Phantom Rescue

Introduction

To protect her self and her son from her ex-husband, Violet Snow moved to Gladstone and started over three years ago. With the help of her friend Leann, she started her dream career Owning and operating Sweet Cheeks Bakery. Life was sweet; Violet baked for the town, took care of her son and dreamed about the handsome deputy sheriff one day asking her out. But all good things must come to an end. When the paranormal investigation team comes to town Violet finds out her ex is one of their employees. Now he knows where she and her son are. Will he become a threat again?

Deputy Sheriff Dawson McBride has been in love with Violet since the first time he met her right after she moved to town. He was the EMT who treated her after an attack on the Phantom Horse Bridge. Now he’s a police officer and still can’t work up the nerve to do more than buy sweet treats from her. But with her ex-husband in town and up to his old tricks again. Dawson knows he has to man up and protect the woman he desires and her son. Will Violet let him step up and protect them? Will her ex-husband convince her to give them another chance?

When it all comes to a head and the need for a rescue arises will Grandpa Harold and Thor come through for them? Or is this the time there is no Phantom Rescue?

To Aaron, the Emergency Room nurse who saved my life.

PROLOGUE



This was it. The final papers.

Violet Adcock’s hands trembled as she held the legal-size envelope. It was over. Just like that. No bells tolling in the church tower. No official ceremony to remember or flowers to press in the family Bible. Nothing. Just blue wrapped pages bearing her name and his, and Tyson listed as their son.

But how would these divorce papers keep Tyler Adcock from following through with his threat to take their son away from her. Tyson was her universe. The only good thing that had come from her fiasco of a marriage. She couldn’t fathom living a single day without him. Besides, it was Tyler who chose to leave them over a year ago… for another woman, no less. Humiliation didn’t begin to describe her feelings about his leaving. It was like having horse dung thrown in her face and smeared all over her heart. He didn’t want her and he didn’t want their son.

Then a few months ago, the threats began. Suddenly, Tyler wanted to take Tyson to live with him in California. Said he had a proper English nanny who would raise him right. Another insulting wound to her heart. She was a good mother. If he truly wanted his son to live with him, why would he turn him over to a nanny to raise. It was preposterous.

All Vi ever wanted was a simple life with a loving husband and a few children. She had given up a primo opportunity to be a pastry chef at the famous New Orleans Restaurant, Antoine’s, with the soon-to-be-appointed Head Chef, Leanne Gladstone, whom she met at the Denver Le Cordon Bleu School of Culinary Arts and had become best friends instantly.

But when Tyson was born three years ago, she had to make a gut-wrenching decision to give up her culinary dreams to stay home and raise Tyson. Tyler pursued a filming career with one production company after another. She never regretted her decision to be a stay-home mom. Tyson was the missing puzzle piece to her heart and she adored being his mother.

They moved from Louisiana to Denver because Tyler had more opportunities for production positions in the Denver metroplex, but he really longed to move to Hollywood, California. It was the only time Vi had put her foot down. Tinseltown was no place to raise a baby, not to mention the air quality and cost of living.

Her husband was never satisfied with any job he took for one reason or another. She encouraged him and supported his decision to switch companies, still Tyler blamed her for not being willing to move to the west coast. In an effort to appease his accusations, it was she who suggested he seek a position with a crew from California and transfer out there. She assumed he’d commute between productions and return home as often as possible. Instead, he texted, telling her he was staying with an actress named Angelina Something-er-other whom he had been filming, and she had promised him contacts who would put him on a huge production in Hollywood.

And he wanted a divorce.

She was heartbroken, of course, but when the final papers came in the mail today, the reality of it all hit her like a wrecking ball. She crumbled into a heap on the floor and sobbed herself dry. Only when Tyson woke from his nap and came to her also crying, did she pull herself together and wipe away her tears. She drew her son into her lap and rocked him. “Mommy’s all right, Tyson. Mommy’s all right.”

Tyson sucked his thumb as he lay against her chest. A gesture he had stopped, but only did now when he was having an emotional meltdown. If it would help, she thought about sucking her thumb, too. Her cell phone rang and she cringed. She did not want to talk to anybody, not now. Still, she glanced at the screen and drew in a deep breath. It was Leanne Gladstone, of all people. Vi lifted the phone, sniffed, and answered, “Hello.”

“Vi?” Leanne’s concern riveted her voice. “Are you okay?”

Vi’s throat squeezed what words she might have said and tears poured down her cheeks again. Tyson pressed into her chest frantically sucking his thumb to the last knuckle. “No. I’m not.” She finally managed.

“Oh, Honey!” Leanne said. “What’s going on? What can I do?”

Vi drew a ragged breath and swiped her face. She told her dear friend what Tyler had done and about the divorce papers. Leanne listened, although Vi could hear her sniff empathetic tears. She glanced down at her son. He was sound asleep, so she continued.

“I just don’t feel safe.” Violet breathed the words. “Leanne, I don’t know what to do. A restraining order is not keeping Tyler from saying awful things.” She sobbed and lifted Tyson to carry him to his bed. ”He’s threatened to take T away because I’m not employed. If he’d pay the child support he’s supposed to pay, I can manage without getting a job and putting T in daycare. He’s never been in daycare in his life.”

“Oh, honey,” Leanne said. “Please let me help you and Tyson.”

Vi shook her head. “I don’t see how.”

Steeling grit hardened Leanne’s voice. “Well, I know exactly how. You pack you and Tyson’s things and move here to Gladstone. Harry can put you in a room at the Bed and Breakfast. Don’t worry about money, we’ll work something out—

“I know! You can bake your sweet-cheeks treats and supply the kitchen in exchange for your rent and I’ll see to it that you get other business, too. You won’t have to put Tyson in a daycare, either. He’ll be fine right at your side, or… I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out. I promise you, we’ll work all this out. And, Vi…”

Vi sniffed. “What?”

“I swear to you, you will be safe from Tyler Adcock or anybody else who might want to bring any harm to you and Tyson. You’re family to me, and we Gladstones take care of our family, no matter what.”

“Oh, Leanne, I just don’t see how I can do this.”

“Nonsense. My brothers, Harry and Heath, and my cousins, Samantha and Mysti, and I will be there this Thursday. You get everything packed. If you can’t get everything packed, we’ll pack it all for you. I’ll borrow Uncle Henry’s produce car, it’s big enough to move a three-bedroom house worth of furniture and all your boxes. If not, I’ll rent a U-Haul. You’re coming here, that’s final. This is your home now. You’ll be safe. I promise.”

ONE



“Ms. Snow!” Police Chief Trent Gibson entered the Sweet Cheeks Bakery calling out her name. Vi rushed from the back with dirty rubber gloves on both hands.

“Oh, Chief Gibson, I was cleaning the ovens. How may I help you?” She pulled off the gunk and soap covered gloves, and stuffed them under the counter.

“Well, I came by to see how I can help you, Ms. Snow.”

“Call me Vi, please. I don’t know…”

Memories flooded her mind. The first time she met Gladstone’s Chief of Police had been the second day after she had packed everything she owned and Leanne Gladstone, along with her two brothers and two girl cousins, loaded her things into Henry Gladstone’s produce car and moved her to their hometown. Most of her things went into storage and she and Tyson took only what they needed immediately and moved into the Gladstone Bed and Breakfast.

That first night, the housekeeper, Mrs. Shirley Jackson, took to Tyson as if she were his grandmother and offered to watch him so that Vi could go for a run to relieve so much stress and anxiety. She had been drawn to the bridge known as Phantom Horse Bridge, so when she completed a stretching routine on the B&B’s lawn, she began a slow jog over to the bridge. Its path led off into a forested area along the river.

The rushing water and quiet of the forest fed her soul. She ran for over a two miles before turning around. The sun had set and dusk had turned to dark. The path was a light grey crushed granite, so Vi wasn’t concerned with running or finding her way back. But when she crossed over the bridge, a hooded, dark figure dashed out from the bridge’s structure and tried to take her down. His face was covered by a black ski mask, but he had lust and fire in his eyes. His nose and lips protruded through the mask. All she knew was that he was a white male.

The assailant grabbed her shoulder and pulled her down by the material as he tore her jogging jacket, exposing her shoulder and part of her athletic bra. An old cowboy had come out of nowhere. She hadn’t seen him when she entered the bridge the second time, but then again, it had been dark and she was tired and focused on getting back to the Bed and Breakfast and her son.

She screamed, but the old cowboy hollered louder, “What do you think you’re doing, boy?” He lifted a bull whip and cracked it next to the guy’s foot. The pop echoed through the structure of the bridge. “If’n I were you, I’d stop hurting that there young gal and be on my way while I still had my hide intact.”

A large black horse with a stark white tail and mane walked up next to the cowboy, nodding its head up and down as if he were in agreement with what his rider had said. The horse pawed the ground and reared up behind the cowboy, waiting for a chance to stampede the foolish would-be assaulter.

Vi’s eyes turned from the cowboy to the man, but all she saw was his backside, running with all his might into the forest. The horse’s hooves clapped against the old wooden bridge. Vi turned back to see the cowboy gently leading his horse toward Vi. “Ma’am” —He pushed his beige Stetson back on his head. His face was worn and tanned, like a man who had worked out in the sun all his life. Kindness twinkled in his watery grey eyes— “A tender young thing such as yerself shouldn’t be out this late. Can me and my partner walk you to where ever you might be going?”

Vi trembled violently. She could have been raped or worse. Tyson would be left all alone. How stupid and selfish of her to take a run so late in the evening. She had no idea who that attacker had been, but he almost turned her world upside down. On the other hand, this cowboy had something about him that her soul recognized as someone she could trust. “I-I’m just returning to the Inn.”

“Over yonder?” The cowboy nodded his forehead toward the Gladstone Bed and Breakfast mansion.

“Yes sir.” Vi answered him with a shaky voice. “That’s where I’m staying for now.”

“Well, then you’re in good hands, li’l missy. Them’s good people. I’d trust ‘em with my life, if I were you.”

Tears ran down Vi’s face. “That’s exactly what I’m doing, Mister…?”

“My name’s Harold. I reckon that’s all you need to know about me, and this here’s my buddy, Thor.” He and the horse walked slowly next to her as she gingerly paced her steps, regaining strength in her trembling body from the fright she had just experienced. They talked about the town and the people as they strolled across the expansive Phantom Horse Bridge Park toward the Inn. Soon, she was at the front door. Thor blew through his lips, like a horse does when it’s anxious to be ridden. Vi laughed and turned to say something about the steed being ready to get going. But neither Harold nor the steed was there beside her.

She turned to look all around, but didn’t see anyone or any hoof tracks in the crushed granite drive that lined the entrance to the Bed and Breakfast. “Huh?” She wondered how Mr. Harold and that huge horse managed to ride off without her hearing or noticing their leaving. She jogged up the steps. Mr. Harold had advised her to immediately talk to Harry Gladstone or Mrs. Jackson so the local authorities could file a report about the man who accosted her at the bridge. Harold told her the guy had pulled this little trick before and he would again, but he and Thor would be keeping an eye out to make sure the women were safe until Chief Gibson’s time came to catch the dark man. Until then, Mr. Harold advised her to only go running when it was daylight and never after dark.

She topped the steps and turned one more time to search for the man who saved her with nothing but his voice from being a victim. But he was nowhere to be seen across the vast open park. She shrugged and ran in to find Harry and Mrs. Jackson.

Vi blinked, bringing her thoughts back to the present. That had been the first time she met Gladstone’s Chief of Police, Trent Gibson. He was new to his position, a married man, and his wife was expecting twins. How time changes everybody’s worlds. Now, Tyson was nearly seven years old, Vi remained a single mom, but she had built a successful bakery business, while poor Chief Gibson was a widower with two two-year-old boys.

“I guess you heard my ex is with the paranormal group that Mayor Hal invited here?”

Chief Gibson nodded.

“Samantha Gladstone called me this morning and told me he called out to my son when they were walking into the school building. Sam said it frightened Tyson. I can’t tell you how upset I am about that. I haven’t seen him or heard from him in three years.” Vi leaned on the display case. Her legs had turned to rubber. “I don’t know what he wants or if he wants anything, for that matter.

Later that morning, he spoke to Samantha, but I haven’t heard a word from him all day. My stomach’s a mess and I’m worried about what he’s thinking of doing. I just don’t know what to expect. Th-that’s why I’m cleaning the ovens.” She twittered a giggle. “I clean when I’m nervous.”

“Vi, I understand. Lucy was the same way.” The chief smiled, but it wasn’t a joyful gesture. Sadness still resonated in his eyes. He missed his late wife. Everyone in town missed her. She was a wonderful, sweet person, and everyone loved Lucy.

She died so suddenly, a highway accident just before Christmas. The whole town had rallied to help him with the twins, including Vi and Leanne. Everyone who could helped with the boys until Lucy’s mother, Christine Brown, came from Texas to live with him and help take care of them so the chief could return to work. His grieving process hadn’t exactly moved along too far. “May I ask you a question?”

Vi nodded.

“Before you two split up, was he aggressive? Did he hurt you in any way? What I’m asking is this: Is there any reason for me to be concerned about him contacting you or seeing his son?”

Vi stared at her counter. When she lifted her face, he knew the answer but waited for her to say it.

She bit her trembling lip and drew in a long breath. “Yes. I have an active restraining order against him. You know, I moved here to more or less hide from him. And…” She sighed. “Yes, he was aggressive. He got very angry at me on more than one occasion, and… well, once he slapped me, hard. Caused a black eye.

I was a stay-at-home mom, but I was busy with an active little boy.” She tried to smile. “He called me horrible things and broke several dishes. But the thing was, he wasn’t happy being married to me and when Tyson came along, he got worse, because for the first time, I stood up to him and refused to make life-changing decisions that affected Tyson in a bad way. We finally agreed he should transfer to California where he thought he’d be more successful. I never knew when or if he’d be home. He would pop in unexpectedly and demand” —a flushed filled her face— “well, he’d expect his husbandly rights. But it had been just me and Ty for such a long time, I didn’t even sleep in his bed any more. I tried my best to stick it out. Then he texted me from California and told me he wanted a divorce.

“He just left me! No rent money, no food money, nothing. And he left to be with another woman. Frankly, I was glad to see him go, once I got over the shock and humiliation of the whole thing. You know, thank God and Greyhound…” She tried to chuckle. “Let me tell you a story that nicely sums up Tyler’s personality.”

Chief Gibson agreed with a nod.

“When Tyler and I were dating, I found him sitting on the outside stairs to our apartment. He was eating an apple. It sounded so crisp and juicy when he bit into it, that I wanted to taste it. So I asked him if I could have a bite. He stood up, glared at me with hateful, angry eyes, and threw the apple into a trashcan at the bottom of the stairs.” Tears swelled in her eyes. “If he couldn’t have the apple all to himself, then he didn’t want it at all.” Vi wiped her eyes with her apron. “In hindsight, I realize that was a huge red flag to walk away from the relationship, but I just didn’t know it at the time. I think that’s why he resented Tyson when he was born, because he had to share me with our son.

“Then Leanne Gladstone called. It was as if she had a premonition I needed help. She called and invited… no, Leanne insisted I come to Gladstone, and you know Leanne, shoot, that whole Gladstone family, they’re so sweet and big hearted. Leanne wanted to buy this bakery and set me up with it and the apartment upstairs. Just hand it all over to me lock, stock, and barrel, or bakery oven, as it were.

“It took every ounce of willpower I had to convince her to help me get the business loan and let me pay them back for their investment. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without them. But Leanne would have drained her entire inheritance if I’d have let her.” Tears formed anew. Vi drew a ragged breath and gazed at Chief Gibson.

He pushed the Stetson back on his head. The gesture sparked a vivid memory of that cowboy three years ago, shoving his Stetson back on his forehead. Could it be she, like so many locals, had had an encounter with the infamous Grandpa Harold and Thor?

Trent nodded. “Yes, I remember when you first came to Gladstone.” His eyes diverted from hers. She knew why. “Alright. I can’t officially do anything to Tyler Adcock unless he does something illegal, but I’ll have one of my boys drive a patrol car by several times a day. Dawson McBride usually has this part of town.”

Vi’s heart sped up. She knew Officer McBride. He was one of the first responders who examined her for injuries the night she had been attacked at the Phantom Bridge Park. Now, he was a police officer and stopped by her bakery for sweet rolls and coffee many times. He was very sweet himself, and she felt a tingle of attraction every time he came in. But there was something that kept him at a distance. She couldn’t put a finger on it. He seemed to be friendly. Perhaps it was just concern for her welfare, as any public servant should have toward his citizens.

She thought he might ask her out a time or two, but he never did. Nor did he linger too long in her shop. He’d tousle her son’s hair as he left for school. Even Tyson seemed to like the man, a lot.

But, Vi figured few, if any, men would be interested in a single mom, let alone a career woman.

“I’ll make sure McBride keeps a close eye on your place” —Gibson continued— “while that paranormal group is in town, but Violet, you have to make me a promise.”

She gave the chief a slight nod.

“You call nine-one-one if your ex-husband tries to do anything, and I mean anything, threatening.”

She nodded again.

Compassion filled the chief’s eyes. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me know you need it.”

“Okay. I understand.” Vi sighed.

“All right.” the chief lifted his hat and placed it back on his head proper and tipped two fingers from it as a goodbye gesture. “Ms. Snow, I think I’ll run a police report and just see what turns up.”

Vi swallowed hard. “All right.”

Her thoughts came back to Dawson McBride. Why didn’t he ask her out? She knew she was different, a lot different, from the women of Gladstone. She expressed her individuality in brightly colored rainbow highlights and pixy short hair. It was what made her happy, and something Tyler would have never allowed. All the more reason she did it now.

Tyson, funky hair, and baking were the things in her life that made her happy. She had a talent and it made her a successful bakery owner. She had to give the devil his due, she created the best sweet treats in town and her seasonal pies were to die for. Even she craved her pumpkin and pecan pies in the fall. Le Cordon Bleu had taught her the art of pastries, but she had discovered little twists and variations that gave her treats that something special that no one had figured out, but everyone craved.

Her shop thrived. In the three years she’s been here, she’d been able to repay the Gladstones what they had invested in her business and doubled up on her payments to the bank. Not only did she sell from her counter in the Sweet Cheeks Bakery, but the Gladstone Bed and Breakfast had a standing order for pies, cookies, and cinnamon rolls, and the diner had a standing order for donuts, cinnamon rolls, custard filled long johns, and puff pastries.

Her thoughts came back around to Dawson McBride, again. Seemed like she did that a lot lately. He was a strikingly handsome man and the uniform only accentuated his good looks. She’d allowed a fantasy or two to linger in her mind whenever he left the shop, but until he made the first move to ask her out, he would remain just that: a fantasy.



Vi kept herself busy that morning, baking way more treats than usual. She couldn’t stand being idle. Her mind ran rampant when she wasn’t doing something. Every time her bakery door opened, she cringed, anticipating Tyler Adcock barging in. She honestly had no idea what he thought was going to happen, now that he had found her and Tyson.

Had he already known she lived in Gladstone? He hadn’t contacted her in three years. She assumed, or hoped, he didn’t know where she’d moved. Had he stumbled on her by accident? She honestly had no idea. Until he made some sort of contact, she wouldn’t know what he intended.

The bell tinkled on her door, and she peeked over the half wall from her kitchen. It wasn’t Tyler. She sighed relief, but then her heart quickened. Dawson McBride approached the sales counter, looking around and behind and over into the kitchen.

“Hello.” Vi called from the kitchen as she gently closed an oven door. Two dozen cupcakes would be done in twenty-five minutes.

“Mmm, Miss Snow, it always smells so good in here.” Officer McBride took a typical cop stance. Feet shoulder width apart, hands resting on the equipment in his belt, back straight, shoulders back, head facing forward. No expression of emotions, happy or mad, just alert and present.

Vi smiled as she wiped her hands and entered her display area. “Well, thank you, Officer McBride.”

He touched his hat. “Chief Gibson asked me to keep a close eye on your place of business and you in particular.”

Me in particular, she thought. That sounds nice.

”Could I ask you more about what’s going on? Chief said something about an ex-husband?”

“Yeah…” Vi gathered her thoughts from where they had wondered into her fantasy about Officer McBride, and drew in a cleansing breath. She briefly explained what had brought her to Gladstone and how Tyler had made several threats but had not actually showed, until today. A traitorous tear escaped the corner of her eye and she vehemently swiped it away. Tyler’s appearance was putting her in a position of sharing stuff she’d rather keep to herself, but she’d promised Trent she’d let them help. So, spilling her guts was required in order for this officer to know how he could help. She’d like to tell him other ways he could help, also, but that would be inappropriate at this time.

Besides, he’d already seen her at a most vulnerable time in her life, after the attack on the bridge, why not let him in on all this mess, too?

TWO



Dawson’s attentive eyes caught every detail, including Violet’s attempt to disguise an obvious and deep-seated fear for this Tyler Adcock. Something stirred in Dawson’s gut. He watched Vi as she recounted the history that made this guy a threat. Resisting stepping closer to her and taking her into his arms, he wanted to tell her she was safe, he’d make sure of it. She shouldn’t have to worry about some idiot who didn’t have the first clue what an amazing woman she was. Adcock had let her slip through his fingers and it was his own fault. Now, he had the audacity to come back claiming her as his own, when he’d been the one who abandoned her and their son. It made Dawson’s blood boil and he’d be damned before he’d let this moron hurt Vi or Tyson.

What an idiot!

She seemed so vulnerable, so sweet and innocent, yet he admired her strength. She had moved here, a single mom, and had built this business with her bare hands while raising Tyson, who was a good kid. The boy minded his mother, respected others, and generally exhibited being raised to make good choices. Even at the young age of seven, Tyson impressed Dawson as a great kid.

Being the oldest of four kids, Dawson’s own mother having been a single mom who worked as a waitress, he understood Vi’s struggle and truly appreciated Tyson’s good manners. His own father had abandoned them when he was about Tyson’s age now, so he had an empathetic connection with the kid. On his afternoon runs, he’d see Tyson sitting at a table in the bakery, doing homework. It warmed memories of himself and his siblings all sitting in a booth at the diner his mom waitressed at. He’d do his homework and help them with theirs.

Tyson only had himself to look after. His mom was much more financially stable than Dawson’s mom could ever be. Tyson and he had one more thing in common, they were dearly loved by their moms.

Ever since he’d become an officer, he’d taken advantage of his assignment to patrol the downtown area and look in on Violet Snow. He wanted to do so much more, but something inside him kept him back. She was such a smart woman, her success demonstrated how brilliant she was. She’d never be interested in a local, home-grown guy such as himself. He’d barely graduated from high school, and a one-year certificate for medical tech and the police academy was as high of an education as he had. She’d graduated from some fancy chef school with a bachelor’s degree. He wasn’t good enough to offer her anything more than a heartfelt vow to protect and serve as an officer of the law.

“Well,” Dawson said at last. “I’m on this patrol and I have no intention of letting anything bad go down on my watch.”

“Thank you.” Vi’s cheeks filled with a crimson blush. If possible, it made her even more beautiful. “But… what about after your shift is over. Is there another officer patrolling at night, too?”

Dawson thought about her question. “Sure there is. I know him personally. Joshua Bailey’s a good man…”

Something flashed in Dawson’s eyes. Vi considered the look on his face. “So, you trust him to protect us, while Tyler is in town?”

“I-of course I do… I might just see if I could, you know, maybe I could take an extra shift, you know, just to be extra sure everything is all right in your neighborhood.” Now it was Dawson whose face filled with heat. “Maybe I could set up a stakeout in your alley or something… you know, if you would feel better. Or… I could give you my cell number… you could call me if anything doesn’t seem right… or…”

Vi’s eyes rounded. “You want to give me your cell phone number? Rather than me calling nine-one-one? I’m not sure I understand. Dawson, what are you trying to tell me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, displacing his uniform Stetson. “Well, Miss Snow, I really care about you and Tyson’s well-being… I mean. I’m a cop and I care about all the people on my beat.”

Vi laughed. “Your beat? You sound like a New York Copper.”

Dawson chuckled. Why did everything he say sound so stupid when he was around her. “I’m just saying, I’ll make sure you two are safe from Tyler Adcock or anybody else who might think they can do something stupid in this neighborhood.”

Vi grinned. “I understand, Officer McBride. And I appreciate it. You have no idea how much I appreciate knowing you are watching out for us. I really feel safer. Really, I do.”

Dawson adjusted his cowboy hat. “Good. I-I want that for you.”

Vi pursed her lips. Silence loomed between them. Dawson knew he should leave, but he just didn’t want to. He needed to think of some reason he could stay a little longer. “So, what’s that smell? Is it something I could buy fresh out of the oven?”

“OH! Gosh!” She ran to her kitchen. “My cupcakes!”

Dawson watched as she pulled open the oven and dark smoke billowed out. She waved the smoke out of her eyes and grabbed two mittens. Pulling the dark brown tin trays from the oven, tears streamed down her face. “They’re ruined.”

“I’m so sorry.” Dawson rounded her sales counter and did something he’d never done. In the two years he had been coming into Violet Snow’s bakery, he had never entered her kitchen. But he needed to verify the oven was safe, the contents had not started a fire. He lifted the fire extinguisher as he entered the smoke filled room, and opened the oven door with a tea towel he spied on a rolling cart. The smoke billowed out and stung his eyes. He pulled the pin on the extinguisher and thoroughly sprayed the interior until the smoke fizzled. No flames burned on the inside. He bent his neck to give the oven a good look over, verified it was safe, and closed the oven door. He turned to Vi. “Are you alright, Miss Snow?”

She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “I’m fine. May I have that?” She held out her hand for the fire extinguisher, like a teacher would hold out her hand for him to spit out his gum into her palm, and snatched it from him. Fumbling, she attempted to rehang it on the wall. Seeing her struggle with the hook, he eased it out of her hands and re-hung it on the metal latch. “There.”

Again he turned to find her angrily watching him, her fists were firmly planted on her hips and she looked seriously enraged. “You done?”

“Yes ma’am.” Why was she so mad? He was only trying to help. Make sure she wasn’t the victim of a domestic accident. There was such a high percentage of accidents caused to women in the kitchen, he couldn’t remember the exact number but it was high. “I just wanted to be sure you were safe.”

She sighed. “I know.” She let out a heavy breath. “I know. This is just not one of my better days. And now, I’ve got this to clean up.” Tears choked her words and she leaned against the oven door, with her head on the handle, and sobbed.

“Of course.” Dawson paused. Should he do anything? Or let her be. He had asked her for a cupcake, which had prompted her to remember she’d left them in the oven, over cooking in the first place. He didn’t really want anything to eat, he just wanted an excuse to linger a little longer before he went back on his patrol. “Look. Can I help you clean this up?” He stared at her shaking shoulders.

She lifted her head and glared at him with tear soaked, blood shot eyes. “No, Officer McBride, you’ve done enough.”

He stepped back from her. “Well, I probably ought to get going, but I want you to have this.” He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and wrote on the back of it. “This is my private number, you call me if there’s anything you need.”

She reached for the card. But he pulled it back from her grasp.

“I mean anything!”

“I’ve got it, Officer McBride. Anything.” She took the card and tapped it on her palm.

Dawson nodded. Questioning himself if this was absolutely everything he could do. He couldn’t think of a single other thing to stall any longer. He nodded again and touched the brim of his uniform Stetson, then turned and took long strides to leave her bakery.

Sliding into his patrol car, he pulled the seatbelt and fastened it securely, placed his hands on the steering wheel at ten and two, stared straight ahead, and banged his forehead on the wheel. “God! What an idiot I am! That oven wasn’t on fire. How stupid, stupid, stupid!” His head hurt and he saw stars zipping past his vision. He rubbed the sore spot on his forehead and glanced into the bakery windows. Violet couldn’t be seen. She was back in the kitchen, probably scrubbing that carbon monoxide foam out of the oven so she could bake another batch of cupcakes, or had he ruined her oven for good?

He shook his head and jammed the key in the ignition.

He had to figure out a better way of spending time with this woman he cared so much about.



Officer McBride had finally left Vi’s bakery. Frustration overwhelmed her. First, at herself for not setting a timer and letting the perfect orange spice muffins burn, and second, for the ridiculous way Dawson acted like she had no idea how to handle something over-cooked in the kitchen. She rolled her eyes and waved the tea towel in the air to try to get the smoke to clear. She turned toward the deep sink and pulled the window open to further vent her kitchen. The last thing she needed was for the bakery to smell like burned baked goods.

And her oven! It looked like it was ruined. She had no idea how to get all that CO2 foam out properly so that she could use her oven again. Good thing she had more than one, but still. She lifted her phone to call Leanne. Maybe she knew how to clean up this mess. While the phone rang, Vi snuck a peek out the front windows.

Officer McBride still sat in his patrol car. She wondered what he might be doing. Calling in his findings at her bakery? Situation normal, crazy baker lady burning baked goods, Fire contained.

EXCEPT THERE WAS NO FIRE!

Perhaps he sat out there regretting he gave her his phone number? Would he come back and take the card away? She held it close to her heart. She wouldn’t call him for anything other than Tyler breaking down her door. But at least she’d have the number so if Dawson should call her, she’d know it was him when she saw the screen.

Despite her anger toward the bumbling Officer McBride, the thought of having his number stored in her phone made her smile. She really hoped he would call… and ask her out.

Wait! Not while Tyler was in town.

Leanne’s phone clicked over to voice mail. Vi hung up. She’d see Vi had called and call her back when she had a chance. Just then her phone rang. “Hey, Chef Snow.” Leanne answered her phone. Vi told her the problem and waited through Leanne’s hysterical laughing until she finally got control and gave her the secret formula for cleaning up the mess. Basically, it would take a lot of degreaser, sanitizer, professional grade scrubbers, and elbow grease. Vi sighed and thanked Chef Leanne. The close friends still called each other by the formal kitchen moniker they learned in college out of respect for the accomplishment. Like saluting a uniform in the military.

She hung up. A quick glance out the window indicated Officer McBride had just pulled away from the curb. She hated to see him leave. Knowing he was near felt… safe, it felt right. Her stomach suddenly tightened. There was no way she could go out with another man with the possibility of Tyler seeing her. It’d be the apple, all over again. Oh God! He’d cause a horrible scene.

Nightmarish memories of Tyler and the outrageous jealous fits he had thrown when she merely glanced at a male person who interested her, for many reasons other than what Tyler accused her of. A shiver traversed her spine and she quaked from the memory. Tyler’s leaving her was the best thing to ever happen to her, except for Tyson’s birth, of course.

Now Tyler was here and probably thinks they could get back together. She’d marry a cactus before she’d have anything to do with that lunatic again. She’d marry Jimmy Troutman’s Pig, Hoover, before she’d spend any time with Tyler Adcock again. She laughed to herself. Hoover would be such an improvement over Tyler. At least he always appreciated anything she cooked for him. She laughed even harder. The idea was preposterous and wonderful at the same time.

Then her phone chimed. Had Leanne thought of something else? No, it wasn’t Leanne. Before she picked it up to see who was calling, her gut knew. Tyler had somehow figured out her number and was finally making contact. This was it. She sighed and lifted the phone. “Hello.”

“Hey, baby.” Tyler’s voice hadn’t changed one iota. It still sent a shock wave of dread down her spine.

“What do you want, Tyler?” Vi entered her supply closet and searched for the heavy duty degreaser and heavy duty scrubbers. Her rubber gloves hung near the industrial size sinks.

“Aw, Honey. Don’t be like that. I wanted to let you know, I’m coming home.”

She couldn’t believe his casual stupidity. “Tyler, my home isn’t your home. I don’t know where you think you’re coming home to, but Gladstone is not your home. It’s my home.” She cradled the phone on her shoulder and pulled the fifty-gallon trash can over to the oven, set the degreaser down, and began pulling on the rubber gloves.

“Aw, Sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ve seen the light. Please forgive me, baby. I just want to come see you and our son. I miss you two so much. I love you with all my—“

Vi hung the phone up. She leaned on the counter but her knees still gave way and she crumpled to the floor. The bottle of degreaser fell over and rolled away from her. Her sobs came in waves. She couldn’t stop crying. Oxygen seemed to leave the room as she desperately tried to pull air into her lungs. Her airways seemed to close up and she couldn’t get much in. Her heart pounded against her chest so hard it hurt. She clasped a rubber-gloved hand to her chest. Was she having a heart attack?

Her eyes went wide and her other hand clawed at her throat. Far away she heard the doorbell jingle and footsteps approaching her, but her vision narrowed into a tunnel surrounded by blackness. Someone spoke to her, but the buzz in her ears drowned out their voice. A paper bag was pressed against her mouth and nose. She panted for air. The bag collapsed and bellowed. The blackness rolled back. Her vision broadened and the buzzing ebbed to where she could hear again the crinkle of the sack as she filled it with air and drew it back.

Dawson McBride had a hand on her back and the other covered her hand that held the paper bag. “That’s it. Breathe slowly. In… Out… You’re doing better. You’re all right.” He spoke with such a soothing voice, she felt calmer and safer than she had all day. Finally she pulled the bag from her face and looked into Officer McBride’s eyes. She’d never realized how gorgeous his eyes were. They looked like melted pools of caramel and chocolate. His eyelashes were long and thick. Why do boys get the great eyelashes? She smiled and took one more shallow breath. “How’d you know?”

“I didn’t.” He helped her up to her feet. “I thought I was coming back in to get a sweet roll, but I found you on the floor hyperventilating. What happened?”

Vi swallowed and drew a slow, shallow but cleansing breath, the way Mysti had taught her. “I-I hung up on him.” Anxiety crawled back up into her throat. Her breath became ragged as if she were breathing through the water wheel of a swamp cooler. She felt things closing in on her again. “I’ve never hung up on him before. He’s going to be so mad.”

Dawson tilted his head. “You mean Tyler Adcock called you and you hung up on him?”

Tears pooled in Vi’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She nodded. The constriction in her throat wouldn’t allow her to speak another word.

Dawson’s heart broke for her anguish. He let go of the restraint he had been keeping and pulled her into his arms to hold her close to his chest. She trembled and he kissed the top of her head. Her hair smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. She cried against the starched uniform shirt. All he could do was stroke her hair and whisper, “Shhh. Shhh. Shhh.”

Her phone rang again, but Dawson took it from her tiny hand. He saw the number and mentally memorized it. Lifting it to his ear, he slid his thumb across the answer bar. “This is Officer Dawson McBride. Mister Tyler Adcock, this is an official warning.”

The man stammered on the other end, but Dawson continued. “There is a legal restraining order requiring you to leave Violet Snow alone. In fact, it requires you to maintain a minimum of one-hundred feet from her and you are to contact her by written correspondence only. I suggest you follow that order. If you need to refresh your knowledge of said order, I’ll be happy to meet with you personally to give you a copy. In fact, Mr. Adcock, I’ll be happy to read it to you, if you are too stupid to read it for yourself.”

Dawson knew he’d gone too far. He knew better than to insult the perp, but Vi’s little meltdown had reached a part of his heart no woman had ever touched before. There was nothing, at this point, he wouldn’t do to protect her. And he knew it.

Tyler screamed into the phone. “Look here, Officer McBride, was it? I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no business talking to me like that! What’s your badge number? I’ll report you as soon as I hang up! You’re gonna lose your badge, buddy! Just you wait!” The line went dead. Dawson turned to see how Vi was holding up.

She had bent her head and was back to breathing into the paper bag. Her eyes were tightly closed and she sobbed as she fought to breathe.

“Violet, come here.” Dawson pulled her against him again. There on her kitchen floor, he knelt beside her, and held her firmly to his chest. “Vi, I promise you. He won’t hurt you. I’m here and I’m staying here as long as I need to - to make sure you’re safe. That man will not come near you. I’ll see to it.” A tear soaked his lash, but he refused to allow any more to form. “I promise.”

That Tyler Adcock deserved to be in jail for ignoring the limits of that restraining order. Dawson made another mental note to print it out when he got back in his Impala. The computer in his patrol car had direct access into such files and he’d have a copy in less than ten minutes. But for now, he needed to help her calm down. He didn’t ever want to see her this afraid again.

THREE



Tyler Adcock stared at his phone. Who the hell was that Officer McBride and why was he with Violet? Had she called the cops? Just because Tyler had called her? He had every right in the world to speak to his wife. Who the hell was this pig telling him he had a restraining order and he had to contact her through written correspondence only? Tyler’s blood boiled. He clenched his fists and contemplated all the ways he could hurt this Officer McBride.

Violet seemed to have quite a band of protectors in this one hole cesspool of a town. There was no telling what lies she’d told them to make them surround her like this. First, that Samantha Gladstone said she had some sort of arrangement. He could only imagine what that meant. Obviously, she took Tyson to school for Violet.

What a negligent bitch! She couldn’t even get her lazy ass out of bed and bring their son to school. Tyler fumed, visualizing Violet lying in bed sleeping while Tyson got himself dressed and ready, this Samantha Gladstone would show up at Vi’s place and load Tyson in her car—

“Adcock!” Lucas Hart bellowed his name.

That man needed to show Tyler some respect. He didn’t deserve to be screamed at like he was some underling intern. Just ‘cause he’d only been with this production team six months, surely Hart knew what a talented camera man he was. Hart had been impressed with Tyler’s resume when Hart interviewed him. Tyler cut his eyes to where Hart stood. “Yeah, boss?”

“I’m putting together a team to start interviewing some of these folks today, I want you and Madison to pair up. I’ve got a schedule here and I’ll make sure the townspeople are available. We’ll probably just do all the filming from that bench outside Mayor Hal’s diner, but, listen, I’m telling you now, if that Mayor starts getting all up in your grill, don’t do anything other than letting me know. I’ll deal with His Royal Nosiness. All I want from you is great camera work and extreme politeness to ALL of the populous. You get me?”

Tyler’s eyes took on a hard edge of anger toward Hart. What did he think? Tyler was going to take a dump in front of the Mayor or in the middle of the diner? Like he didn’t know how to act when he was on the job? Big idiot. “So, you want I go take Maddy to the diner or is she already over there?” He looked around for the little twit. She could usually be found yakking with the other nitwits. But he didn’t see any of the females from the show.

A snarl curled one side of his lips. He’d worry about himself and the camera equipment. She would either show up where she was needed or he would text Hart that his special little interviewee whisperer hadn’t showed.

“I’ve already given the girls their schedule, you just make sure you have what you need and be at the diner by ten-thirty.”

Tyler feigned a smile and flashed a contradictory thumbs up. Lucas shot a look of irritation at Tyler but mirrored his thumbs up and sarcastic smile. Tyler rolled his eyes with great disgust as he turned his back on his boss and set about preparing the equipment, memory cards, and extra batteries.

Once that was completed, he shrugged the leather strap over his shoulder and looked around for Maddy. He had to admit she wasn’t bad to work with. At least, she wasn’t hard on his eyes. She had a cute little tush and when she wore those tight T-shirts, he didn’t mind her well rounded implants.

Tyler smiled with his thoughts about Madison’s cute little body. Unlike Violet. After Tyson was born, she made no effort to lose all that baby fat. She just let herself stay all blubbery and disgusting. All she cared about was sitting on her butt, holding that baby. Oh sure, Tyler was thrilled to have a son, but he didn’t have the tit. Seemed like that was all that kid wanted. He’d have to wait till the boy got older and he could toss a football with him or pitch a baseball at him while he swung a bat. The boy ought to be about that age now.

Of course, Violet had probably made a panty-waste out of him, never putting him in any Kids, Inc. sports or rough housing around with him. Tyler meant to make sure his son had a real man to play with and learn what it meant to be a manly man.

Restraining order or no restraining order, Tyler was determined to get back into his son’s life. Violet had married him ‘til death do us part, and he aimed to make her keep that vow. Those divorce papers had been Angelina’s idea, not his, and since that bitch had cheated on him, she had no claim on his life or his decisions anymore.

Violet was his wife and she’d soon figure out he was the one wearing the pants and she had to obey his demands. He’d earn her respect through love or fear, he didn’t care which. He’d get to spend time with his son whether she agreed to it or not. No overweight cookie cutter female would keep him from making sure his son was being raised right and proper.

With that decision planted in the back of his thoughts, Tyler began walking down the street that framed the Phantom Horse Bridge Park and the school parking lot where they had parked their vehicles. The diner was just a short walk over to the next street and he’d go over to get set up and wait for the first interviewee to show up. Besides, he needed to determine the best place for lighting and get the camera’s f-stop and white lighting set for a well-recorded interview. All Madison had to do was ask questions and let the interviewees spill their guts. It was Tyler’s skill with the camera that would make the recording usable or not.



Violet closed her shop at three o’clock as always. She had Leanne’s afternoon delivery in her car. She’d take it by after picking up Tyson. The oven had taken all afternoon to get it properly cleaned from the CO2 Officer McBride had sprayed into it. She was tired and ached from the base of her head to the tail of her spine. Tyler being in town hadn’t helped with the tension in her back, but the oven cleaning was what had really done her in.

She pulled up to Tyson’s school and realized she couldn’t park in the teacher’s lot. It was full of those black Hummers and a few other cars which she assumed were the paranormal team’s own personal vehicles. Especially that red Mustang. Everybody in town had talked about that Lucas Hart and his red Mustang.

Worried eyes roamed the lot as she drove by. She circled the corner and parked behind Samantha’s white Mitsubishi. After the encounter with Tyler this morning, Sam would keep Tyson in her room until Vi got there to pick him up. There would be no playing in the school grounds until she got there. Not while his dad was in town.

She pulled her emergency brake and slipped out of the smart car. She had had it wrapped with the full-body appliqué for cars that made it look like a pink strawberry cupcake with Sweet Cheeks Bakery wrapped around from her driver’s door, across the back, and ending at the passenger’s door. She thought it was such a cute idea to advertise her business anytime she drove around town. Now, with Tyler in town, it felt like a beacon crying out, “Here I am! Come follow me anywhere I go!”

She swallowed and locked her door. Her eyes roved left and right as she made her way across the soccer field, making sure Tyler had not seen her. She made it to the building without incident and let out a sigh of relief when she slipped through the side doors closest to Sam’s room. Tyson sat coloring quietly when she entered and Sam looked up with a happy smile on her face.

“Hey.” Sam whispered.

Vi returned her smile and Tyson leaped up from his oversized desk. “Mom!”

She held her arms out and he ran into them. She squeezed her son into her waist and thanked God above he was alright.

“How’d he do?” She asked Sam.

“He did fine. You know Tyson. He’s such a good student. It doesn’t matter where he is, he’s going to work hard and get all his assignments finished.”

Vi nodded. Her throat felt restricted with emotion which kept her from thanking Sam for watching out for her son. Tyson released her waist and gathered his backpack. He had a library book and a book report paper to do tonight, but he’d finished everything else in Aunt Sammy’s room since he didn’t have any of his friends to distract him.

Vi watched him scoop what he needed into his backpack and considered telling Sam about Officer McBride’s unusual behavior today.

Samantha sensed Vi’s need to talk. She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “What is it, Vi?”

Vi smiled sardonically. “Chief Gibson came by today to tell me he would have an officer patrolling my neighborhood more closely. He made me promise to call nine-one-one if Tyler tried anything.”

“Well, good. And please promise me, too, you’ll do what Chief Gibson said.”

Vi blushed. “I will. And so, Officer Dawson McBride came by to let me know he had been assigned to me, I mean to my neighborhood.”

“Oh, Officer McGorgeous will be watching out for you, huh?”

Vi’s blushed deeper into a dark cherry hue. She giggled. “Yes, but today he really made me mad.”

“What? How?” Sam leaned against her desk, readying herself for what she expected to be an entertaining story. By the time Vi had told about the whole burned cupcakes and fire extinguisher fiasco, Sam was laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. Vi, too, gave in to the jocularity and laughed to the point she was hiccupping.

Tyson couldn’t help but laugh even though he didn’t understand the humor in the story his mother had told. But she and Aunt Sammy seemed so happy, he couldn’t help but to laugh and feel happy, too.

Sam finally sobered and looked into Vi’s eyes. “Why don’t you call Officer McBride and invite him for dinner. After all, if the man was willing to sit outside your apartment and make sure you are alright, the least you could do is feed him. Make one of those Le Cordon Bleu meat pies that you make. If that doesn’t persuade the man to ask you out, nothing well. You know what the old wives of Gladstone say, ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’.”

Vi blushed again. “I don’t know…” she glanced at Tyson who had sat down to read his library book.

He was very accustomed to his mom visiting at great length when she got around Aunt Sammy, or Aunt Leanne, or Aunt Mysti… or any of her friends in town. He never minded, as long as he had a book to read, and he generally always had a book or two in his backpack, or in the back seat of her car, or in his room at home.

“I thought a woman should wait until the man made the first move.” Vi glanced at the door. She still felt like she should keep verifying Tyler wasn’t about to sneak up on her.

“Nonsense. This is two-thousand-seventeen, Vi. We won that battle when our mothers were young. Besides, some men just need that nudge, and I think mister McGorgeous is just such a man.” She tsked her tongue. “Come on, Vi, what have you got to lose?”

“But with Tyler in town, I’m worried—“

“All the more reason to have the police officer in your apartment for dinner, Violet. You couldn’t be any safer than that, having the very officer assigned to your neighborhood relaxing in your home, eating dinner, and maybe staying to watch a movie, or… whatever.” Now Sam was blushing. “You know what I mean.”

That was a preview of Phantom Rescue. To read the rest purchase the book.

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