Monday's Child Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  copyright

  Monday's Child

  Dedication

  Praise for Clare Revell

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  Back Page

  Monday’s Child

  Clare Revell

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Monday’s Child

  COPYRIGHT 2012 by Clare Revell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  eBook editions are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. eBooks may not be re-sold, copied or given to other people. If you would like to share an eBook edition, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version(R), NIV(R), Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

  Cover Art by Nicola Martinez

  White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC

  www.pelicanbookgroup.com PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410

  White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC

  Publishing History

  First White Rose Edition, 2012

  Print Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-173-1

  Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-172-4

  Published in the United States of America

  Monday’s Child must hide for protection

  Tuesday’s Child tenders direction

  Wednesday’s Child grieves for his soul

  Thursday’s Child chases the whole

  Friday’s Child is a man obsessed

  Saturday’s Child might be possessed

  And Sunday’s Child on life’s seas is tossed

  Awaiting the Lifeboat that rescues the lost

  Dedication

  For my son, Rhys.

  Thanks to Ruth, for answering all my midwifery and technical baby questions; to Lynne for providing the emergency department/paramedic information; to Steph for making Luke speak like an American and not like a Brit and for putting up with my constant queries over what the American for this, that and the other is.

  Praise for Clare Revell

  Season For Miracles

  Kyle and Holly came to life in this book with so much ease they hardly sounded fictional and so real. The pain and fear that Holly goes through is heartbreaking but I loved that with Kyle anything is possible. This is definitely a book worth reading for it has everything just right for the season: God and hope. Lena ~ Happily Ever After Reviews

  If you enjoy romantic suspense, you’ll love this fast-paced read. Suspense elements kept me turning pages and the well drawn characters touched my heart. I read Season For Miracles in one sitting, snow bound and cozy. Delicious. I recommend this book to anybody who enjoys a well written and balanced, inspirational romantic suspense. I can’t resist a story that celebrates God’s love and its miraculous power. ~ Author KM Daughters

  Saving Christmas

  Clare Revell does it again with this beautiful story of hope and redemption. Saving Christmas packs a lot of story into a limited number of pages, and draws the reader in from the very first line. It’s a wonderful respite from the hectic holiday to-do list. ~ Author Mary Manners

  1

  Monday’s Child must hide for protection…

  Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, Lord Almighty, my King and my God.

  Psalm 84.3

  Just a perfect June day...Sara leaned into Jamie as they walked the damp, dark streets toward the car. The movie had been great, her new husband’s company magical, but the thought of the rest of the evening made her heart sing. Not even the drizzling rain could quench her joy. God had been gracious to her, by placing a wonderful man like Jamie Barnes in her life, at a time when she thought she was destined to be alone.

  Jamie was a charmer, with dark curly hair and movie star looks to match. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve his attention, never mind his sudden proposal, but she wasn’t complaining. He loved her, so she could overlook his foibles and long days he spent travelling for work.

  A jarring thud jolted her as the bag twisted violently off her shoulder. “Hey...” She gripped at it to find herself flying through the air, her head hitting the ground hard.

  “You all right, babe?” Concern flooded Jamie’s voice.

  “Yes...don’t let him get away.”

  Jamie set off after the thief, as Sara struggled to her feet, seeing stars. Her head spun, and she felt sick. So much for the perfect day. She turned to see Jamie and the thief struggling under the streetlamp. A flash of metal, a swift upward movement of an arm and Jamie hung writhing, looking down at his chest. She screamed his name, her heart pounding as a stab of fear and shock hit her hard. “Ja-a-a-a-m-m-m-m-i-i-i-e-e-e…”

  The tall thin man turned to face her, the knife in his hand. He released Jamie, letting him slump to the ground. The man’s piercing gaze, the hatred in his eyes, and the cruel thin hardness of his lips burned into her memory as Sara ran towards her husband’s motionless body. Long greasy locks and fine rain outlined against stark white streetlight framed the assailant’s face like a halo, reminding her of the angel of death.

  The terrifying sound of a gunshot tore through the misty night air. The sound ricocheted off the alley walls, blue smoke expanding outwards little by little. Pain exploded though her as a bullet ripped into her body. Sara screamed as the blast knocked her to the wet ground. She landed hard, next to where Jamie lay in an ever increasing pool of blood, her breath coming in short gasps.

  She grabbed her leg in pain as slow, deliberate footsteps squelched towards her. Black lace-up combat boots stopped in front of her face. There was a loud click as the hammer on the gun rose, but she wasn’t as scared as she thought she might be. Lord, if I am to die now let it be swift.

  Footsteps ran down the street towards them, shouts echoing. A closer voice called. “We have to go. Someone’s coming.”

  The man gave her a cold stare. “You’ll keep, doll. I’ll be back for you. That’s a promise.” The threat in his voice echoed in the empty recesses of his eyes. Sliding the gun under his jacket, he vanished into the night, taking her bag with him.

  Sara’s whole body shook with pain, but she pushed it aside. “Jamie...” Reaching out she clamped her hands over his shirt in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of blood.

  “Somebody help us, please.” She peered up into the growing crowd around them. “Please, phone an ambulance.”

  “It’s on its way.” Someone i
n the crowd spoke.

  “Sara.” Jamie’s voice was so faint, and his breathing so labored, she had to put her ear to his mouth to hear him. “It…was…Austin…”

  “Jamie, hold on. Help’s coming.”

  He shook his head and groaned, putting his hands on top of hers. “I…do…love...you. Remember…”

  The sirens wailing in the distance grew closer. “I love you, too. They’re coming. Just hold on a little longer.”

  “Ohhh…Sara.” Jamie’s eyes opened wide for an instant, then glazed over. His body went limp, and his eyes closed.

  Tears spilled down Sara’s face, and her stomach twisted within her. “Jamie, no, don’t leave me.”

  Pain from her leg raged through her. Her heart broke, and huge sobs shook her frame. Tears welled up and spilled out, mixing with the blood on the path. Pulling him into her arms, Sara’s fingers clutched him tightly, as if that alone would bring him back, calling his name over and over again. “Jamie. Jamie.”

  ****

  Three weeks later

  Sara stood unsteadily on her crutches, tears running down her face. Dressed in black, she’d come straight from the funeral to pack. Every room in Jamie’s apartment reminded her of him: from the chair he sat in; his coffee mug that stood on the kitchen counter; his shaving mirror and razor in the bathroom; to the new double bed that remained untouched, ready for the first night back from their honeymoon. All her clothes and few belongings had been moved into his place the week before the wedding.

  Sara blinked back tears as Aunt Mary came from the bedroom, carrying a small case. “Is that everything?”

  Mary nodded and wrapped her arms around her niece. “All they’ll allow you. I’m going to miss you.”

  Sara leaned into her. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

  “That’s not possible, Sara. The police explained all that.”

  “But I can’t write, text, email or even take my mobile phone. I’m the victim. Why do I have to go away?”

  Mary hugged her, her voice taking on a firm, no nonsense tone. “Frank Austin killed Jamie and wants you dead. If this ‘witness protection program’ is the only way to keep you safe until he’s locked up, then it’s what we must do. You just have to trust God will work this for good as He promised He would.”

  “Jamie’s dead. His killer is running around the country free, and I get locked up. Where’s the good in that?”

  “Mrs. Barnes, we need to leave.”

  Sara glanced at Detective Constable Lomas and inclined her head enough to show she agreed, despite her feelings. She hugged her aunt. “You take care, Aunt Mary. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, dear. Take care of yourself. Go on now.”

  Unwilling to leave, but unable to stay Sara took firm hold on the crutches. At least she’d lose these in another four weeks or so. She let the police officers lead her out to the car. As she did so, she entered the witness protection program, did what the police wanted and vanished.

  ****

  November

  Detective Lieutenant Luke Nemec, LAPD, pulled up the handle on his suitcase, grabbed his weapons case, slung his rucksack on his shoulder and exited into the arrivals hall at Heathrow Airport, London. Scanning the crowd for the person meeting him, he spotted the card with his name on it and headed in that direction.

  Thank You for bringing me here safe, Lord. Oversee the liaison with the British police. We both want the same thing, despite our different ways of going about it.

  “Lieutenant Nemec? I’m Detective Inspector Wilcox. Welcome to England.”

  Luke shook the offered hand. “Thank you.” He followed the dark-haired officer out to the car, trying not to yawn. He didn’t sleep on planes, and the fifteen hour flight was starting to tell. All vestiges of sleep vanished as Wilcox explained the change in his assignment.

  He wants me to do what? “I’m not protective services, I’m narcotics.” Luke baulked. “Excuse me for being blunt, sir, but can’t one of your own cops do this?”

  “The Chief Constable and Captain Harriman both agree you would be the best choice. Having spoken to him, I agree.”

  At the mention of his commanding officer’s name, Luke sat straight in his seat. “You spoke to Captain Harriman?”

  “I did. You know Austin, and you know how he works, which makes you the ideal choice. Your original assignment still stands. We need your expertise on this. Sara is extremely headstrong. She spent three weeks in hospital and the last four months in a safe house, with just a guard outside, as she refused anything else. Things have changed. I want you with her at all times. As far as everyone is concerned, you’re man and wife.”

  “Sir, with all due respect—”

  “It’s not up for debate, Lieutenant. You’ll move in and not let her out of your sight.”

  Luke scowled out of the window. “I know what witness protection involves, sir.”

  I just chose not to work it. Does doing two jobs mean double pay? And a pretend marriage? She won’t like that idea any more than I do.

  Wilcox smiled as he parked outside the chalet. “Good. I’ll take you over and introduce you.”

  Luke stifled a yawn. “Do I have time for a shower first, sir?”

  “Of course.”

  Luke followed him inside and carried his hand luggage though the minuscule apartment to the bathroom. He could fit the whole place into his living room.

  Knowing from past experience warm water would just make him more tired, Luke jumped into a freezing cold shower. The additional assignment made no sense to his sleep deprived brain no matter which way he looked at it. Lord, I trust You have a reason for this change in the workload. Show me what it is and work it for the best outcome for all concerned. Be with this woman I am meant to protect and help me to do my job to the best of my ability.

  ****

  Sara pushed away her plate, feeling sick again. She laid a hand on her swelling stomach. “Another meal bites the dust. Maybe one day I’ll manage to eat something you like, podling.”

  She let out a shuddering breath. The nickname she gave her unborn child didn’t sound silly anymore. The hospital ran a routine pregnancy test before her first surgery, and the nurse had bustled over and waved a clipboard at her. “Sign this consent. We got the results, and we’re taking you to surgery, anyway.” Obviously they’d expected her to lose the baby. She hadn’t. Jamie’s child had survived the shooting, the three subsequent surgeries and the grief filling her. She was now five months pregnant with a honeymoon baby, who would never know his father.

  She rose, threw the sandwich into the bin, and then washed the plate. Picking up her coffee she smiled and leaned against the counter. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t drink coffee if someone paid her, but again, these were hardly—

  A sharp knock on the door interrupted her train of thought, and she went to answer it, coffee in hand. “Good afternoon, Inspector Wilcox.”

  To her annoyance, Wilcox and the man with him came in uninvited. He shut the door and looked straight at her. “Sara, I’d like you to meet Lieutenant Luke Nemec. Lieutenant Nemec will be your new protection officer. Lieutenant, this is Mrs. Sara Barnes. Sara, things have to change. Lieutenant Nemec is moving in here with you. The cover story is that you are man and wife. You’ll take his name. The papers are being done now.”

  Luke smiled at her and offered his hand.

  Sara ignored it, staring aghast at Wilcox, shock resonating through her, and not just at his abrupt tone. Was there something wrong with her hearing? There was no rank of lootenant in the English police force, for one thing. Or leftenant come to that. For another, he didn’t look like a soldier, and—wait a minute, did he say marriage? “I’m sorry?”

  “Lieutenant Nemec will be with you on a full-time basis. As far as the world is concerned, you’ll be his wife. First name terms only.”

  Furious, Sara shook her head. Her eyes narrowed and her lips set. “Oh, no. There is absolutely no way, either in this
lifetime or the next, that—”

  “Sara—”

  “Don’t you Sara me. I am not going to live with anyone, Inspector. Especially someone I’ve only just met. And I am definitely not marrying him.” She glanced at Luke, deliberately pronouncing his title the English way. “No offence, Leftenant Nemec.”

  Luke slid his hands into his pockets. “None taken, but my name is Luke. If it helps any, I was just told myself.”

  Taken aback by his accent, Sara did a double take. “You’re American.”

  “And you’re British.” He tilted his head, flashing his teeth in a broad smile.

  Sara scrutinized the American cop. He was everything Jamie wasn’t. He was taller, at least six feet. His shock of pale brown hair stood upright in places, almost spiked, and he could do with a shave. He had at least a day’s growth there. Not that this look was bad, but it was definitely different and rather unprofessional.

  Running her gaze over his taut figure, Sara took in the way his shirt hugged his broad chest. His body tapered in at the waist and out at the hips. She raised her eyes back to his face. He was eyeing her the same way. Her gaze met his blue, fathomless one. He was taking Jamie’s place as her protector. This whole marriage thing turned her stomach. She’d lost her husband, their home, and now his name. How much more could she take? Lord, if this is Your idea of a joke, it’s a pretty poor one.

  Sara turned back to Wilcox. “I’m not marrying anyone.”

  “This marriage is in name only and just on paper. You won’t need an annulment or a divorce when this is over. But I am going to have to insist on the first name terms—at least in public.”

  Sara huffed and wrapped a protective arm across her stomach. No way was she calling Leftenant Nemec by his first name. Ever. “The spare bedroom is that way, Leftenant. I’m going for a walk.”