Winter Prey

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kymbria James gazed down at the tiny seven-month-old child sleeping amidst pink blankets and sheets, little hands curled beside her silky black hair. Only the dim glow of two night lights lit the room, but outside, a full moon silvered snow and reflected through the curtain-covered windows, adding a measure of illumination to the crib.

Kymbria couldn't do this.

She had to do it.

Stoically, Kymbria clenched her fists and fought the urge to lean down and brush her lips over the satiny forehead. Most of the time, Risa slept soundly, her tummy full, her need for loving and touching satisfied by either Kymbria or her mother, Niona. Other nights, the slightest sound would bring the baby wide awake - and Risa was a cranky waker. In a piercing cry, she demanded attention, then immediately settled into babbling and waving her arms at whoever answered the call. Many nights Kymbria and Niona met over the crib, each stifling a yawn and reaching for the baby. Tonight, Kymbria fervently hoped to leave without notice.

She glanced at the connecting doors. Past the one across the hallway, her mother slept; Kymbria claimed her old room beside Risa's. They both left the doors ajar so they could hear the smallest peep of discontent from the baby. For the next couple weeks - oh, lord, let it only be a couple weeks - Niona alone would answer that call, should it come.

Despite her valiant efforts, a tear slipped down Kymbria's cheek. Her arms ached with the suppressed yearning to gather the warm bundle up and nestle her nose in the downy hair. No matter how many times she had heard that no words on earth could describe a mother's love for her child, the actual experience was awe-inspiring.

Who would have thought she could love this child so deeply? Risa was adopted through an extensive measure of blood, sweat and tears of hope, fear and doubt. Since her teens, Kymbria had lived with the knowledge she would never bear her own child. Then hope sprang free that she could open the barrier over the hole where she had buried all the love she longed to cascade on a daughter or son. Along with it, though, also came fear all her pleas to the powers holding Risa's future in their hands would fall on bureaucratic deafened ears. Later, different doubt quickly followed, doubt of her ability to be the type of mother who would help Risa carve out a wonderful life for herself.

But all paled before the deep burn of love Kymbria felt at only a slight passing thought of her new daughter, let alone what the actual sight of this infant did to her emotions.

None of the previous problems and insecurities mattered now. She was well on her way to being Risa's mother, both legally and in her heart - if she could only emerge victorious in what had to be her final mission. The most important mission she'd undertaken in her entire life, including twenty-two years as an Army RN counseling post traumatic stress soldiers horridly damaged from their encounters in hostile situations.

She gave in at least to the urge to gently pull the blanket up a bit higher on Risa.

"Sleep well, angel," Kymbria barely whispered. "Mommy loves you."

~~~

Three-and-a-half hours later, Kymbria was a hundred-and-fifty miles north of Duluth, Minnesota, where her mother and daughter slept. Her only companion in the four-wheel-drive SUV was Scarlet, curled on the passenger seat. The Irish Setter had been with them since shortly after Risa arrived, adopted into their family while Lieutenant Colonel Kymbria James, R.N., Combat Nurse, battled her emotional demons with an Army-assigned psychiatrist. She'd debated about bringing the dog, since Risa would miss it, but her need for at least something from the pleasurable side of her life won out.

By now, Kymbria had planned on being at the cabin where the family had spent pleasant summers getting in touch with their Native American roots after nine months in the white world. But - perhaps a subconscious blunder - she had fallen asleep and forgotten to set the alarm. The bright star pinpricks were fading as the sky grayed, and soon the first signs of color would blush on the eastern horizon to her right. Already she could make out the piles of snowdrifts on the side of the road, huge pines and leafless hardwoods towering into the sky.