Chapter 19 #3
He dropped like a poleaxed steer at a slaughterhouse.
Mandy screamed again, but Tate was already talking her down.
“Hey, Mandy, it’s okay. You’re safe now and your daddy David is coming with the police, and your mommy Greta is waiting for you at your house.
My name is Tate. Your parents sent me to find you.
And I think you know Briar Lowe. She’s my really good friend.
You’re safe now, baby. I promise you’re safe. ”
The magic words for Mandy were David and Greta, but when he said Briar’s name too, that ended her panic.
When Tate picked her up, she went limp in his arms, exhausted from shock and fear. Tate was still holding Mandy and standing over Scott, making sure he didn’t come to and try to escape, when he heard shouts, then the sounds of running feet, and David’s voice, shouting over all of them.
“Mandy, it’s Daddy. I’m coming to get you.”
Tate stepped out into the hall with her in his arms. “Look. Daddy’s here now. You’re going to be okay.”
The look on David’s face was pure joy. She went from Tate’s arms to David’s, still sobbing.
“Is he in there?” David asked.
Tate nodded. “Laid out on the floor like a baby. It’s your son, Scott. Apparently, he wasn’t dead after all.”
David staggered. “My son?”
“The man said you stole me. He said I had to go live with him now. I didn’t know him, Daddy. I was so scared,” Mandy said.
The police swarmed the room and handcuffed the man as he was regaining consciousness.
The detective who’d questioned David was staring at the man on the floor in disbelief. “Never would have guessed that,” he said.
David glared. “Because you were looking so damn hard at me for the snatch. Thank God Briar suggested Tate.”
“Who’s Briar?” the detective asked.
“My assistant, remember. Do you ever pay attention? The woman I was talking to on the phone when you started in on me. She heard about Tate Bandy on the news and asked me if I wanted her to try and contact him. I said yes, send him. Remember?”
Tate walked past both of them. He’d done what he came to do, and the rest of this mess would be figured out in a court of law. He went back the way he’d come, through the tunnel and up into the Gregorys’ house and straight to where Greta was sitting.
“I found her. She’s okay. Your husband has her.”
Greta fell into his arms. “There will never be enough ways to say thank you. What about the man who took her? Please tell me he didn’t harm her.”
“It’s all good. He just scared her.”
“Who was it? Does David know him?” she asked.
“You both know him,” Tate said, then took the picture of Scott down from the mantel and handed it to her. “He’s not dead. But he’s going to wish he was before your husband gets through with him. I’ll let myself out.”
Greta stared at the photo, trying to grasp what she’d just been told. Moments later, David entered the room with Mandy in his arms.
“Mommy!” Mandy cried, and then she was in Greta’s arms.
Tate wasted no time leaving and called Briar on the way home.
She answered on the first ring. “Did you find her?” she asked.
“Yes. She’s okay, but it’s a long, drawn-out story, and the Gregorys have a lot to deal with. I’ll fill you in tonight.”
“Thank you, darlin’. I’m just so grateful that little girl wasn’t harmed, and that you found her so fast. Anything could have happened if he’d had her too long. Gotta go. The phone’s ringing again. See you tonight.”
“Can’t wait,” Tate said, and kept driving.
* * *
On Christmas Day Tate woke Briar up with a kiss and then laid a small, wrapped box between her bare breasts.
“Love of my life, wake up. It’s Christmas,” he said.
Briar opened one eye. “What did you just put on my chest?”
He laughed. “Open both eyes and look for yourself.”
She sat up in bed, scooted against the headboard, and then tore the paper off of the box. “Is it a ring?” she asked.
“I swear to all that’s holy,” he muttered, took the box out of her hands and opened it for her, revealing an engagement and a wedding ring.
“Briar Rose Lowe. I think it’s time we got married.
Will you do me the honor, or force me to live in sin?
It’s totally up to you because I’m game for either choice, but—”
“Stop talking and put one of those on my finger fast, before you change your mind,” she said.
He slipped the engagement ring on her finger. “My mind’s been made up about you since first grade. I just didn’t have a name to put with it.”
She crawled up into his lap. “Merry Christmas, Tate Bandy. Don’t mind if I do.”
They made love on the Crown of Thorns quilt, and when it was over, still wrapped in each other’s arms, Tate asked something of her he wasn’t sure she would take.
“I want you to keep your maiden name when we marry. It’s the only option I have left to protect you. You are a wonder in your own right, and wearing my last name will change how people see you. You deserve to be recognized for you…not who you married.”
She hadn’t thought of it like that, but saw his reasoning. “I understand, and I will do that for you. But our children will wear your name with pride, understood?”
He nodded. “Deal. If you want a big wedding, we could do it in Tennessee.”
She was silent. She didn’t have close friends or family and was thinking about having no one to walk her down the aisle. No mother to help her dress. And on that day, Tate’s parents belonged to him.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“To hear you say ‘I do,’ and I know what you’re feeling now, about your parents. Do you ever call home?”
“The day I got my first paycheck, I called Dad at the office to tell him I was sending back the credit card he’d given me for school, that I had a good job and I was fine.
He said, ‘You’re welcome. I’m proud of you.
’ I could hear Mariah’s voice in the background as he hung up.
He never called back, and I have no desire to let that energy back into my life.
And it’s snowing in the mountains of Tennessee.
Not a good time to travel, and I don’t want to wait another minute longer than I have to to be your wife. ”
“Justice of the peace?”
She turned toward him, cupped his face, and kissed his lips. “Please and thank you.”
“Happy New Year to us,” he said, and returned her kiss.
* * *
They were married in the courthouse with two clerks as witnesses. When Tate’s birthday rolled around on January 6, he had a wife, but no ring on his finger. He still wouldn’t tell the world that the most precious person in his life was now his wife.
Briar wore her rings with pride. It was legal proof she belonged to someone, and he belonged to her.
David Gregory noticed the rings and smiled.
He knew who had given them to her, but he wouldn’t have given up a name to save his life.
There still weren’t enough words to thank Tate Bandy for saving their girl.
Learning that his son, Scott, had faked his own death years ago because of a debt to a drug dealer was as hard to face as the death had been.
The added shock was that Scott was also wanted in three other countries, under two different names, for smuggling guns and drugs.
The fact Scott risked everything to kidnap his own daughter with the intent to drag her into a world so vile was the last straw.
The last thing he and Greta were told was that their son had been extradited to a South American prison and, when that sentence was served, would be sent to France to serve time for warrants there.
Mandy was their world, and they had Tate to thank for that.