Nightwatch. Valerie Hansen
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heart began to pound so hard she could feel her pulse in her temples.
“Natalie?”
Still no answer came.
“Natalie Stevens,” she screeched. “You get out here and talk to me, you hear? I can help you. I will. I promise. Natalie? Natalie?” Her voice rose even higher and she drew out the name. “Nat-a-lie!”
Trying the rear door, Mitch was thrilled to find that it wasn’t locked. He knew he was overstepping by going into the house uninvited in the first place and wasn’t keen on adding forced entry to the charges he would likely face.
Nevertheless, nothing was going to stop him. Not at this point. The only thing that really mattered was reaching Tim, Paul and Megan.
Hesitating, he heard Jill raising a ruckus at the front of the house. Since she was not normally that outspoken he had to assume she was doing it for his sake. Funny how she seemed to understand so much without his having to explain.
There were only two ways in and out of the kitchen where he now stood—back the way he’d come or down the hallway. Taking a chance that Natalie had at least given the children a bedroom in which to sleep and play, he headed down the deserted hall.
The first door he came to showed an unmade bed and adult-size clothing scattered on the floor and chair but no sign of the youngsters.
The door to the second room was closed.
Mitch eased it open.
Tim recognized him instantly and flew into his arms. “Uncle Mitch!”
Paul followed his brother’s lead while Megan remained asleep on one of the twin beds.
Holding tight to the sniffling boys, Mitch straightened, closed his eyes and choked back his own emotional reaction. “It’s okay, guys. Don’t worry. I’ve gotcha.”
Tim took a shuddering breath. “Aunt—Aunt Natalie said we had to live with her now. She said … she said she was going to be our new mother.”
Mitch’s gut clenched. How had she known they were orphaned? He’d only heard the official confirmation himself an hour or so ago. He supposed she must have assumed the worst, given the destruction from the fire and all, but there was still no excuse for breaking it to the boys as bluntly as she had.
“Nothing is settled,” Mitch said, giving the children a hug before lowering them to the floor. “Right now, we need to go. Do either of you have shoes?”
“Uh-uh. We got these dumb clothes at the hospital. I want my superhero shirt.”
With his lower lip trembling, Paul agreed with his big brother. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“Sorry, guys. First things first.”
Mitch quickly approached the sleeping toddler and folded a blanket around her. Megan barely stirred as he picked her up. “Okay, boys, time to go. Be quiet now, you hear? We’re going to leave by the back door.”
“We’re sneaking out?” Timmy whispered, his reddened eyes widening as he swiped the back of his wrist across his upper lip and sniffled noisily. “Way cool.”
“Yeah, cool,” Paul echoed.
“Not if your aunt catches us. Be very quiet.”
Mitch halted at the bedroom doorway and looked toward the kitchen. So far, so good.
He also listened intently, fully expecting to hear Jill and Natalie shouting at each other as they had been moments before.
The silence was so unexpected it made him shiver. That was definitely not a good sign. If Jill wasn’t hollering that meant she’d either been stopped or had, for some reason, decided it was unnecessary to continue.
Either way he was in a pickle. If Natalie was no longer guarding the front door, where was she?
Jill began to tiptoe through the dry, patchy grass, peering in the side windows as she came around the house. There wasn’t much opportunity to see in except where the blinds left slight gaps at the edges of the window frames. If she hadn’t known otherwise she would have thought the house was deserted.
She turned the final corner and spied a small, square rear porch. There were only two steps to climb and she did so very cautiously. Her hand was on the knob, ready to open the door, when she heard a primal scream that reminded her of a nature show about African lions that she’d recently watched on TV. Shivers zigzagged up her spine and lifted the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.
Easing the door open a crack she peeked inside. Her breath caught. She covered her mouth with her free hand to keep from gasping aloud at the scene before her.
Natalie Stevens was standing with her back to the exterior door—and to Jill—facing Mitch and the three children he’d come to rescue. They were clustered in another doorway, apparently about to try to make their escape, and Natalie stood between them and freedom.
Lifting her index finger and laying it across her lips, Jill signaled Mitch. With an almost imperceptible nod he acknowledged her. She could tell his mind was racing, trying to decide what to do next, and she’d have felt a lot better about it if he hadn’t looked as though he was furious—with her.
Well, too bad. Jill wasn’t particularly eager to face the other woman’s irrational anger either, but she saw no options. Unless someone distracted Natalie and got her out of the way, Mitch and the children wouldn’t be able to safely pass. If he truly was mad at her for helping, they’d settle that later.
Jill knew Mitch would have simply pushed his way out if he had been alone. While carrying and guarding the children, however, his hands were literally full. He’d never do anything to endanger them. And the way Natalie was cursing and wildly waving her arms, it looked as if they were running out of time. If someone didn’t act soon, Mitch would find himself—and the children—in the midst of a melee.
Jill was still trying to decide what to do when she gave the door a gentle push. It not only opened, it squeaked!
Natalie stopped midtirade. Whirled. Gaped at Jill. Then her jaw snapped closed and her eyes narrowed. “You! Out of my house. Get out of my house!”
That was Mitch’s cue. With the boys in tow, he bent low over Megan to protect her and made a dash for the door.
Although Jill stepped aside, he jostled her in passing.
She recovered her balance, slammed the door behind the last child and followed Mitch’s gruff order to “Come on.”
They reached the front lawn just as Sheriff Harlan Allgood rolled up, red and blue lights flashing.
Mitch made straight for the police car and stopped on the opposite side of it. By this time Megan was not only fully awake, she was bawling in fright.
With open arms, Jill beckoned to Mitch. “Give her to me.”
Although his expression showed reluctance, he did hand over the squalling toddler. Jill watched him ignore the sheriff long enough to crouch and comfort the frightened little boys.
“It’ll be okay, guys. I’ll do my best to make sure your aunt doesn’t take you away again,” Mitch said. “I promise.”
Then he straightened and faced the lawman. “Hi, Harlan. I just went inside and got these kids. And I’d do it again if I had to. I don’t care if Natalie Stevens is their kin, she had no business taking them out of the hospital without permission.” He gestured toward the social worker who was rapidly approaching. “Ask her. She’ll tell you they don’t belong in that house.”
Just then, a dusty, battered pickup truck slued around the corner and sped recklessly toward the gathering in front of Natalie’s house.
Jill didn’t recognize the driver. “Who’s that?”
“Thad Pearson,” Mitch replied, his scowl deepening. “Looks like he got word through the grapevine. Just