Irene Brand_Yuletide_01 by Yuletide Peril

trespassed on the property,” he concluded, “this must be an effort to scare intruders away. I don’t know if it’s safe for you to go any farther.”
    Lance’s words coming on the heels of the slashed tires alarmed Janice as nothing had ever done. She staggered against the gate, and Lance reached out a hand to steady her. She shook her head.
    “I’m all right,” she struggled to say. Through tight lips, she told him about the written message she’d received warning her to stay away from Stanton.
    “Maybe I should have heeded the warning. I don’t mind risking my own life to claim what belongs to me, but if anything happened to me, Brooke would be all alone!” Swallowing with difficulty, she continued, “And last night, the tires on my car were slashed. Chief Goodman is investigating.”
    Lance frowned and his blue eyes darkened with anger.
    “Every time I decide I can make a home in Stanton,” Janice continued, “something else happens. I don’t know what to do.”
    “What do you want to do?” Lance asked.
    “Forget I’ve ever heard of this place, take Brooke and move so far away that no one has ever heard of my family.”
    A gleam of interest in his eyes, Lance persisted, “But what are you going to do?”
    Janice forced herself to remember the biblical promise, “God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power.” If anything happened to her, surely God would take care of Brooke.
    “Stay here, claim my property and find out who’s trying to drive me out of town.”
    Smiling, Lance opened the gate and stepped aside for her to enter. “Then be my guest,” he said. Swiftly, he stepped in front of her. “On second thought, perhaps I’ll not be a gentleman today. I’ll walk in front—you stay behind me.” He handed his car keys to Janice. “If anything happens to me, run as fast as you can and bring the chief of police.”
    Janice laid her hand on his arm. “This is my problem. I should take the risk, not you. Why are you going to all this trouble for me?”
    A look of bewilderment in his eyes, Lance shook his head slowly. “I really don’t know.”

Chapter Four
    J anice’s face flushed. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I’m practically a stranger to you. I don’t know why you’d put your life on the line for me.”
    “I don’t understand it, either,” he said, a hint of wonder in his voice. “Let’s just say it’s because you need help, and it’s my Christian duty to help you.”
    “Except for the years I spent at VOH, I’ve taken care of myself and Brooke without any help. I’d like to think I can still do it, but I’m in over my head now. I can’t manage alone anymore.”
    “Then let’s check out your property and go from there. Be careful.”
    With the machete, Lance cleared a narrow path for them to follow until they came to the copse of evergreens. Dried needles matted the ground and walking was easier. Janice enjoyed a sense of pride to know that this property actually belonged to her. The grounds had been badly neglected and it was almost like walking through a wilderness, but she believed the lawn could be restored to its original splendor.
    It was hot and stuffy under the trees, and Lance stopped towipe his face with a handkerchief. Some of the underbrush consisted of sturdy brier vines that were difficult to cut. Janice felt guilty when she noticed several scratches on his arms. He breathed deeply and took a swig of water from the bottle he carried. Looking around, he asked, “Who’s been responsible for looking after this property?”
    “Nobody, apparently. Mr. Santrock was administrator of Uncle John’s estate, but he said he hasn’t been here for years. Perhaps he thought the house was too far gone to need checking, and he may be right,” she added, when Lance hacked down a large multiflora rosebush and she had a sweeping view of the house.
    Paint had peeled from the structure, vines grew all over the front porch, and several windows on the