Guarding The Babies. Sandra Robbins

       ONE

      Something wasn’t right. Holly knew it the moment she opened her eyes. She lay still and squinted into the darkness that covered the bedroom. A puzzled frown pulled at her forehead. What had woken her?

      Outside, the wind stirred and a branch on the oak tree next to her bedroom window tapped on the glass pane. In the distance, she could hear a dog barking, but there were no other sounds in the night to alarm her.

      Then it hit her, and she bolted up in bed. It wasn’t the presence of sounds that had awakened her. It was the absence of them. She reached over and switched on the bedside light and peered at the baby monitor on the table.

      Silence greeted her.

      How could that be? She’d left the quiet music playing in the nursery when she’d put her one-year-old niece and nephew to bed, as it seemed to lull them to sleep. Now there was nothing coming over the monitor. Not even the quiet snuffling sound that Emma often made in her sleep.

      She flicked the covers back and bounded out of bed. Without waiting to put on her robe or shoes, she ran down the hallway to the bedroom where Emma and Ethan slept. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach when she caught sight of the closed door that she had left open before she’d retired to her own room.

      Fighting back the rising fear that threatened to overcome her, she threw the door open and switched on the overhead light. She didn’t know what she expected to find, but it wasn’t the sight of a figure dressed in black with a ski mask over his face, holding Ethan, and he was about to slip Ethan into the canvas baby carrier that lay against his chest. For a moment, all she could do was stare in shock. Then she went into full panic mode.

      “What are you doing?” she screamed.

      The man whirled around and dropped Ethan back in his bed. The room that moments ago had been sheathed in silence erupted with the startled cries of the awakened twins and a muttered exclamation of surprise from the intruder. He glared at her through the slits in his mask, and she cast a terrified glance from him to the two babies, who by now were standing in their cribs with their hands locked on the railings. Their alarmed cries echoed through the room.

      Before she could move, the man lunged toward her, and she reacted on instinct. She darted to the rocking chair that sat to her left and positioned herself behind it. A soft chuckle drifted to her ears. “That ain’t gonna protect you, lady.”

      He took another step in her direction, and she backed away toward the wall. As her foot touched the baseboard, she felt something nudge her back and remembered the broom she’d left there earlier.

      She wrapped both hands around the broom’s handle and held it in front of her like a sword, poised to strike her attacker. He shook his head, and his lips visible through the mask’s mouth opening curled into a sarcastic smile. “A broom?” he taunted. “That the best you can do?”

      Holly willed herself not to move until he’d taken another step closer, and then she reacted. With a fierce growl, she thrust the head of the broom forward and jabbed at the mask’s eye slits. The man howled in pain as the sharp bristles connected with his eyes, and he staggered backward and clutched at his face. Before he could retreat farther, she readjusted her hands on the broom and swung with all her might. The blow hit him on the side of the head.

      He stumbled but caught himself and snarled, “You’re going to pay for that.”

      “I don’t think so!” she yelled.

      Before he could take another step, she drew back, and with the full weight of her body, she slammed the end of the handle into his abdomen. She didn’t give him time to collect his wits before she took a deep breath and delivered a hard thrust to his Adam’s apple.

      A gurgling sound erupted from his throat, and he grabbed at his neck in obvious pain as he backed away. His chest heaved as he tried to breathe, but she didn’t give up. She advanced on him, continuously jabbing and thrusting the broom, as he turned to run from the room. “Get out of my house!” she screamed with each step she took.

      He tried to flee from the blows, but it was no use. She was a mama bear protecting her young, and she wasn’t about to let this man who’d sneaked into her house in the middle of the night hurt her or her family.

      As he stumbled into the hallway, she followed him, still wielding her makeshift weapon, delivering blow after blow. With another cry of pain, he turned toward the stairs, but she was ready for that. She drew back and landed a direct hit on his kidney. A strangled cry of pain let her know she’d delivered a punishing stroke.

      His back arched, and his foot slipped from the top step. Panting for breath, she stood at the top of the stairwell and watched as he tumbled down the stairs. He landed at the bottom with a loud thud and lay there for a split second before he pushed to his feet. Slowly, he turned his head, gazed at her on the landing and shook