Page 38 of Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat
Chapter Eighteen
‘I don’t like sandwich thieves,’ Fee declared and Tom’s raised eyebrows said she was one crazy woman.
‘Where the devil did you spring from?’ He crouched down to check on the younger man who was clutching his injured hand and throwing wild-eyed stares at them both.
‘Do you mind if we discuss this later?’ Fee asked. The man wedged underneathher foot wriggled and she pressed her knee harder into his back. She exerted enough force on the knife to scratch the surface of his skin. ‘Don’t mess with me. I’ve sliced a man to pieces with this before today.’ He didn’t need to know she’d never even used it to peel an apple. The sight of a thin line of blood trickling down his neck made her stomach churn. ‘Can you please find something to tie thisidiot up with?’
‘Will you be okay if I go back down to the canoe shed for some rope?’
Hopefully the disparaging glance she tossed his way made her answer clear.
‘Right. I won’t be long.’ He smiled for the first time since she’d turned all Warrior Princess on him. ‘You’re quite a woman,’ Tom said with a shake of his head before he hurried away.
Fee inwardly saggedwith relief when Tom reappeared with an armful of stout ropes. He made a swift job of tying the struggling man’s arms and legs together before wrapping another rope around a nearby tree and linking the two. After a few fruitless attempts to stand Watling admitted defeat and slumped to the ground. Tom took a roll of bandages from a first aid kit and began to tend to Pete Kemp’s wrist. A sudden waveof nausea swept through Fee as she realised she’d come close to losing him.
‘You’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you later.’ Tom’s voice thickened with emotion.
‘I know,’ Fee whispered.
‘You’ll have to walk, Pete.’ He helped the boy up. ‘Fee, my truck’s down by the canoe shed so I’ll take Pete with me and we’ll drive back to my cabin. Once I get on the radio, Pop will sendbackup. This one won’t give you any trouble. Between my Boy Scout knots and your… knife skills he’s not goin’ anywhere.’ Watling threw them both a filthy look.
The next hour disappeared in a fog as Tom’s father and several local deputies arrived ready to take away the two prisoners. Hank collected the basic details of what had gone on and told Tom to bring Fee down to his office in themorning for them to make an official statement. The instant they were alone Fee wrapped her arms around Tom and clung on tight.
‘It’s alright, honey.’ He eased her down to sit with him on the porch and tucked her into his lap. Tom’s gentleness freed her tears and Fee sobbed into his warm, solid chest. ‘So, woman, have you got dinner fixed yet? It’s seven o’clock and I’m starving.’
Fee lifted her head and met his beautiful, laughing eyes. She leaned in and kissed him.
‘That’ll do for an appetiser,’ Tom joked. ‘I guess we’d better go inside and I’ll get us fed.’
Tom stirred the soup pot as if his life depended on it, knowing it’d be a damn sight easier talking to Fee if he didn’t look directly at her.
‘Do you want me to start?’
Her straight-to-the-pointquestion cut through his indecision and he glanced back over his shoulder. ‘I’m being a wimp, aren’t I?’
‘No. You’re a normal man. Most males would rather be forced into a silk dress and high heels than talk about their feelings.’ Tom hated being lumped in with the rest of the male sex but she was completely justified. ‘Why don’t you dish up our soup before you stir it to death?’ Fee suggested.‘I’m starving.’
‘Get two spoons out of the drawer and let’s eat.’ Tom gestured towards the nearby cupboard. He carefully shared out the soup between a couple of pretty blue and white pottery bowls. ‘How about some bread or crackers?’
‘No, thanks, but don’t let me stop you.’
‘You won’t,’ he joked. Tom carried the brimming bowls over to the table. ‘There you go. Home-madechicken noodle soup. The cure for every known ill.’
‘Home-made? Another of your many talents?’
‘I can’t lie, honey, it’s my mother’s specialty. She doles out gallons for us all to keep in our freezers for sickness and emergencies. I reckoned today counted.’
‘Can’t imagine why.’
‘Me neither. Pretty run of the mill I’d say.’ Tom broke off a hunk of crusty bread andslathered it with butter. ‘I assume you make a habit of threatening convicted murderers with lethal knives?’
‘Certainly not,’ Fee insisted. ‘It was the first time… and the last, I hope.’
‘You scared Watling shitless.’
She laid down her spoon. ‘And you?’
‘I was terrified he’d turn on you and I wouldn’t be able to…’ Tom’s voice cracked. ‘You about killed me,’ hewhispered. ‘I failed to protect Gina and I was damn sure I’d screwed up again today.’
