Hope White - Small Town Protector

“Sure,” he said, then caught himself. “I mean, no, thanks. I take it black.”

“It’s gonna be a few minutes for the pancakes because of the distraction, but it’ll be worth the wait.”

“Thanks.” A distraction? Is that what they called it?

Garrett got out of his booth and started for Lana’s table, but Scooner and his friends beat him to it. Garrett wished he’d gotten there first. Scooner shifted next to her in the booth.

“I’m fine, go on.” She shoved at Scooner’s shoulder. “Stop hovering.”

“I’ll escort you home.”

“Thanks, but I haven’t eaten my pancakes yet and you guys are done with your meal.”

“I’ve got this,” Garrett said, shifting into the booth across from her. “I need to ask Miss Burns a few more questions anyway.”

He held her gaze, trying to figure out if she was relieved or more irritated that yet another man was strong-arming his way into her protective services.

“And who are you?” one of Scooner’s friends asked.

“He’s the FBI agent I told you about,” Scooner explained to his friend. “Agent Drake, this is Anderson Greene and Bill Roarke.”

Garrett shook hands with the men.

Anderson wore wire-framed glasses and leaned on a cane, and Bill had jet-black hair, trimmed short, and a mustache and had a notebook tucked under his arm.

“If there’s anything we can do to help with the case…” Anderson offered.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“For the record, I made sure Lana was safe in her apartment and figured she’d stay there for the night,” Scooner said in apology.

Garrett glanced at Lana for an explanation.

“Mom called, worried sick about what happened so I had to go calm her down. Then I was too hyped up to sleep, so I took a walk and stopped in for some pancakes.”

“Gentlemen, thanks for your concern, but I’ve really got this,” Garrett said, hoping they’d take the hint.

Scooner didn’t move at first. The kind of guy you definitely wanted on your side.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Garrett said.

“Good luck keeping her there.” Scooner slipped out of the booth, and the men wandered out of the restaurant.

Garrett directed his attention to Lana, who looked oddly calm considering what just happened. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or…”

“Or…?”

“Your interaction with Michael could have gone a completely different way.”

“I suppose.” She glanced out the front window and fingered a silver cross dangling from her necklace. He noticed her hand tremble slightly, probably from the adrenaline rush.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She cracked a wry smile. “I’m fantastic.”

“Miss Burns, I study human behavior for a living. Try again.”

* * *

The handsome agent wasn’t letting Lana off that easy. Handsome? Really, Lana? After what happened to you, you’re crushing on the enigmatic agent with the intense brown eyes?

“Lana?” he prodded.

She stretched out her hands on the Formica table to ground herself. “For someone who found a dead body earlier tonight, and had to order pancakes while being threatened at knife-point, I’d say I’m doing pretty good.”

“What made you do it? Talk to him like that?” he said, his voice softer than before.

“I couldn’t risk him threatening someone else who’d pull a stupid move and get hurt. Like Scooner.” She shuddered. “He means well, but that could have been a disaster.”

“Let me get this straight. You put yourself in danger to protect a former navy SEAL, trained to do battle with the enemy?”

“Well, when you say it like that, I sound wacky.”

“And you assumed you could talk the teenager out of stabbing you because…?”

“You said I had good instincts,” she shot back.

With a frustrated shake of his head, he sipped his coffee.

Truth was, only now did she realize what could have happened. But Lana believed in the human spirit and the grace of God. She knew danger when she saw it, and Michael wasn’t dangerous. He was desperate.

“Michael didn’t want to hurt anyone,” she offered. “He was hungry.”

“And you knew this how?”

“I saw it in his eyes.” She shrugged. “He made a bad decision, but we all deserve a second chance.”

“You could have been seriously injured. Are you always this impulsive?”

“Impulsive, huh? I’ll have to add that to the list. It’s a long one depending on who you ask. If you asked my sister, she’d say I was disorganized, overly trusting and persuasive, bordering on manipulative, whereas the ex-boyfriend said I was controlling, too frugal and obstinate about the wrong things. At least in his opinion they were the wrong things.”

She was rambling. She knew it. With Michael she’d kept talking to distract him from doing something he’d regret but now, well, the full weight of what had just happened twisted her stomach into knots.

“But then, what do ex-boyfriends know, right?” she continued. “He also thought I should stop giving tours, sell my snack shop and get a real job, you know, like working at a call center or selling insurance. I could go back to school I guess, but I’ve only got a few thousand in savings and—”

“Breathe,” Agent Drake interrupted.

“What?”

“You’re going to pass out if you don’t take a breath. Am I making you nervous again? I could…” He motioned to get up.

“No.” She automatically reached out, but her hand came up short of his fingers, looped through his coffee mug handle.

Anna delivered Lana’s tea and glanced at the agent. “Oh, so you’re over here now?”

Agent Drake hesitated before answering.

“Yes, he’s joining me for dinner,” Lana said.

“You mean breakfast?” Anna smiled.

“That, too.”

“Pancakes should be out shortly.” Anna winked and breezed off.

Truth was, Lana hated eating alone and since her breakup with Vincent, she’d been doing a lot of that lately. Flying solo.

Flying solo? You could have had your wings clipped, girl.

But Lana had to help Michael. She recognized something in the teen’s eyes and it wasn’t the desire to hurt anyone. She’d seen it in Sketch’s eyes, her talented, seventeen-year-old computer assistant.

“I’m going with impressed,” the agent suddenly said.

She eyed him. “What?”

“I’m impressed by how you handled that teenager.”

“Wow, can I get a junior FBI badge or something?”

“Don’t push it.”

He looked surprised, like he hadn’t meant to utter the playful retort. She thought he might have even cracked a smile but couldn’t be sure. It would be a vast improvement on his permanent frown, his lips stretched into a thin, straight line.

“I’d like to ask a favor of you,” he said.

“Sure.”

“Promise me you’ll never do that again?”

“You mean…”

“Insinuate yourself into a dangerous situation like that.”

Lana dunked her tea bag in the hot water and sighed. He was asking the impossible. She couldn’t turn her back on someone who was in so much pain they were blinded to the beauty of life and the grace of God. She knew how precious life was, and how short it could be.

“I’m sorry, I can’t make that promise,” she said.

“May I ask why?”

“You may ask.”

“But you won’t tell me, will you?”

She shrugged.

“Ignoring a direct order. You’re definitely not getting that junior agent badge.”

She smiled to herself at his unexpected response. He wasn’t berating her for not answering; rather, he respected her space.

“Two orders of Boomer’s blueberry pancakes.” Anna slid a plate in front of Garrett, and a double order in front of Lana.