Colton 911: Family Under Fire. Jane Godman

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Название Colton 911: Family Under Fire
Автор произведения Jane Godman
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
Серия
Издательство Современная зарубежная литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474094641



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bedroom.

      “What’s going on? Is she okay?”

      Alyssa was out of bed and pacing the floor with Kennedy in her arms. The dim glow from the night-light next to the bed shone on the baby’s tearstained, red cheeks.

      “I’ve tried everything I can think of to settle her,” Alyssa said. “She started whimpering a little, so I gave her some formula. Her diaper is clean and dry, so that’s not the problem. Her body temperature is fine. She likes being rocked, so I tried that. I think she may be cutting a tooth and her gums are sore.”

      “What can we do about that?” Under Alyssa’s interested gaze, he removed his sleep aids as he spoke. She’d never seen him wired up. The sleep problems had gotten worse since the breakup.

      “We can give her an infant pain reliever, but I didn’t see any in the boxes I unpacked.”

      “There’s a twenty-four-hour drugstore a couple of blocks away. I’ll head over there.”

      “See if they have any teething toys for her to chew on.” Alyssa held up a reddened thumb. “I’m running out of fingers for her to bite.”

      Going back to his own room, he threw a jacket over the sweatpants and T-shirt he’d worn to bed and pulled on his socks and boots. He grabbed his car keys and cell phone, then headed out into the cool night air.

      Cactus Creek was not a party town, and, since it was after midnight, most businesses on Main Street had closed their doors several hours earlier. It was unusual to see anyone around at this time of night, so as he started down the steps, Everett’s attention was caught by a vehicle parked directly opposite from his apartment.

      The single occupant hunkered down in the driver’s seat, woolen beanie hat pulled down low and scarf wrapped around the lower part of the face. Everett had worked enough stakeouts to know what he was looking at. It was amateurish, but unmistakable. There was only one place in plain view. Everett’s apartment was at the top of the steps. The guy was watching his front door.

      Going down the stairs two at a time, he approached the vehicle at a run, cell phone in hand as he snapped a picture of the license plate. Catching sight of him, and anticipating his intention, the driver gunned the engine into life, turning on the main beams at the same time. Caught in the glare of the lights, Everett threw up an arm to shield his eyes.

      As the car’s tires squealed, he had a split second in which to process what was happening. Instead of heading out of the parking lot, the driver had hit the gas and was speeding straight toward him. Diving to one side, Everett managed to roll into the space under the steps just as the car bounced off the curb where he had been standing.

      Like cluster bombs exploding inside his skull, his brain fired off a series of instructions. This guy had signaled his intentions, and they weren’t good. A stakeout was bad enough. Taking the opportunity to try to kill a federal agent took the situation to a whole other level.

      Everett was currently pinned in position. If he moved from his place of security, he risked being mowed down. If he stayed where he was, Alyssa and Kennedy could be in danger.

      Hunkering down in the darkness, he was preparing to call Casey when the car engine started revving up again. Risking a quick glance out at the parking lot, he was in time to see the vehicle make a 180-degree turn before it bumped across a flower bed and screeched out onto the road.

      Uncurling his long legs from their cramped position, Everett exited his hiding place. As he headed toward his car, he made a mental to-do list.

      Get Kennedy her teething meds, send Casey the picture he’d taken of that vehicle…and add some agility training exercises to his workout regime.

      Why was Everett taking so long? As soon as the thought hit, Alyssa groaned out loud. It was starting again. She had been in his company for less than twenty-four hours and already the old anxieties were resurfacing.

      This time, she had to find a way around her fears. Not because they were together. But because of this new commitment. For Kennedy’s sake, she couldn’t freak out every time he was gone. She couldn’t live on a knife edge forever, and she wasn’t prepared to pass on her insecurities to a helpless little girl.

      “There must be a way. Other people do this.” She drew Kennedy closer, and the baby hitched her breath in a tired sob as she tucked her head into Alyssa’s neck. “How about I try to get you to take a sip of cold water while we’re waiting?”

      Although more water dribbled onto Kennedy’s chin than into her mouth, the cool liquid soothed her. By the time Everett returned, her tears had subsided and she was almost asleep with her head on Alyssa’s shoulder.

      “Are you limping?” As soon as the words left her lips, Alyssa wished them unsaid. So much for her vow—made minutes earlier—to overcome her worry. Instead of toughening up, she was coming across as whiny and needy.

      Everett appeared not to notice. “How about we settle this little one, then I’ll tell you all about it?”

      If the fact that there was an “it” didn’t escape her attention, neither did the reassuring smile in his eyes. He was here and, for now, that was enough to make her feel safe and warm.

       It wasn’t enough last time…

      She shrugged away the thought. Everything had changed when Kennedy came along. Maybe she should get that made into a lapel pin?

      The painkiller syrup came with a small, needle-free syringe. Having filled it to the required dose, Alyssa tilted Kennedy’s head and put the syringe into her mouth, aiming for the back corner.

      Everett watched the maneuver with concern. “Won’t she choke when that goes down her throat?”

      “If I pointed it directly down her throat she might gag. But I’m going to release it slowly into the back of her mouth.” Alyssa pressed the stopper gently as she spoke. “It’s no good putting into the front of her mouth. She’d simply push the medicine back out with her tongue.”

      As she released the medicine, Kennedy regarded her with wide, hurt eyes. Clearly, the little girl was questioning the reason behind this breach of baby etiquette. Once she had taken all the painkiller, Alyssa removed the syringe and, as she had anticipated, Kennedy started to cry. Holding the baby close, she rocked her back and forth while crooning an old lullaby her own mom used to sing.

      After a few minutes of tearful protest, Kennedy’s eyelids began to droop and she was soon asleep.

      “Poor little girl.” Alyssa pressed a kiss onto one soft cheek. She looked up, meeting Everett’s gaze with a smile. “Let’s hope she gets a good night’s sleep now.”

      He followed her as she carried the baby to the bedroom and placed her in the crib. She pulled the quilt over Kennedy and Everett leaned closer.

      “It’s hard to believe she’s only been with us a few hours.” There was a husky note in his voice that could have been tiredness. Alyssa turned her head to look at him. In that moment, his expression was an open book. He wasn’t tired.

      Kennedy’s dad had been part of his life, and that emotional connection had never been fully severed, despite the pain Sean had caused him. Love stretched over time and space as if those dimensions didn’t exist. Could he get past the hurt and form a genuine bond with Kennedy for the child’s own sake? If it didn’t happen naturally, Alyssa saw a new role for herself as the person who would need to intervene.

      She pointed to the door. As she entered the living area, she switched on a lamp. The room felt cool and she wrapped her arms around herself. “You said you’d tell me why you are limping.”

      He hesitated, and she knew he was trying to figure out the least painful way to explain things to her. Suddenly, instead of being afraid, she was annoyed. She was unhappy at herself for needing to be handled with care.

      “Just