Page 29 of The Rough Ride (Sanctuary, Inc. #3)

A half-hour of television time was a glorious reprieve from Ollie’s perpetual motion.

The little urchin climbed onto Nick’s lap and fell into a state of rapture every time the cartoon characters sang.

And during commercials, Ollie entertained himself by pulling goldfish crackers in and out of Nick’s golf shirt pocket, his fourth of the day.

He hadn’t been quick enough with the peepee-teepee before nap time and endured another spraying.

The sliver of hope he’d felt with the possibility of hiring a nanny service had dive bombed after a few phone calls.

They’d all required initial in-person interviews, background checks, plus their answering machines requested he leave a message and they’d get back to him after the holiday weekend.

Natalie enjoyed her tea party at the dining room table.

She’d agreed to let Nick skip the event as long as chocolate milk and the little cupcakes confiscated from the pantry served as the treats du jour.

The last time he’d looked, the three dolls she’d invited wore more chocolate icing than the cupcakes .

Biggs had settled into the security office, but not before remarking several times that Nick looked real good with little kids hanging off him. All in all, it had been an okay day. No blood, a few tears, and Nick never would’ve guessed it, but the knot in his stomach had eased.

Biggs’ baritone voice invaded the room. “Hey Boss…”

“Yeah?” Nick’s stomach growled as he chewed the goldfish cracker Ollie stuffed in his mouth with his chubby little hands. Biggs had ordered Chinese a half hour ago. It couldn’t get there fast enough.

“You know that part-time staffer who works for the senator and attends Georgetown?”

Nick snapped to attention. “The student who stays on top of any news stories involving him and his family?”

“Yup. She just sent an interoffice email with a link to a broadcast. You’ll want to look at it right away.”

“Got it.” Nick fished for his phone, watched the video, and then snapped the case shut. A reporter from one of the larger cable stations had posted a broadcast in front of the Richardson’s street sign and had all but announced the senator’s home address.

Biggs sat in a brocade chair across from Nick. “Remind me to never run for public office, man.”

Nick hoisted Ollie to a different shoulder and shrugged. “It’s just the opposition. There’s a big vote next week. That’s why Beau Richardson hired us. Let’s amp up the sensors on the perimeter and be prepared for a few extra drive-bys tonight. I’ll call the next shift in early, just in case.”

His phone chimed with a text from the senator laced with fuming red-faced emoticons about the news broadcast. Nick replied and included a photo of Natalie’s tea party .

I saw the broadcast. All is quiet. Kids happy. Will keep you updated.

The front gate buzzed, and Biggs left the room to answer it. He returned with two huge bags of food. “Kung Pao sustenance, bro. Are we eating in the kitchen with the kids?”

Nick barked a laugh. “That’s the only safe space to eat with Ollie.” He got up and moved to the kitchen where he slipped the little man into the high chair.

Biggs sidled up to him as they fixed bowls of food. “Delivery kid said the reason he was late is because of the protest against Richardson at the entrance to the neighborhood. The young man had to go all the way around and drive the farm roads behind the house. Resourceful guy, if you ask me.”

They exchanged a look, concern creasing both their foreheads.

Nick opened a drawer and rummaged for one of Ollie’s bibs. “I found that road when I walked the neighborhood. It runs along the farthest corral and is unpaved but usable in dry weather. It’s impassable before harvest, but dumps right into the neighborhood. We’re lucky it’s not on Google Maps.”

“Yeah. The kid says his aunt owns the farm. He grew up riding horses there. I gave the kid a big tip.”

“Make sure you expense the meal and tip to me.” Nick paused. “I wonder if the owner would allow us to position a few discreet sensors at the end of her dirt road?”

“It can’t hurt to ask. Regardless, with the harvest over, it’s golden to know there’s more than one way out of this neighborhood besides growing fairy wings and crashing fences.”

Nick nodded as goosebumps skittered across the back of his neck. “Hey Natalie, come in the kitchen and eat some supper. I got you and Ollie chicken fried rice. ”

“Nooo, Mr. Nick, I’m not done with the tea party yet. Can I eat in here with my dolls?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, kiddo. Ollie can’t eat in the dining room. You come in here and finish the tea party later.”

Precious sat at attention three feet away and stared.

She’d been politely hovering since the food arrived.

Nick filled her bowl with chow, got the kids started on their dinners, and the four of them sat and ate while laughing at Ollie’s sticky duck-sauce fingers and Biggs’ knock-knock jokes.

It was the closest thing Nick had had to a family dinner in years.

He wanted to call Liz in the worst way and tell her about his day.

But he’d save it for later. He planned on going back to her place tonight.

Kids were actually…kind of fun. He’d been amused by the spills, not mad.

Charmed by the tears—not pissed. The house was messy, but so what?

The kids were safe and seemed happy, even if the whole boo boo thing still freaked him out.

Nick glanced out the window. The yard stood quiet in the dusky few minutes before dark settled in.

One second, Biggs dangled two shrimp from his mouth imitating a walrus, the kids bubbling with laughter, and the next, Biggs’ eyes flared as he dropped the shrimp and announced they had tourists.

Nick’s phone alarm pinged, the perimeter property lights switched on, and there were a half-dozen streaks of flame in the front yard.

Nick hauled Ollie out of the high chair with one arm, scooped Natalie up with the other, tucked them close to his body and rolled under the big farmhouse table.

Precious threw herself on top of all three and covered Nick’s face with her head.

A crash shrieked above them, followed by a deafening roar. The shatterproof triple-pane windows nearest them held fast. There were several more thuds followed by tinkling glass and a whooshing hiss.

Biggs broke into a run toward the security office. “I called 911.”

Ollie cried at the top of his lungs, and once Nick coaxed the dog off of them, he rolled into a sitting position. Little Natalie was white as a sheet and trembling. In the distance, tires squealed and sped off.

Nick peered over the tabletop and out the window.

The azalea bushes outside the breakfast nook window roared with flames.

A huge maple tree in the yard was split and ablaze.

His best guess at the moment suggested a series of Molotov cocktails flung near and far, causing an inferno.

And the recent three-week drought had left the landscaping dry as kindling, aching for a spark. He smelled smoke.

He gathered the two kids into his arms and hurried into a playroom to them and a safe room to the adults.

He entered codes into the wall panel by the kids’ bookshelf.

In the next fifteen seconds, the steel doors swung shut and locked, steel panels covered the windows, and the separate ventilation system activated.

Nick tried to set the kids down on the rug, but Ollie hung onto his neck while Natalie latched onto his thigh.

He sat in a rocker, pulled them onto his lap, and checked the security feed on his phone.

Emergency vehicles whined in the distance, and a few minutes later, Biggs greeted the first police car with flashing lights in the driveway.

The fires appeared to be limited to the front yard.

When Biggs sent him an all clear text, Nick disarmed the safe room panel and strode into the dining room with the kids in his arms.

Natalie took one look at the yard and started bawling her eyes out, which only sent Ollie into a fresh chorus of hysteria. Their Chinese dinner was scattered as far as ten feet away. Ollie’s high chair lay tipped near the hallway.

Nick paced and rubbed their little backs, murmuring it will be okay, it’s alright now. His military training had included snippets on how to talk to adults after an emotional shock, but kids? He had no idea. If only Derek were here. Derek would have them calmed in a matter of minutes.

Hell. Derek wasn’t here now . Nick needed to figure this out and fast. Forget that he’d go deaf from the crying—Nat and Ollie craved the calm.

Ollie would never remember this night, but Natalie probably would, and somehow, he needed to put a positive spin on the situation like his mother used to do for him.

He dragged in a breath and set his shoulders. “Okay, guys, it’s time to stop crying. That was scary, but you’re not in any danger now. Hey, look at the fire truck,” he cooed. “The firemen will put out the fires for us. Look at all the people who have come to help.”

Hell, they’d seen the destruction. Now let them see the resolution. There was no use in pretending nothing had happened.

His mother’s gravest mistake was thinking she could somehow fix the unfixable, instead of acknowledging that they needed help.

Biggs had total control of the scene out front. Good thing.

“Look, Natalie. The firemen are unwinding the hoses. They’re going to put the fires out. You know, when you go to school, they’ll teach you all about first responders. See that policeman? He’s a first responder because he got here first to protect you.”

Natalie sniffled and glanced out the window. Her face lit with interest. “Look Ollie, there’s a fire truck just like the one you play with in the bathtub.”

Ollie screwed up his face and continued to cry.

Natalie threw an arm around his shoulder and kissed him on his cheek and forehead. “It’s all better now, Ollie, I love you. Look at the big fire truck outside.”

Ollie finally lifted his head. He gaped at the vehicles out front.

Nick shook his head. This was a hell of a lot more entertaining than another SpongeBob episode.

In between everything else, he called the Richardsons to alert them to the fiasco and continued keeping them in the loop with texts and pictures. Angie was now hell-bent on finding a way home early, despite the hurricane.

Nick heated fresh bowls of Chinese food and set Ollie’s high chair in front of the dining room window next to a TV tray and chair for Natalie.

They watched the goings-on in the yard with rapt fascination.

Most of the firemen waved to them, and a female police officer made funny faces from the front walk.

She came inside and interviewed Nick for her police report and left the kids with lollipops.

Precious sat at the door to the kitchen whining and staring, almost willing Nick to look her way.

Oh yeah, the Chinese food scattered around the breakfast nook.

He picked up Biggs’ shrimp (because heaven forbid the dog went into anaphylactic shock with a shellfish allergy) and turned her loose on the chicken fried rice covering the kitchen floor.

Except for a few more shudders and Natalie melting down over her ruined tire swing in the charred maple tree, they watched the scene for the next forty-five minutes, along with Natalie’s chocolate-covered dolls perched on the wide windowsill .

Bedtime came and went. Nick let the kids watch until the last police car quietly pulled out of the driveway. Ollie barely finished his milk and nodded off in the high chair when Kyle, the midnight security guy arrived early as requested and strolled through the kitchen.

“Hey man, busy night here. What can I do to help?”

Nick lifted Ollie from the high chair. “I’m putting this little guy to bed.

Natalie’s already upstairs changing into her pajamas.

You can help Biggs secure the perimeter again.

We’re still running scans to see if we’ve lost any equipment in the fires.

I’ll be back down in a little bit. Biggs’ll bring you up to speed. ”

“Okay. You look exhausted, man. Gonna go home and get some shut-eye? We can take over for a while.”

He nodded. “Definitely thinking about it.”

Nick headed for the stairs with Ollie asleep on his shoulder. Natalie stood in the hallway watching him with big fat tears running down her face.

“Please don’t leave, Mr. Nick. I don’t know that man. Please, Mr. Nick. You can sleep in Linzee’s bed—she won’t mind.” She clutched her teddy bear and sobbed.

His heart tugged hard. She’s been through a lot today.

“I’m not going anywhere, Natalie.” Although, sleeping in Lindsay’s ruffled canopy bed was off the table.

“You promise?” Several more tears cascaded down her cheeks.

“Sure. I promise.” He reached for her hand as they started up the stairs.

“Do you really promise? Sometimes when I have a bad dream, Linzee waits for me to go back to sleep and then she sneaks to her own bed.”

“I really promise,” he said as they neared the upstairs hallway. “ I’m going to sleep in the little bed in Ollie’s room in case he wakes up. If you need me, I’ll be in there.”

“Okay.” Natalie wiped her face with the sleeve of her Barbie nightgown.

“Let me put Ollie down, and I’ll come turn out your light.”

It only took him a few minutes to get Ollie in a fresh diaper and t-shirt. The bruiser was exhausted. It was hours past his usual bedtime.

On the way to Natalie’s room, he texted Liz.

Won’t make it back to your place tonight. Had an incident here. No matter what you see on the news, everyone is alright. Love you.

He found Natalie sitting among five teddy bears in her bed.

“You think you’ll be able to sleep in the middle of all those stuffed animals, kiddo?”

She smiled. “Uh-huh. They’re my night-night friends.”

“Okay. I’m going to turn out the light now.” He reached for the bedside lamp.

“Can I hug you, Mr. Nick?”

What? “Yeah, sure.” He sat on the bed and leaned in, patting her back. “Now go to sleep, you little monkey.”

But Natalie hung on to his neck and kissed his cheek. The kiss was soft as a rabbit’s foot.

“I love you, Mr. Nick,” she whispered.

The breath whooshed from Nick’s body as he held her. No combat zone, counseling, not even Liz could’ve prepared him to hear that short phrase for the first time from an innocent small child. He closed his eyes when they filled and bit his bottom lip to keep it together.

He’d actually taken care of two kids for a full day without hurting them. Could he possibly be a sort of stand-in dad to Liz’s Ella? His heart skittered for several beats.

“Do you love me too, Mr. Nick?”

Was that what he felt? He’d thought it impossible, but it was somehow— right.

“You’re easy to love, Natalie. Get some sleep, honey.”