Page 21 of Mistletoe and Malice
“Military Police, Special Ops. Army.”
To Colton’s consternation, she brought that dogged focus to him. “Were you in law enforcement before this job?”
“Secret Service. Almost seven years.”
“Impressive. Why’d you leave it?”
“Got shot protecting a visiting dignitary.” He swallowed the acid taste the memory always brought with it. “Decided it wasn’t worth the pay and started looking into other ways I could use my skills.”
“Was it bad? Your injury?”
“Bullet nicked my spine. Four months of rehab.”
Trevor glanced over his shoulder at him. “Seriously? I didn’t know that.”
He should’ve never mentioned it. He didn’t share his personal business with people he hardly knew. Riley Hudson must excel at pulling stuff out of witnesses on the stand because he’d opened up like a cracked egg after two simple questions.
“One of the charities I’m involved with is Small Steps,” she said instead of pressing for more. Thankfully. “We raise funds for the long-term care of patients with spinal cord injuries. We also fund research. You should consider getting involved on some level. Time, money. However you see fit, since your outcome was so favorable.”
“I’ll look into it.” Their eyes held another moment. “Are you always so straightforward?”
She shrugged. “I’m a firm believer that those of us who are fortunate owe something to those who haven’t been. And I don’t just mean money. You were blessed with good health after what could have been a devastating injury. So, you owe something because you were delivered from it. See?”
“Sure.”
“Besides, I’ve found it’s not only good for those who receive, but for the soul of the person giving. I offer people the opportunity to better their lives by getting involved in charities. It’s certainly enriched mine. As if by focusing on someone besides myself, I’m getting out of the way to let God work in my life. It’s when I start telling Him how things should go that I get myself into a mess.”
“Been there, done that,” Trevor threw over his shoulder.
Colton finally pulled his eyes from her to the street view ahead. Another thing he hadn’t known about her—her strong faith, which could explain why she appeared to be completely unfazed by Saturday’s incident. Why she felt their efforts to keep her safe were a waste of time and resources.
Although Colton was fast coming to the conclusion that not a whole lot scared Miss Riley Hudson.
“So, how’d you end up with Petersen?”
He resisted the urge to sigh. How much longer before they reached their destination? “Mack was the Assistant Director of the Secret Service when I went through FLETC. Oversaw the training of new agents.”
Her brow crinkled. “What’s … fletsy?”
“Federal Law Enforcement Training Center. Mack heard from a mutual friend I was no longer with the Service and called me a little over six years ago. He’d left a few years before I did and started his own private security operations company. Offered me a job.” A gift when he thought he might be washed out of the protection biz for good.
“What about family? Are you from Houston?”
“Isn’t this all a little personal?” he countered instead of answering her question. Most of their clients were content to let them do their jobs. They didn’t have to be buddies.
“You follow me everywhere, you’ve checked out all my friends, my co-workers, know what I’m doing every minute. I’m not asking what your deepest thoughts are. Do you have a family? That’s pretty tame, isn’t it?”
This time, he gave in to the urge and sighed. Nosy woman. “I’m not married, if that’s what you mean. My parents live in Spring. Dad’s a retired pastor, and I have a sister. Married with three kids.”
Her face lit up. “Your dad was a pastor? What church?”
“My folks founded Faith Community Church in our living room thirty-two years ago. I was five and assumed all preachers and their families lived in their churches, until I learned otherwise.”
“That’s cute.”
Cute? He supposed at one time in his life, he might’ve been considered cute. Maybe as a three-foot-tall mini-human. “My brother-in-law Micah is the head pastor there now.”
Her eyes widened. “Your brother-in-law is Micah Thompson?” She snapped her fingers. “And your dad is Fred Blankenship, who retired, what? Two years ago?”
