17

 

Sara hung her coat up and turned to Luke. “Go shower. Then put your wet stuff in the machine and set it going.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave a mock salute and headed up the stairs.

Sara walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Then, for no reason other than because she could, she ran into the dining room and switched on the computer. She downloaded her photos and started going through them. In one photo the lighthouse proved a fabulous background where a rainbow hung bright and clear against the black sky.

These are good. Far better than anything I’ve ever taken.

The washing machine started, and Sara smiled as Luke came in and sat next to her. “They’re lovely. You have a talent for this.”

“Thank you. It’s something I enjoy doing, except in the rain.” A hint of a smile crossed his face.

Sara reached the ones Luke had taken of the shoreline, huts and ramshackle cottages.

He shrugged. “I got snap happy.”

“I imagine they have a history. Pirates, maybe. Or bank robbers, car thieves, arsonists, and bent coppers.”

Luke shook his head at her. “Actually, I thought they could be smugglers’ cottages. This is England, remember. Full of smugglers.”

Sara laughed. “This is Scotland. On the south coast of England, perhaps that stuff happened and maybe still does, but I doubt they’d come this far north.”

“Cynic. Where’s the romance in that? Imagine the fog rolling in, and the false light on the cliffs to guide the ship onto the rocks, and...”

“That’s wreckers, not smugglers.”

“Let me finish. The false light on the cliffs to guide the ship onto the rocks, and then the smugglers grab the loot and hide it in the cottage. Of course, they’d kill anyone who got in their way, or who didn’t pay them enough.”

Sara laughed. “Lovely. Just the sort of people you’re protecting me from.”

“Of course. It’s my job to protect and serve. Speaking of serving, shall I do lunch?”

“I thought for a minute you were going to suggest tennis.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s gone past lunchtime, and it’s almost two. Too late for lunch and too early for tea.”

Luke grinned at her. “So?”

“Just coffee, please, I’m not hungry.”

“You’re eating for three.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “All right, you better go make lunch for four.”

While they were talking, she had narrowed the photos down to two. Making her final choice, she hit print and wandered out to the kitchen. She sat down as the doorbell rang.

Luke headed across the room. “I’ll get it. Stay here.” He vanished, shutting the door behind him.

Sara could hear voices in the hall and footsteps going into the lounge. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the kitchen door.

Luke closed it quickly, his voice leaving no room for debate. “No peeking.”

“All right, I’ll finish doing lunch.” She made a plate of cheese and tomato sandwiches and cut two pieces of fruitcake.

The front door closed, and Luke came back into the kitchen.

“What’s going on out there, Luke?”

Luke grinned as he sat down. “Have a little patience, woman. Eat first.”

“Woman?” Sara asked in mock horror as she put the mugs of coffee on the table. “Woman?”

Luke laughed. “Woman was a term of endearment in our house. Dad used to call Mom ‘woman’ all the time.”

“All right, man.” She paused. “Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it?”

“No, not really. Nice sandwiches.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome. Well, it was your turn to cook.”

“I’d hardly call this cooking.” She rubbed her stomach.

“You all right?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.” She reached for the last sandwich the instant before Luke did.

“For someone who isn’t hungry...” he began.

Sara laughed. “Want to go halves?”

He grinned. “If you’re sure you can spare it. I don’t want to deprive you or the babies.”

“I think I can spare a tiny piece.” She cut the sandwich in half and offered it to him.

Luke reached for it, then leaned forwards and took a bite of it, his lips catching her fingers. Sara held his gaze for a moment, smiled and shook her head. She let go of the sandwich and picked up her own. Her fingers tingled where he’d touched them. She took a bite out of it. This was the first meal she’d enjoyed for a long time.

She finished the sandwich and smiled at him. “So, as I cooked, you get the dishes.”

Luke returned the smile. “I don’t think so. How about we stick them in the sink and leave them a while?”

“That sounds good to me. It’s not often you find a man who not only cooks and cleans, but likes ignoring dishes, too.” Sara picked the dishes and carried them over to the sink. “So who was at the door?”

Luke smiled. “Want to see what it was?”

“No. That’s why I asked.”

Luke moved over to her and covered her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me. I’m a cop.” Luke guided her to the door and led her into the lounge before uncovering her eyes.

Sara gasped. Filling the bay window was a huge pine Christmas tree. “It’s beautiful.” She walked over and touched it. “It’s real. I never had a real tree before.”

Luke chuckled. “Of course it’s real. You like it?”

“I love it. Thank you.” She turned and threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. She’d been so awful to him, and he went and got her a tree.

Luke returned the hug and kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome, Sara. I got a selection of lights and decorations as well. I thought we could decorate it this afternoon.”

“I’d like that a lot. Aunt Mary and I always decorated the tree together.” Sara pulled back, embarrassed at what she’d done. She’d kissed him. Again. What was she thinking? And he kissed her back. Her cheek was aflame where his lips had touched it. She turned around. “All we need is some Christmassy music.”

“That’s in there, too.” Luke pulled out three CD’s and handed them to her. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a few different ones.”

Sara took her time flipping through and reading them, before picking one. Putting it on the stereo, she turned her attention to the box and started to decorate the tree. She and Luke took turns at hanging the ornaments. Once the tree was finished, Sara grabbed the ribbon from the box. “Ceiling next?”

Luke climbed on a chair. “Sure. You can tell me where to go.”

Sara laughed. “It’ll be my pleasure. Have the ribbon going in and out from the center of the room to the sides and back again.”

Luke took the ribbon and started to pin it up under Sara’s guidance. He pushed the first pin into the ceiling and held out his hand for another. As Sara handed it to him, he lost his balance and fell, catching his leg on the edge of the chair.

Sara dropped to his side. “Luke, are you all right?”

Luke gave his leg the once over. His pants were torn and bloody. “I cut this on something.”

“Stay put.” Sara ran to the kitchen and came back in with the first aid kit. “Let me see.” She pulled the torn fabric up, gently cleaned the cut, and put a plaster on it. “There. All fixed, but I’m afraid those trousers might be beyond the healing power of a plaster.”

Luke wrinkled his nose at them. “Ah, don’t worry. It isn’t like they were a new pair or anything.” He raised a hand to his head and rubbed it.

“You all right?”

Luke sat up. “My head hurts some.”

“Let me see.” Sara moved his hand. “You may have a bruise in the morning, but it’s not bleeding. Want something for it?”

Luke winked at her. “If I was a kid, you’d kiss both it and my leg better for me.”

She grinned at him and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not kissing your leg after it bled all over the carpet, but as for your other injuries, where does it hurt?”

Luke moved a hand up to his temple. Sara leaned in and kissed his temple.

“Anywhere else?”

He moved his hand down his cheek. She smiled and leaned in again and kissed his cheek. She raised her eyes to his. “Anywhere else?”

“Here.” He pointed to his nose.

Sara kissed the tip of his nose. “Anywhere else?”

Luke’s finger moved to his lips. Dare she? She leaned forwards, brushing her finger across his lips. Luke raised a hand and placed it behind her head, pulling her close to him. He brushed his lips against hers. He pulled back and gazed at her, his eyes full of tenderness. She smiled, goose bumps rising on her skin at his touch. He pulled her head back to his and kissed her fully.

Closing her eyes, she put her arms around him and kissed him. His lips were soft and tasted of coffee. Her body fitted so perfectly with his, as if they were made for each other. His other hand slid around her back, holding her firmly. He broke for air, the smile on his face fading as he saw her expression.

“What’s wrong, Sara?”

The tears in her eyes stung. He let her go.

Sara reached out for his hand. “I’m fine, I…”

She broke off as Luke’s phone rang. Luke sighed and answered it. “Nemec. Hi, Mary, yes, she is. I’ll get her for you.”

He held the phone out to Sara.

“Hi, Aunt Mary. Yes, they took the splint off for good. Yes, Luke’s stoked about no longer having to carry me up and down the stairs.” Her smile grew as she spoke. “Yes, I called him Luke. Tried Leftenant Luke, but he didn’t like that one. Sure, I’ll tell him. Have fun. Bye.” Sara turned off the phone. “She’s off to a Christmas dinner at the church. She said to tell you, if you poke your tongue out at me for calling you Leftenant Luke, she’ll deal with you next time she sees you.”

“Uh huh. Now where were we?”

Sara glanced at him. Was the moment lost? Probably. “You were up the wall, swinging from the chandeliers.”

Luke got up. “I’ll go change my pants.”

“Trousers,” Sara corrected. “Pants are what you wear under them.”

Luke poked out his tongue. “We call them boxers. These are pants. I’ll be right back.”

“All right.” Sara turned to the tree. It was lovely. The lights sparkled and reflected off the golden baubles hanging from the branches. It was missing something, but she wasn’t sure what.

Luke came back in and climbed up on the chair. He held his hand out for a drawing pin. They had barely finished, amid much laughter, when the doorbell rang.

Sara winked at Luke. “It must be my turn by now. You’ve got it the past three weeks.”

“No way, José.” He pushed her on to the couch. “You’re sitting down. Still mine.”

Sara threw a cushion at him. “My name’s not José.”

Luke tossed it back. “It is now.”

“Brat.” Sara threw it back.

 

****

 

Luke opened the door on the latch.

Carole and Dave stood there.

Luke undid the latch. “Hey, guys. Come in.”

“Hi,” Carole said as Luke shut the door. “We got Chinese.” She held up the takeout bags. “Hope ye don’t mind.”

Luke shook his head. “Not at all. Sara’s in the lounge. We’ve put the tree up.”

“Ye can see it from the street. It’s lovely.” Carole gave the bags to Dave and went into the lounge.

Dave followed Luke into the kitchen. “How’s it going?”

Luke got out the plates. “Really good, actually.”

“That’s good. Want tae know something interesting?”

Luke pulled open the drawer and handed Dave a couple of serving spoons. “What’s that?”

Dave dished up. “I got ahold of the witness protection people this afternoon. They have no record of a Robert Foster or a James Barnes.”

Luke paused as he got out the glasses. “Say what?”

“That’s what I thought. I’m going tae ring them again in the morning and speak tae the officer in charge.”

They carried the plates through.

“Dinner up.” Dave handed a plate and fork to Carole.

Luke handed Sara hers. Putting his down, he opened the bottle of sparking juice. He poured three glasses and paused before doing the fourth. “Sara, you want water or some of this grape juice, hon?”

“Juice, please.” She attacked her chow mien with enthusiasm. “What do you guys want to do later?”

“I need Dave’s help with my book. He volunteered to be my technical expert.”

Carole laughed. “Dave? A technical expert on sci-fi?”

Dave shrugged his shoulders and grimaced. “I ken the difference between a phaser and a communicator. What more do I need?”

Carole shook her head. “I brought a film with me. What would ye have done otherwise, Sara?”

“I was going to start a new picture. Luke took a great photo of a rainbow this morning.”

Carole finished her dinner. “Well, if ye can multi-task, that’s the evening sorted.”

“I’ll bring your easel in here, Sara,” Luke said. “Dave and I can use the dining room.”

She smiled. “Thanks. It’s too awkward for me to lift now.” She pushed herself up. As she did so, something caught her eye. She went across to the window and peered out. “It’s snowing.”

“Snow?” Luke repeated.

“White stuff, remember?” Sara explained helpfully. “Falls from the sky in winter.” She went back to the door, collecting the empty dishes as she went.

“I’ll give ye a hand,” Carole said.

Dave got up and took the dishes from Sara. “Let Luke and I do the dishes. Ye girls watch the film. It’s a chick flick, anyway.”

“All right, thanks.” Sara fetched the printed photo and her pencils while Luke carried her easel and blank canvas for her. When they went back into the lounge, both Carole and Dave were admiring the painting over the fireplace.

“Is this new?” Carole asked.

“Yes.” Luke grinned at Sara. “We put it up yesterday.”

“It’s really good. Makes ye feel like yer there, with the wind in yer hair. The initials are S.D. Do ye ken who he is?”

Luke laughed. “It’s Sara.”

Carole turned to her. “Never. Ye painted this?”

Sara blushed. “Yes.”

“It’s beautiful. So life-like. What’s it called?”

“‘Loneliness.’ It’s a beach in Norfolk.”

Dave peered at the painting. “That figure dwarfed by the dunes. Is that ye?”

“Yeah.”

“So what does the D stand for?”

Sara glanced at Luke. She had slipped up there. Maybe he could think quicker than her and cover it up.

Luke placed his hand on her arm. “Daniels. Sara paints under her maiden name. We should get started on those dishes.”

“All right. Enjoy the film, ladies.”

Sara grinned. “Oh, we will. Enjoy the technical advising.”

The men departed, and Sara curled up on the couch, pulling her easel towards her. She clipped the photo to the top of it and picked up her pencil. Maybe she should do a picture of Luke at some point. Something to remember him by.

 

****

 

After the others left, Luke made Sara cocoa and let her run upstairs to bed. He grinned as she ran back downstairs for something she’d forgotten, probably quite deliberately, and ran back up again. Her child like delight over losing the cast was enthralling and just added to the list of things that attracted him to her. Trying to resist was like fighting a losing battle. He was going under, drowning in love and he knew it.

He locked all the doors and double-checked them before going into the lounge to turn off the tree lights. He crossed the room and flicked off the main light, before going back to the window to pull the curtains.

He’d left them open just enough so the tree was visible from outside, like all the other houses had done. He paused as he gripped the curtains. There was a man standing on the other side of the road with a dog at his heels. He was staring at the house.

Luke pulled the curtains and left the room, heading to the front door. He opened it and checked outside. The man and dog had gone. Apart from Dave and Carole’s prints, the snow was untouched in front of him. No one else had been up the front path since the snow started falling.

Shaking his head, he locked the door and headed upstairs. He paused outside Sara’s room, but the light was off. He hoped he’d not blown it by kissing her.

 

****

 

After breakfast the following day, Sara stood in the lounge with her easel in front of her. She cast a critical eye over what she’d done the previous night. Pleased with it, she turned to find Luke standing right behind her. She gasped. “You made me jump.”

“Sorry. Sara, I—” His phone rang. He rolled his eyes and pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s the boss. I’d better take it. Nemec. Morning, Sir.”

Sara left him to it and went into the kitchen. Grabbing her sketchbook, she sat at the table and started drawing Luke. Caught up in what she was doing, she didn’t hear him come in. It was only when the phone dropped onto the table beside her that she raised her gaze.

His eyes glittered and his lips set in a thin taut line, he appeared to be struggling to keep control.

Her first thought was that she had done something. That was then replaced by the more logical thought it was something to do with the phone call. Still that made it her fault, albeit in a roundabout fashion. “What’s wrong, Luke?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He pointed to the notebook. “What’s that?”

“It’s you.”

Luke scrutinized at it. “My hair’s not that untidy, is it?”

“Sometimes.” She reached out and ran her fingers through it. “It could do with a cut, but it is kind of cute this way. I was wondering, now that I’ve lost the cast, if we could go out and—”

“No.” The sharp response cut her off mid-sentence.

“We need food and some Christmas presents.”

“I’ll order the food over the net like I usually do. And anything else you want or need, as well.”

“Luke, I’m going stir-crazy in here. You’ve kept me cooped up for weeks, except trips to church and the hospital, and they don’t count. For crying out loud, it’s nearly Christmas, and I’m missing it.”

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “I got a tree. What more do you want?”

“I want to be in the shops with the crowds and massive queues. I want to hear the Salvation Army band playing carols. I love this time of year with all the streets decorated and carols in all the shops, and the tinsel and lights.” Sara took a deep breath, lowering her voice. “Jamie hated Christmas. He didn’t even buy me a present last year, never mind take me shopping. He thought my love of Christmas was sissy. I hoped, with your liking it so much, and being a Christian, it’d be different. I want to go shopping with you.”

“Sara, you know very well what protective custody means. Not to mention what happened the last time you went shopping. Or have you forgotten?”

Sara glared at him. “Remind me.”

Luke rammed his point home. “The last time you went shopping, Austin found you. He’s out there, Sara. He found you because there was a leak in the department. If we lose you, the case against him will collapse, and he gets away with Jamie’s murder. Is that what you want?”

“No,” she muttered.

“Then we do this my way. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

Sara stood up, pushing her chair over as she did. “We can’t do anything to jeopardize this case or your career, can we, Leftenant?”

She flounced from the room, and came back with their coats, letting the door slam shut behind her. She knew it wasn’t her he was mad at, but whoever had rung him. She was just there and he needed to vent. But he needed a distraction—as did she.

Luke stood with his hands on his hips next to her now righted chair, his eyes glittering harder than before. “It isn’t my career or this case I’m worried about, Sara. It’s you.”

“Look, we don’t have to be long, a couple of hours at the most.” Sara softened her tone and smiled at him. “You can ask Dave if he wants to come, if you like. Then I’d be doubly protected and you have moral support against a woman who likes to shop.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“I heard every word, Luke. You’re worried about me. I’m safe with you, remember?”

Luke put his coat on and snatched his keys. “You’re a stubborn woman.”

Sara shoved her hands into her pockets. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Yeah, right.” Luke grabbed the phone. “Hey, Dave, you busy? Fancy a shopping trip? Tell me about it. Sure, we’ll pick you up in ten minutes.” He hung up and looked at Sara. “Before we leave I want to pray for protection while we’re out there. Agreed?”

She smiled. That tradition had started soon after they got to Tannoch before they left for church or hospital. “It wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t.”