The Defenders

OPERATION: PROTECT FAMILY

A scared widow and her defenseless son have former marine Thad Pearson on red alert. Someone is systematically wrecking Lindy Southerland’s life. First her house. Then her bank account. And unless the thug gets what he wants, her child will be targeted next. The woman jumps at every shadow, but refuses to go to the police. Why? With Thad’s every protective instinct in overdrive, he guards Lindy and her son as if they’re his own family. But keeping his scarred heart safe proves his toughest assignment yet. And leads him straight into a mastermind’s deadly trap.

“Who would want to hurt you?”

When Lindy whirled and gawked at him, Thad was certain he’d asked the right question. “What do you mean, hurt me?”

“Just what I said. This is no computer mix-up. It’s deliberate. Somebody wants you broke and they’ve just about succeeded in making that happen. What I need to know is, why? Who’s that mad at you, Lindy?”

“Nobody.” She leaned her elbows on her knees and cupped her face in her hands.

“Okay,” he drawled, choosing his words carefully, “then who might still have it in for your late husband?”

Her head snapped up. Her jaw gaped. It took several long seconds for her to regain her composure and in that short space of time Thad saw a myriad of conflicting emotions.

“You don’t have to tell me a thing,” Thad said. “But you should confide in someone, preferably somebody in law enforcement. You do see that, don’t you?”

She pulled her jacket tighter. “I...can’t.”

He had to find out why.

VALERIE HANSEN

was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. In the years that followed, she worked with young children, both in church and secular environments. She also raised a family of her own and played foster mother to a wide assortment of furred and feathered critters.

Married to her high school sweetheart, she now lives in an old farmhouse she and her husband renovated with their own hands. She loves to hike the wooded hills behind the house and reflect on the marvelous turn her life has taken. Not only is she privileged to reside among the loving, accepting folks in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark mountains of Arkansas, she also gets to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for all of the Love Inspired Books lines.

Life doesn’t get much better than that!

Standing Guard

Valerie Hansen

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

—Psalms 23:4

I wish I could honor all the people, past and present, who have brought me to the place in my life, and in my faith, where I’m able to write these stories. There would not be room for all those names if I took up pages and pages, so I’ll simply say a heartfelt “Thank you” to friends and family.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

ONE

“Mama? Mama?”

The little voice was barely audible, yet it was enough to reach into Lindy Southerland’s subconscious and rouse her from a troubled sleep.

She sat up in bed, raked her long, reddish-gold hair back with her fingers and strained to listen. Could she have imagined hearing Danny calling?

Suddenly, something hit the floor somewhere in the otherwise silent house. The thud was muted but unmistakable. Had her only child fallen out of bed?

“Mama?”

Danny’s high-pitched plea was tinged with anxiety. “Coming, honey,” she called. She hadn’t imagined hearing it the first time. Poor little guy sounded scared. Again. No wonder. Neither of them had slept well since they’d seen Ben...

Banishing the memories of her family’s kidnapping and her husband’s murder that continued to haunt her, Lindy threw back her blankets, stood to slip into a warm robe and belted it, while exiting her room.

How she hated the night. Her irrational fears had increased in the six months since she’d been tragically widowed and she didn’t know how to fight back. Or how to help her seven-year-old son.

She took a settling breath and mustered her courage. Danny needed her. That was all that mattered.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, trying to fool herself by pretending she was composed and unruffled. “I’m okay. Danny’s okay. We’re fine now.”

But she wasn’t fine. And her little boy wasn’t fine, either. They’d been through too much, seen too much, suffered too much.

“I’m coming, honey,” she repeated. “Mama’s coming.”

Trembling inside, she padded barefoot down the second floor hallway. Danny’s open door was illuminated by one of the tiny night-lights she had placed throughout the house after her son had begged for them. Not that she blamed him. Their world seemed far less gloomy and intimidating when it wasn’t filled with darkness.

Lindy expected to spot his tousled head on the pillow but the blankets were too bunched.

She tiptoed closer.

Reached for the edge of the covers.

“Mama!”

Lindy whirled in the direction of the distant echo. He sounded terrified!

Without pausing to think, she physically answered the child’s summons, her feet slapping the cold, hardwood floor, the hem of her robe fluttering behind her as she bounded down the stairs as fast as she could without falling.

She paused at the bottom. “Danny? Where are you?”

All she could hear was his whimpering nearby. Had he been sleepwalking and awakened somewhere other than his bed? That was most likely the case. It had happened before. The pediatrician had assured her it was probably just a phase the child was going through but that didn’t keep Lindy from hurting for her confused little boy.

“Danny?” Still on the trail of his soft sobbing, she dashed past the entrance to the ultramodern kitchen.

What she glimpsed in her peripheral vision took a second to register. Although momentum had already carried her well beyond the doorway, she suddenly realized she’d seen movement. Menace.

A huge, dark shape jerked and shifted as she darted past.

Lindy almost faltered. If not for the continuing sounds of her child’s weeping she might have bolted, run for her life. But she could not think only of herself. She had to find Danny.

She rounded the corner into the living room and stopped. Held her breath. Cast around with her eyes and saw no one. Nothing. Where was he? His last plea had definitely come from this direction but there was no sign of him now.

The sound of childish crying had ceased. All she could hear now was muttered cursing and multiple, heavy footsteps behind her. There had to be at least two prowlers, maybe more, and she had nowhere else to go. She was cornered!

The high back of the brown tweed sofa caught her eye. It wasn’t much but it was the only object in the room big enough to provide an adequate hiding place. She prayed Danny was safe, well hidden.

Lindy raced for cover, turned sideways, edged behind the bulky piece of furniture and then froze momentarily, straining to listen, to better assess her situation.

A shout of, “Get her,” made the fine hairs on her arms prickle more than the icy February weather outside.

“Why me?” another male voice replied. “You’re the clumsy one. We could of gotten in and out without a problem if you hadn’t dropped that stuff.”

“Shut up and do as you’re told. I’m almost done.”

Lindy nearly gasped aloud when something cold touched her ankle.

“Mama?”

She fell to her knees, opened her arms and pulled the thin figure closer. “Danny!” His name was little more than a hint on her breath.

“Mama, I...”

“Hush.” Lindy gathered his shivering body closer. “Don’t talk.”

A nod told her that he understood. Satisfied, she grasped his shoulders and held him so they were eye to eye. Terror painted his shadowy expression so vividly Lindy could hardly bear to look.

“Shush,” she mouthed, directing the boy’s attention beyond their hiding place with nothing more than rapid eye movement. They could hear at least one person drawing nearer. Once the footfalls reached the carpeted living room, however, the noise was muted.

They heard that prowler pause and yell to his partner. “I don’t see ’em in here.”

Lindy pulled closer her quivering child and held tight. Was it possible this man was too dumb to think of looking behind the couch? Could anyone be that dense?

A long shadow flowed across the floor and crept up the wall behind her. He might be slow-witted but he was coming closer just the same. Should they stay there like sitting ducks or make a run for it?

Was there a chance they could get to the front door, unlock it and flee before he overtook them? She doubted it. Besides, it was freezing outside and Danny was wearing only light flannel pajamas.

“I’m done in here,” the more distant prowler shouted. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“You sure? What if she saw us?” The bulky shadow shifted and shortened slightly, as if the man might be moving away.

“What do you care? You know what happens to witnesses who get in our way.”

The man closest to Lindy laughed hoarsely, making her skin crawl. She bit her lip to stifle the urge to scream.

“Yeah,” he said, projecting his voice as if making an announcement. “No cops, lady. You got that? You rat to the police and we’ll be back. Next time, you and your brat won’t be as lucky as you were when good old Ben got what was coming to him.”

He was still snorting and chuckling as the sound of his morbid attempt at humor faded away.

Lindy slumped down, pulled Danny into her lap and just sat there, rocking him and weeping silent tears while she wondered what to do next. She knew she should call the sheriff and report the break-in. That’s what a normal person would do.

But she wasn’t a normal person, she was the widow of Ben Southerland. And Danny was his son. Some of the higher-ups in the criminal organization that had abducted her and Danny, and had cost Ben his life when he’d tried to save them, had evaded capture.

The police had assured her that those kinds of white-collar crooks would have no further interest in her family.

Lindy had wanted desperately to trust their opinion and had almost convinced herself they were right—until tonight.

* * *

Thad Pearson wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on the women’s conversation. He was simply standing in line several places behind them while waiting to order his fast food lunch at Hickory Station before returning to work at Pearson Products. The fact that one of them was Samantha Rochard Waltham, a former nemesis of his in regard to the permanent placement of his brother’s orphaned children, made it hard to ignore what was being said.

“Prowlers? Really? I can’t believe you didn’t phone the police last night,” Samantha told her companion.

When the other woman shook her head, her reddish-blond hair swung in a silky cascade that partially hid her cheeks from view. Although her voice was softer, Thad was able to hear her reply.

“I didn’t find anything missing. It was no big deal.”

One underlying sense grabbed Thad and refused to let go. Fear. An unmistakable tinge of tension and dread. She might choose to claim that the event she was discussing was no big deal but her body language said otherwise.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t report a break-in, Lindy,” Samantha argued, sounding as if she were a parent lecturing a foolish child.

Thad’s brow creased. Lindy? That name was unusual enough to ring a bell but he couldn’t quite place where he’d heard it.

When the young woman lifted her chin and he could see her profile more clearly he was immediately struck by her natural beauty. And by a deepening sense that she was terribly vulnerable, although if anyone had asked him why he felt that way, he’d have been at a loss to explain.

Her voice rose. “I don’t intend to make waves and take a chance on losing custody of my son again. You, of all people, should understand.”

Ah, so that was her problem, Thad mused. He could definitely identify. He knew Samantha had only been doing her job as a volunteer for CASA, Court-Appointed Special Advocates for children, when she had recommended that his late brother’s kids be adopted by outsiders, but he was still struggling to accept it.

“Everything worked out fine the last time we went to court,” Samantha reminded her companion. “You can trust the police. You’ll have to learn to do that, if and when you apply to become a CASA volunteer yourself, like you said you might.”

“I trust you more. That’s why I asked you to meet me here. I wanted you to know what happened. Just in case. You’re not assigned to look out for Danny anymore so there’s no conflict of interest. Right?”

“This has nothing to do with what happened in the past. I’m your friend. And I’m telling you to use your head. Make a police report. Let the pros handle it.”

Thad remained silent as Lindy paid for her food, turned and started to walk away without waiting for her outspoken friend to follow.

He continued to observe her wending her way through the crowd to a nearby booth. Clearly, she had problems. Perhaps serious ones. While her personal life was none of his business, he nevertheless felt concerned. It didn’t matter that such feelings made no sense. He was used to following his instincts. Doing so had kept him alive when he was overseas and it was a part of his character he nurtured.

The woman called Lindy never looked back. Never seemed to notice that she had attracted his attention.

Thad paused long enough to say a quick, silent prayer for her before stepping up to the counter, smiling at the clerk and placing his own order.

* * *

Lindy sat back in the booth and folded her arms. She was feeling a chill in spite of her designer jeans, sweater and embroidered denim jacket. “You might as well give it a rest, Sam. I’m not changing my mind.”

“Then at least let me tell John.”

“Not on your life. Your husband’s too good a cop. There’s no way he’d keep his mouth shut, not even if you asked him to. The guys who broke in were probably just dumb kids looking for drug or booze money.”

“The way you described them, they didn’t sound like typical juvenile delinquents.”

“They grow ’em big around here. I think it’s the Ozark water,” Lindy said, managing to smile past her burgeoning feelings of guilt over the deception she felt was so necessary. If she once mentioned the prowlers’ specific threats, she was certain Sam would feel compelled to inform her husband—and that must not happen.

“Um. Speaking of kids, how’s Danny holding up?” Samantha asked.

“He’s okay.”

“Good. You need to start taking him to church, you know.”

“What brought that on? Are you worried that I’m not being a good enough mother?”

“Of course not. It’s time Danny made some new, happy memories, that’s all.” Sam chuckled wryly. “You won’t believe who got roped in as Sunday school teacher for the second and third grade boys’ class at Serenity Chapel.”

“No clue.” Lindy picked up a narrow slice of steaming veggie pizza, inhaling the enticing aroma before taking a cautious bite.

“Thad Pearson. Didn’t you notice him in line behind us when we ordered?”

“You mean the guy who took over Pearson Products?”

“Uh-huh. Have you met?”

“Not exactly. I saw him from a distance when I dropped off my résumé. He’s certainly not the kind of person I’d picture as a Sunday school teacher.”

“Me, either. But he does an amazing job with the kids. It’s too bad he couldn’t adopt his brother’s orphans.”

“Why not?” Lindy took another bite.

“PTSD. He got a medical discharge from the marines because of post-traumatic stress. Unfortunately, that meant, as a CASA representative, I couldn’t recommend him as a prospective parent, even if I’d wanted to.” She focused her gaze across the room and brightened, her smile becoming a broad grin. “Well, butter me up and call me a biscuit. Here he comes.”

Lindy swiveled in her seat. The man was dark haired, muscular, athletic looking and wearing jeans that were worn but clean. He also had on a red polo shirt and matching jacket which bore the Pearson Products logo.

She was about to avert her gaze when it caught his and lingered a heartbeat too long. Blushing, she sank down in her seat and began wishing she could slide all the way under the table, especially when Samantha waved and hollered, “Thad! Over here.”

Lindy gaped. “What did you do that for?”

“So I could properly introduce you to Danny’s Sunday school teacher.”

“I never promised I’d start going back to church.”

“Ah, but you will. For Danny’s sake, of course.”

The hulking figure who soon hovered over Lindy made her feel as small as a child herself.

“Thad, this is Lindy Southerland,” Samantha said. “She has a son the same age as your nephew, Timmy, and I was just telling her about how the kids in your class at Serenity Chapel love having you as their teacher.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He nodded to Lindy as he answered Samantha. “I do my best.”

To Lindy’s surprise, the man looked almost as ill at ease as she felt. Was he glancing around the cramped dining area because he was wishing he could make a polite getaway?

“Please, join us. We have lots of room,” Samantha insisted. She checked her watch. “As a matter of fact, you can take my chair. I have to be getting back to the hospital ASAP. Nearly every bed in my wing is full. Doctors can get away with taking long lunches but we nurses don’t dare.” She gathered up her jacket and trash, slid out, took Thad’s drink from him and placed it on the table opposite Lindy before rushing off.

For a few long seconds, Lindy wondered if the man was going to grab his soda and flee, but he didn’t. Shrugging, he sat down with a resigned air, nodded another silent greeting and began to unwrap his foot-long sandwich.

“I apologize,” Lindy said, feeling her cheeks burn. “Samantha sometimes gets carried away.”

“No problem. As long as it’s all right with you.”

As soon as she said, “Sure. It’s fine,” he picked up his sub and began to eat.

Lindy felt strange sitting across the narrow table from a man—any man. Since being widowed she’d already had to withstand a few well-meaning efforts at matchmaking and had had no trouble doing so. Consequently, it was awkward to find herself trapped in this kind of social situation.

If the attractive man had not seemed so resigned to her presence, she might have left without finishing her lunch. Since he was essentially ignoring her, however, she had no such compunctions. She wasn’t sure what PTSD entailed but she figured polite silence couldn’t hurt him.

Half of Thad’s food was gone before he spoke another word. “So, you have a little boy?”

“Yes. Danny.”

His brow knit. He studied her. “Southerland. Any relation to the accountant who got himself shot a while back?”

Well, that was certainly blunt enough. Thad Pearson might be a man of few words but the ones he did use were definitely to the point. “Yes,” Lindy said. Her chin jutted. “Ben was my husband. And he was an investment counselor, not an accountant.”

“Sorry. I lost my only brother about a year ago.”

“I know. How are his kids doing?”

“Really well, thanks.” He finally smiled, sort of, giving Lindy a strange, tingling sensation and making her wish he had remained stoic. “They’re great kids. Megan is so young she’s adjusted the best. Tim and Paul are coming along, too. Jill and Mitch Andrews make much better parents than I thought they would. Do you know them?”

“I think I used to see them at church. Your brother and his wife, too. They were a lovely family.”

Uh-oh, I said too much, Lindy decided when she saw his smile fade. The way he was staring at her made her uncomfortable, although she could not have said why if her life had depended upon it. There was no anger in his expression, nor was it the kind of intense look she sometimes got from single guys. Thad didn’t act as if he wanted to date her. He seemed to be trying to understand her instead.

That would be a good trick, she thought cynically. Since she didn’t have a clue what made her tick, there was no chance a stranger would be able to figure her out.

Choosing to simply finish the final bites of her pizza, she wiped her fingers on a napkin and started to clear her side of the table.

Before she could rise, however, Thad said, “Wait,” reached for her hand and laid his over it. There was no coercion, no threat and certainly no intimacy. She felt as if his touch was meant to convey empathy.

“I lost my dad when I was pretty young,” he explained. “It was my older brother, Rob, and my life in the military that saved me. Literally. I’ll never be able to repay that debt but I keep trying. No matter how hard you work at it, you can’t be a father to Danny.”

She tried to pull free her hand, although not hard enough to strain, and the intensity of his dark gaze deepened.

“Hear me out. The kid needs men in his life,” Thad said gently. “Bring him to my class Sunday mornings or take him anywhere else. I don’t care. Just find him somebody to look up to. For his sake.”

This time, when she eased away, he let her go. She wasn’t about to listen to advice from a stranger, even though they had both experienced traumatic pasts.

Lindy swept her crumpled napkin into her little pizza box, grabbed her empty soda cup and stood. She wanted to come up with some witty remark in parting but the man’s words were tying her tongue. So was the realization that he was probably right.

Just last night, after the prowlers had left, Danny had said he wished his father was there so he could feel safer. No matter how hard she tried to compensate, she could not be Ben.

She didn’t want to find someone else like him, either. Her late husband had been a liar and a thief and his short temper had left bruises on both her and—at the end—their son. She would never place Danny anywhere near a physically abusive relationship again. Never.

Halfway to the trash receptacle Lindy turned and glanced back. Thad was sitting very still, watching her, yet there was no judgment in his expression. On the contrary, it was so benevolent it made her feel as if she were wrapped in a warm, cozy blanket that would invisibly protect her from the world’s wickedness.