RESCUED BY A HERO

  Personal Protector Series

  SJ Clarke & J.L. Madore

  CONTENTS

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Also by JL Madore

  Copyright © 2023 Dauntless Publishing Inc

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Cover Design: BookCoversbyMelody

  Note: The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

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  Dauntless Publishing Inc — 1st ed.

  ISBN: 978-1-990853-64-7

  FOREWORD

  Dear Readers:

  Rescued by a Hero was previously released in traditional publishing as Mind Over Matter and won several awards, the most notable of which was the RWA Maggie Award of Excellence.

  While the story has remained the same, a new cover and some dynamic changes have given it a fresh new read.

  Enjoy.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Rebecca’s world crashed the day her daughter disappeared. Most people believed Bree was dead. When they ran into Rebecca, they didn’t know what to say, so they avoided her. They acted like her identity disappeared three years ago, along with her child.

  Jenna Cowling nodded in the grocery store, unable to meet Rebecca’s eyes or hide the pity in her own. Donald Rumford, the pharmacist over on Grand, peered over glasses wedged on the end of his bulbous nose. His sad gaze told her he suspected the truth, that the drugs he sold her were all that kept her going. On her way to Ruby’s diner, Rebecca stopped at the police station to see Chief Bains. He put his coffee down as she approached.

  “How you doing today, Chief?”

  “Doin’ just fine, Miss Rebecca.”

  Rebecca reached into her tote and pulled out a paper bag. “Bought more bananas than I needed. Take them home to your wife. I know how much you like her banana bread.”

  He smiled and rubbed his stomach. “Perhaps a little too much.” He dropped the paper sack in his desk drawer. “Wish I had something new to tell you. Come by again next week. I’ll save a piece for you.”

  Rebecca nodded and headed out, like she did every week. She was trapped in a nightmare that refused to ease its grip. The only way out was to give up, and that wasn’t happening.

  She left the local police station, turned onto Main Street, and strode down the wide sidewalk. It was early, but the air hung with the promise of another hot August day in Arizona.

  Old Jim Grimley paused mid-rock on his front porch swing, where he sat with his wife at this time every day. Rebecca nodded and got a shallow tilt of the chin from both in return before Jim pushed off with his foot and started them rocking again. “Miss Rebecca needs to face facts,” he muttered when she passed.

  Rebecca hiked her bag higher on her shoulder and kept walking. She’d lost a daughter, and maybe a bit of her mind, but her hearing was sharp as ever.

  The bell jangled as Rebecca pulled open the door to Ruby’s.

  “Mornin’ Becca,” Ruby said as she grabbed the pencil tucked into her nest of bleached curls and an order book from her apron pocket. “Your usual?”

  “Good morning. That would be great. Thanks.”

  “Be right back with your coffee.”

  Rebecca set her purse on the bench seat and looked around. Orange vinyl and cracked linoleum didn’t deter people for long. Ruby’s food lived up to its stellar reputation and there was a decent sized crowd for this early in the day.

  Rebecca sat alone in the corner booth, in the same spot where she and Bree ate breakfast every Saturday morning. Several regulars glanced her way. More than a few leaned their heads close together and began whispering.

  “Sad, so sad,” Gayle Crawford said in a loud whisper. “She isn’t quite right since her baby girl disappeared.” Then she went back to her weekend special and her normal life. Gayle’s sister lowered her gaze and pushed her plate and her discomfort aside.

  Heaven forbid the ugliness of the truth got close enough to touch her.

  A few strangers sat along the front windows, dotted among the usual Saturday morning crew. Donna Mayhew held the latest best-seller in one hand, and a bacon and tomato on well-done toast in the other.

  Norman Parks coughed into his monogrammed hanky, then folded it before he tucked it back into his pocket. He peered at his custom order of poached eggs, nodded his approval, then draped the paper napkin across his lap.

  Joshua Bishop rubbed his belly while savoring the last of his coffee and smiled over at her.

  We’re all such creatures of habit. The same people, ordering the same food, sitting at the same tables.

  Rebecca scanned the headlines in the weekly paper someone had left on her table, ready to catch up on the latest happenings. No doubt she’d heard about them already, given that news flew between lips faster than print could meet paper in Cutter’s Gulch.

  Stolen car abandoned; local teens suspected. Blood Donor Clinic at Town Hall Saturday 10-2. Friends of the Library used book sale next week. Just as she thought, old news.

  “What excitin’ plans have you got for today?” Ruby asked, setting the coffee cup and a small creamer of milk on the table.

  “Just finished a contract this morning. I think I’ll give myself a break before starting the next.” A family of six came in, tourists gearing up before heading out to Wanagi Peak. It was high season for the ghost town at the base.

  “Hold that thought.” Ruby chuckled as she headed over to grab a booster seat for the energetic toddler eager to escape his mother’s hand.

  Rebecca set the paper to the side, watching the family as she reached for the milk. Distracted as she was, her forearm bumped the edge of the paper, and she tipped the little creamer onto its side. “Well, damn.”

  Jumping back as far as the bench seat allowed, she used her napkin to mop up the worst of the spill. She glanced around for some help, but Ruby had her hands full, taking orders. Rebecca got up, grabbed a cloth and the milk carton from the nearby workstation and brought both back to her table.

  She finished the cleanup, and then refilled the creamer and added milk to her coffee.

  She settled, sipped, and smiled. “Still nice and hot.”

  The photo of a missing child on the side of the milk carton caught her eye and the axis of her world tilted. Her vision blurred as a familiar pain stabbed at her temples. She pressed her hands to both sides of her head, but it wouldn’t ease the pressure.

  Nothing did.

  She’d been through these enough times to know what came next. Rebecca scooted over as far as she could to hide in the depths of the corner booth, grateful the other customers kept Ruby busy.

  The face she’d seen on the milk carton hovered before her, similar yet different—the child was six, maybe seven years old…

  The child huddled in a corner, her long brown curls limp and dull. Smudges on her face spread when she used a dirty forearm to swipe away tears. A gash bled through the tear in her dress. A flickering light illuminated the dark room, hinting at secrets in the shadows. Water dripped, slow and steady, like a leaky faucet. The stench of urine and human waste filled the air. At the shuffle of approaching footsteps, the child’s face jerked up, eyes wide in terror. A deep voice crept out of the darkness. “It’s time.”

  “—Rebecca? Did you hear me?” Ruby’s voice penetrated the fog surrounding Rebecca’s mind, and she blinked out of the vision and back to the diner.

  “W-What?” She glanced around the room. The tourist family was set
tled and sat waiting for their breakfast. “I’m sorry…What did you say?”

  Ruby’s gaze narrowed as she set the first plate down. “You okay, hon? You were in another world there for a minute.”

  “I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well last night, I guess.” She forced a grin and shifted to sit in front of her breakfast. “Good thing you caught me before I nodded off and started drooling into my coffee.” The mention of caffeine drew Rebecca’s gaze back to the milk carton.

  The child’s innocent face stared back. She leaned in to read the caption under the photo. Nicole Wilson: missing six years.

  That was even before Bree.

  “What happened here?” Ruby picked up the soggy napkin.

  Rebecca tried to rein in her mental chaos and waved away the concern. “Just a little spill. Hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to the towel and some more milk. You had your hands full, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”

  “Honey, it’s no problem, but you didn’t have to. It’s my job to take care of things like that.”

  “Not to worry.” Rebecca looked down at the pancakes and fruit and knew little would make it past her lips. “Breakfast looks delicious, as usual,” she lied.

  With a worried smile, Ruby set the second plate—a child-sized order of pancakes—at the empty seat on the opposite side of the table. “Let me know if you need a refill.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Ruby hesitated for a moment, but when the bell dinged behind the counter, she hustled off to deliver the next order.

  Left to herself, Rebecca stared down at her breakfast. Her stomach roiled at the thought of eating after what she’d just seen. Nausea and a headache overwhelmed her. She needed to get home…to decipher what the vision meant…but with Ruby’s concerned gaze monitoring her, leaving the diner would be difficult.

  Forcing a smile, she waved her fork at her friend. Not that it did any good. Ruby’s frown wouldn’t ease until she was sure Rebecca was taking care of herself. With little choice, Rebecca cut the pancakes and placed a small piece between her lips.

  Once Ruby turned to clear Gayle’s table, Rebecca discreetly spat the bite into a napkin. She spent another few minutes cutting and moving food around, hiding small bits beneath the second pancake.

  As soon as Ruby went through the swinging door to the kitchen, Rebecca threw some bills on the table and made her escape.

  Her first deep breath came when she sat safely inside her car, where she’d parked at the other end of Main Street. Home. She had to hold it together until then. She shoved the key into the ignition and crossed her fingers.

  When she turned the key, she groaned at the dull grind that met her ears.

  “Crap. Not today!” Rebecca cursed herself for not taking the car in to Joshua when it started acting up. She didn’t have time for this. Hands shaking, she tried again.

  When the engine finally caught, she slipped it into gear and got moving.

  As she pulled into her driveway, the edge of another vision crept in. “Shit. One more minute, come on, one more.”

  She hurried out of the car and up the walk, the pressure in her head almost blinding. Fumbling at the keyhole, she tried to get inside, her hands shaking too hard to fit the key in the lock. The moment she crossed the threshold, she fell to her knees.

  Pain sliced through her mind. Worse this time.

  What the hell? She’d never had two visions so close together.

  Her world faded, and a vision of her daughter took its place.

  Bree’s dolly laid on the floor in a room of shadows. She sat, her chin resting on drawn-up knees. “Where are you Mommy? I want to go home.” The shadow crept forward and opened to swallow both the light and Bree.

  As her world receded to blackness, Rebecca draped an arm over her face and sobbed.

  So damn close.

  Rebecca rolled as her stomach gave up its meager contents. With her palms pressed against the cool tile of her entryway, she focused on breathing through the worst of the nausea. When the cold sweat and dizziness passed, she crawled back to the open door and shoved it closed.

  With her privacy reclaimed, she collapsed onto the cold tile, shaking with sobs. The memory of losing Sabrina burned in her mind forever. But these fresh images—they made it so much worse.

  Late morning sun shone through the windows by the time Rebecca finally refocused. She cleaned up the mess in the foyer, tossed her soiled clothes into the washing machine, and headed to the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

  Revived by the steam and ready to face the world again, Rebecca poured a glass of iced tea and curled up in the big chair in the living room. With her chin rested on her knees, she closed her eyes and tried to make sense of the morning’s events.

  Break it down. Concentrate on one thing at a time. Tackle the vision at Ruby’s first.

  Who are you, Nicole Wilson, and why are you in my head? When nothing came to her, Rebecca pulled her laptop over and clicked on the missing-children database icon on the screen. A quick search brought up the case page.

  Nicole Wilson of Sacramento, taken six years ago last month, would have been nine on her next birthday. The authorities classified her case as a stranger abduction.

  Rebecca sipped her iced tea, rolling an ice cube in her mouth, and pondered the similarities between Nicole’s case and Bree’s. Both were girls, taken by strangers, three years apart, of about the same age.

  She didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Was it possible these kidnappings were connected? A staggering two thousand children went missing every day in the United States alone. The two cases likely had nothing to do with one another. Nothing, except for showing up in her visions on the same day.

  Rebecca allowed fragile hope to emerge. Her baby girl looked good. Unlike Nicole, Bree appeared healthy and clean. Older. How she’d come to her in the vision is the way she imagined she’d look if she was standing there today.

  A frisson of energy raced up Rebecca’s spine as the meaning of that hit.

  “Bree is older!” Rebecca’s mind whirled as tears flowed. “Oh—she’s alive.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Monday morning, Rebecca stared at the sleek office tower, then dropped her forehead against the steering wheel. Damn it! She’d rather be anywhere but there. It galled her to ask for help from yet another man who gave up on Bree. While she was stuck in a living hell, the men who were supposed to be committed to finding her daughter had moved on to easier cases, ones they might actually be able to solve.

  They were polite when she inquired. They assured her they’d let her know if anything new turned up. But they weren’t looking…not really.

  Bree is alive. Would he believe her? Would what she’d seen in her vision convince him to put her daughter’s case back on the top of his ever-present to-do list?

  She’d make him face the facts: her visions had returned, showing Bree as she looked today.

  The image of seeing her baby at seven years old made Rebecca’s heart swell and her breath catch. Her beautiful baby girl. Sandy brown curls framed a face free of the pudgy swell of baby fat. She’d lost a tooth. Not one of the front and center teeth most kids lose first, but an eye tooth.

  Bree’s seventh birthday was next month.

  Every September Rebecca baked a cake, lit the candles, and wished the same wish. She could never bring herself to eat a piece. She bought her presents, wrapped them, and when the day passed, she put them on Bree’s bed in her room.

  This year, Rebecca vowed they’d blow out the candles together, eat until their bellies burst, and open all the presents waiting for her.