Always a Warrior(20)

Abruptly

apprehensive,

Laurie

only stared at him. He expected her to kill? An image of

Stacy sleeping in the loft flashed in her mind. Her heart swelled with love. She would kill to protect her daughter. Resigned to the inevitable, she left the table to stare out the window. The pile of sandbags waited at the clearing. She squirmed. The gun on her hip was not uncomfortable or even heavy. But the extra weight was a constant reminder of danger.



Behind her, Damien’s hands settled on her shoulders. His presence was strangely comforting.



“I’m not trying to scare you.” He paused, tensed behind her.



“Yes, I’m scaring you,” he continued, his tone grim. “I want you to be scared. A healthy dose of fear might keep you alive.”



Tears threatened but she scoffed bitterly, “I guess you’re not scared.”



His gentle hands turned her to face him, his piercing brown eyes holding hers relentlessly. Grim determination burned in the dark depths of his gazes. “Honey, I’m always scared. I get scared on every mission. Fear keeps you from being stupid or reckless. But don’t let it paralyze you.”



Honey. The endearment echoed in her mind, warmed her heart. She searched his face but found only truth. Leaning against him, she sought strength as his arms closed around her.



“This is so unreal,” she said into his chest. “I’m scared, Damien—especially for Stacy. I don’t want to lose her.” She wrapped her arms around him and clung.



“Trust me, Laurie.”



She tilted her head and looked deep into his eyes, so full of determination. Tightening her embrace, she trusted him with her life and Stacy’s. Could she trust him with her heart? She deliberately pushed that thought away. It didn’t belong. She laid her head on his shoulder. His heart beat steadily, infusing her with his calm strength as his arms sheltered her.

ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

31





Chapter Four




After Stacy woke up from her nap, Damien took her outside, talking to her in a low serious voice. Stacy followed eagerly, chattering excitedly as Damien placed a plastic one-gallon jug of water on top of the sandbags. Stacy grinned, her excitement almost tangible. Damien unloaded the rifle and his pistol. Stacy touched, held, and examined them.



Her heart in her throat, Laurie watched them through the window, hoping the demonstration curbed her daughter’s fascination. Sheer anxiety finally drove her outside.



“Can I shoot it?” Stacy pleaded, her emerald eyes as bright as a child’s on Christmas morning. “Please, Damien?”



Laurie swallowed the lump of fear in her throat as she approached them. Damien looked at her over Stacy’s head, leaving the final decision to her. She gulped, relinquished that bit of fear, and gave a reluctant nod.



Stacy squealed in utter delight while Laurie fidgeted, her thoughts in turmoil. Was her daughter’s interest in guns a little morbid? Or was it another aspect of a child’s healthy curiosity?

Or was it simply a by-product of a bizarre, dangerous situation? She sighed, watching intently as Damien loaded the rifle. She didn’t have the answers.



“Stacy, pay attention,” Damien commanded, his tone getting even Laurie’s attention.

“Pretend that jug of water is someone’s head. Guns are not toys. They are very dangerous if not handled properly.”



Stacy nodded, her expression as serious as possible in her enthusiasm. Damien squatted behind her and put the rifle in Stacy’s hands, his larger hands covering hers to support the weight. Guiding the small hands under his, Damien pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, echoed through the woods. Stacy cringed at the explosive sound. Laurie winced herself. The water jug exploded, splattering water everywhere. Awed, Stacy snatched her hands from beneath Damien’s and ran to look at the damage.



Water soaked the bags, spreading in irregular splotches. Stacy stared in silence then looked back at Damien, her small face solemn for such a lively child.



“It’ll do that to people?” she asked in a hushed tone.



With a grave nod, Damien said, “Yes, Stacy. Guns do that to people if you shoot them.

People die.”



Laurie wrapped her arms around her stomach and restrained herself from hugging Stacy in comfort a she mulled over Damien’s words. Laurie hated seeing her daughter so serious and even troubled and had protected her from violence all her life. But if Stacy was to be safe, she had to learn. Stacy nodded with all the solemnity a child could muster as she walked slowly back to Damien. He flipped the rifle’s safety switch to the ‘on’ position.



“You never touch a gun without my permission or supervision,” Damien ordered, stern and forbidding as he peered down at Stacy. “Understood?”