?

      Mr. Santori had forgiven him. Was it possible for Nick to forgive himself?

      * * *

      Lizzie woke to find Nick gone. She crawled from the sleeping bag, careful not to wake Joey. The coolness of the cave and the cloying scent of the musky earth surrounded her. Wanting to ensure Nick was okay, she headed to the entrance and blinked at the bright sunlight as she stepped into the clearing outside.

      The beauty of the new-fallen snow and the sparse landscape of pines and jagged rock greeted her. No wonder Nick loved the mountain.

      “Lizzie.”

      At the sound of his voice, relief swept over her.

      “You’re up early,” he said from a rock perch to her right.

      “And from the looks of the rolled-up sleeping bag, you didn’t rest at all.”

      “I’ve been checking the valley.” He held up the binoculars in his hand. “Everything looks calm this morning. They’ll probably wait until nightfall before they return.”

      “But you expect them to come back?”

      “I’m sure they’re still looking for whatever it was they wanted to find. Now that it’s daylight, let’s check Zack’s files again. We should have a few hours of battery life left on his laptop.”

      “The children will sleep for a bit longer. They’ll be hungry when they wake.”

      “I’ve got a small camp stove we can light. There’s enough draft in the cave and it’s large enough that we don’t have to worry about fumes. I’ll boil water for coffee and make something hot for the children. Instant oatmeal sound okay?”

      “Perfect.”

      After a quick