A Christmas Miracle in Pajaro Bay (Pajaro Bay Series Book 6) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Barbara Cool Lee
right sides, slow, methodical, missing nothing.
No one spoke.
There was a tiny whimper from the manger.
The feet turned on a dime and strode quickly up the aisle toward her.
Lori threw the hood back and picked up the baby. "No!" she shouted.
She could hear the word echo to the rafters.
But the man came closer. A boy, really, probably not much older than Enrique had been. A boy so lost to the world that he would do this thing he'd been ordered to do without even questioning it.
She stood up, the newborn in her arms. "You don't want to do this," she said firmly. But it was in English, and the look on the boy's face showed he either didn't understand, or if he did, the words didn't reach him in his single-minded focus on his mission.
She stood there in the middle of the Christmas scene, surrounded by sputtering candles, her arms futilely cradling the baby.
The gun was huge. One bullet would travel through her body, her arms, and the infant. It was hopeless. Her arms clenched around the baby.
The baby fussed at the rough handling. One hand escaped from the cloak and reached up, toward the rafters.
The gun wavered. The man stared at the baby.
Lori looked down, and saw that a trick of the light made the candlelight appear to be held there, a golden glow cupped in that tiny palm.
Silence in the church, so drawn out that she thought she would scream just to break the tension.
Then the gun hit the floor with a clatter that echoed through the nave. The boy went down to his knees and put his palms over his face and cried.
Father Anselm came over then and knelt beside him. The boy didn't resist when the father put an arm around him and spoke soft words again. This time the boy just leaned against the father and cried.
Hector stood up and came over, picked up the gun and took it back to his seat. He sat holding the gun in his lap, gingerly, like it might bite him.
No one else moved until Captain Ryan and Deputy Joe and her own Matteo came through the big front doors of the church. Then the captain cuffed the boy and the father went with him as they took him out.
The boy looked back at the baby before he was led out the door, as if he wanted his last sight to be of that little hand holding the light.
----
T he Day After Christmas , 4 p.m.
I t was raining .
The rain seemed appropriate. Lori cradled the baby close to her while Matt held an umbrella over the three of them.
Father Anselm made it a short graveside service. The single shared grave was filled in by the sexton. Matt had said that a single anonymous grave would be less likely to be found by their enemies, and the Father had agreed that Inez and Ricky deserved to spend eternity together, since it was denied to them in life.
Dr. Lil was there, in black jeans and a black turtleneck that set off her snow-white hair. She didn't need to speak. Lori knew how hard she'd fought for those two young lives.
Matt and Lori and the baby stood to one side and watched the dirt cover the final resting place of Ricky and Inez. Just Ricky and Inez. No one knew their last names.
The father had helped them pick out a stone. When it arrived, it would simply read, Beloved . No names. No date. They didn't dare say anything more. Who knew what danger might come to the village some day in the future, searching for answers? Lori cuddled the baby closer. What would happen to her now?
Matt looked up and Lori caught the quick smile flash across his face.
"You're late," Matt whispered as a man came up to stand next to them.
Lori smiled too. George Asher had been closer to her husband than anyone, the one person he could trust in that world of darkness in which they'd spent their lives. Now they had both left that life, and the dark, handsome man standing next to them looked nothing like the flamboyant character he usually played when infiltrating criminal gangs.
George stood silently beside them until the service was completed.
It was over quickly. Dr. Lil left for the clinic, Father
No one spoke.
There was a tiny whimper from the manger.
The feet turned on a dime and strode quickly up the aisle toward her.
Lori threw the hood back and picked up the baby. "No!" she shouted.
She could hear the word echo to the rafters.
But the man came closer. A boy, really, probably not much older than Enrique had been. A boy so lost to the world that he would do this thing he'd been ordered to do without even questioning it.
She stood up, the newborn in her arms. "You don't want to do this," she said firmly. But it was in English, and the look on the boy's face showed he either didn't understand, or if he did, the words didn't reach him in his single-minded focus on his mission.
She stood there in the middle of the Christmas scene, surrounded by sputtering candles, her arms futilely cradling the baby.
The gun was huge. One bullet would travel through her body, her arms, and the infant. It was hopeless. Her arms clenched around the baby.
The baby fussed at the rough handling. One hand escaped from the cloak and reached up, toward the rafters.
The gun wavered. The man stared at the baby.
Lori looked down, and saw that a trick of the light made the candlelight appear to be held there, a golden glow cupped in that tiny palm.
Silence in the church, so drawn out that she thought she would scream just to break the tension.
Then the gun hit the floor with a clatter that echoed through the nave. The boy went down to his knees and put his palms over his face and cried.
Father Anselm came over then and knelt beside him. The boy didn't resist when the father put an arm around him and spoke soft words again. This time the boy just leaned against the father and cried.
Hector stood up and came over, picked up the gun and took it back to his seat. He sat holding the gun in his lap, gingerly, like it might bite him.
No one else moved until Captain Ryan and Deputy Joe and her own Matteo came through the big front doors of the church. Then the captain cuffed the boy and the father went with him as they took him out.
The boy looked back at the baby before he was led out the door, as if he wanted his last sight to be of that little hand holding the light.
----
T he Day After Christmas , 4 p.m.
I t was raining .
The rain seemed appropriate. Lori cradled the baby close to her while Matt held an umbrella over the three of them.
Father Anselm made it a short graveside service. The single shared grave was filled in by the sexton. Matt had said that a single anonymous grave would be less likely to be found by their enemies, and the Father had agreed that Inez and Ricky deserved to spend eternity together, since it was denied to them in life.
Dr. Lil was there, in black jeans and a black turtleneck that set off her snow-white hair. She didn't need to speak. Lori knew how hard she'd fought for those two young lives.
Matt and Lori and the baby stood to one side and watched the dirt cover the final resting place of Ricky and Inez. Just Ricky and Inez. No one knew their last names.
The father had helped them pick out a stone. When it arrived, it would simply read, Beloved . No names. No date. They didn't dare say anything more. Who knew what danger might come to the village some day in the future, searching for answers? Lori cuddled the baby closer. What would happen to her now?
Matt looked up and Lori caught the quick smile flash across his face.
"You're late," Matt whispered as a man came up to stand next to them.
Lori smiled too. George Asher had been closer to her husband than anyone, the one person he could trust in that world of darkness in which they'd spent their lives. Now they had both left that life, and the dark, handsome man standing next to them looked nothing like the flamboyant character he usually played when infiltrating criminal gangs.
George stood silently beside them until the service was completed.
It was over quickly. Dr. Lil left for the clinic, Father
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