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My Heart's Protector

Page 12

by Jenn Sable


  “Good. Let's get on with it,” said Winnie, suddenly anxious.

  “What is going on? I know something is happening with Devin Sharpe. Should I be aware of anything?” I asked, getting frustrated that things seemed to be happening around me, but I wasn’t clear to what extent.

  Winnie looked to Nigel. “Eloise has been here for less than two hours, and she already knows this much?”

  Nigel shrugged. “I'm afraid she saw Devin when she first arrived at the apartment building.”

  Winnie’s lips settled into a firm line, and her brows furrowed. “Oh. I see. Eloise, I did not want to have to trouble you with anything that had to do with Devin Sharpe.” Winnie practically spat the man’s name.

  Winnie shook her head. “I never even wanted you even to meet him.”

  She then went on to give me the full rundown. Apparently, her nephew, through marriage to her late husband, felt entitled to some of her wealth generated through her tea company. Winnie did not feel the same or agree with Devin’s logic, although she did make sure that he was handsomely taken care of in her will. Just like the rest of the charities she and her late husband vowed to support, Devin would be granted a percentage of her overall assets which meant he would to inherit a small fortune from her. Sadly, Devin only surfaced in Winnie’s life when she made a change to her will, and all of the changes to her will had been to add more beneficiaries which caused Devin an extreme amount of alarm.

  “What change are you making to your will?” I asked.

  “I'm adding someone. And every time I do, Devin always gets his panties in a twist. He did the last time as well, when I added my dear friend Tula Cooper Parks. And now he seems to be agitated yet again,” said Winnie, frustration leaked into her tone.

  “May I ask, why are you making such significant changes? Is it because of the heart attack scare?”

  “I would be in pure denial if I didn't admit that it was. El, having this heart attack truly was the scare that I needed to realize that I have been pushing forward too much, too far, too fast, and it's time for me to slow down.”

  I told Winnie and Nigel about what Devin had said to me when he burst out of her apartment building and I almost hit him with the taxi door. Devin Sharpe sounded threatening. Winnie sat up straight and repeatedly glanced at Nigel, who chewed at the corner of his mouth.

  “No more letting Devin into my apartments,” Winnie growled.

  “Sorry, Winnie. I should have followed your recommendation. I just figured that maybe there was a way to discuss things rationally with him.”

  Winnie pinned him with a penetrating gaze. “I have been dealing with Devon Sharpe for the last three decades. If there were a way to discuss things rationally and reasonably with him, I would have already done it. Do not allow him into my apartments again.” She took a deep breath, and a bit more of her color drained from her face. She looked tired and withered.

  I reached out and took hold of her hand. It was cold and slightly damp. “Winnie, are you feeling all right” What can I get you?” I asked, suddenly worried that our conversation had become too stressful.

  Winnie patted my hand with hers. “El, I’m fine, but thank you for asking. I just need to go a bit slower than I did before. I fear that I failed to mention to you that for the past few months, I have disregarded warnings from my doctors.

  “What warnings?” I asked and glanced back at Nigel, who had turned an ashen color and stood with his arms crossed.

  Winnie smiled sadly. “For months now, my doctors had been encouraging me to retire.”

  I said nothing, but my facial features must have spoken for me that I was panicked.

  Winnie reached out and took hold of my hand. “I don't want you to worry, because I said that I was going to blend tea and go into business with you. I will continue doing just that, just not in the same capacity.”

  “What are you saying,” I asked.

  “I'm saying that you, Eloise, have everything within you to run this business successfully. You have a passion for tea. You are a brilliant strategist. You’ve got great instincts that you need to start listening to more often. You already found a great marketer through Chloe. You have brand recognition because you can still use my parent company’s name. Now it is your turn to take your talents and put them to the test.”

  I felt ill. “Oh my God, Winnie. I have no talent. This is what I've been telling you ever since we met.”

  “And I've been telling you that you've been lying to yourself. It's time that you stop believing that false narrative. You're a brilliant, talented, funny girl who has so much to offer to the world. Each time you say that you don't have talent, I look at that as you wanting to sidestep the responsibility it will take to bring those talents to life. I will help you, Eloise. I will always help you, but before I can, I need to ask you to help me. Will you help me through this health scare? Will you help me transition into the next phase of my life?” asked Winnie, her blue eyes shone with welled up, unshed tears.

  Emotion twisted through my chest. “Of course. Winnie, I'm here for you. I love you. Whatever you need.” My voice started to break, and I fell silent.

  I felt as though I was losing more than just a business partner. I felt as though I were losing a parental figure. All of it was happening much too fast, the fear for Winnie’s health, the wave of relief that she was going to be okay, the panic now associated with the changes that were on the way, and on top of all it, my deep ache for Troy Witmer and the phantom touch he held over my heart.

  I was relieved when the doctor walked into the room and gave us an update on Winnie's condition. She was showing steady progress. Even though Winnie had warned me about failing to listen to her doctor’s orders, it was shocking to hear from the doctor that she had received countless warnings over the past few months that she was pushing herself to exhaustion. It gnawed at my conscience, knowing that she was working so hard for me. Success was not as important as the life and happiness of my dear friend.

  The doctor scheduled a meeting for Nigel and me to return the next day. We planned to meet with him and a few other doctors to discuss a care plan for Winnie. The doctor mentioned that they were leaning toward a plan that included a change of pace and a change of environment. A move from Paris in the coming days and weeks was recommended. My mind was reeling when the doctor then asked that Nigel and I leave for the evening, indicating Winnie needed to rest.

  “Eloise, I’ll meet you at the car. I'll be right behind you. I just need to check with Winnie on one more thing,” said Nigel.

  I nodded and walked down the hospital corridor into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. My phone buzzed when I stepped into the lobby, and I dug it out of my purse. My heart leaped to my throat when I saw a text message from Troy.

  Troy: Hey, just checking in to make sure that you arrived safely.

  I knew that Troy saw that I'd opened his message, but I wasn't sure how to respond. Did I just pretend like I didn't see the images from this morning?

  Troy didn't give me a chance. He sent another message.

  Troy: Your picture this morning was beautiful. I'd like to think that at least some of that smile was because of the time that we spent together last night.

  Troy: I also saw the messages from April Kline that you must’ve seen.

  My stomach twisted into knots, thinking about Troy’s eyes roving over the images of April and her lingerie and her slow striptease through photos. I pressed the bottom of my palms to the backs of my eyelids.

  I can’t deal with all of this. Not right now. It was too much of a distraction, just like I knew it would be. It was exactly why I stayed away from relationships. I had to focus on my career, especially while it was going through such a major change. I did not need anything else pulling my attention from it.

  Me: Hey, Troy. I arrived safe and sound in Paris. My top priority is Winnie, and then figuring out what I need to do for my business. Last night was fun, but you don’t owe me an explanation f
or April's messages. That’s your business.

  Troy: Yes, I do. That's just April. She's always pushing aggressively for what she wants.

  Me: Well, it’s pretty clear what she wants from you.

  Troy: It isn’t what it seems. Can we talk?

  Me: No. It's not a good time.

  Troy: Okay. When then?

  I took a deep breath and sighed.

  Me: Troy, there won't be a good time. Our whirlwind flirtation was fun and amazing, but now it's over. I’m sorry.

  My cell phone immediately started to ring. Troy’s sexy selfie popped up on the screen. It hurt my heart to decline the call but I felt a wellspring of tears behind my eyes and knew in my gut that this was what needed to happen. Troy and I already knew we were a terrible idea.

  Me: I'm sorry this is just too much for me to take right now. I have to focus on what's in front of me.

  My phone started to ring again, and once again, Troy's sexy selfie popped up on the screen, and once again, I declined the call.

  Troy: Dammit El, let's talk this through. If not now, then later. Please tell me that you'll give me a chance to clear things up with you.

  Me: Troy, it's not going to work out between us. This isn’t even about April Kline. We both know that. You are the sweetest distraction I could have asked for.

  Troy: It might sound crazy, but I don't want to lose you. We just found one another.

  Me: Take care, Troy. I'll hold our night together close to my heart always. Good luck with your transfer. I’ll contact you once I’m back.

  With tears in my eyes and a crushing heaviness in my heart, I clicked on Troy's contact and blocked him.

  Chapter 8 - Troy

  “Troy, what can I say? April Kline is one angry woman. You and I both know that you're one of the most dedicated troopers there is, and it's a damn shame that this is happening to you right now. However, my best advice to you is to withdraw your transfer request at this time.”

  I took a slow deep breath. “Thanks, Captain. I agree, I just never saw this coming.”

  “No one did, and you couldn't have possibly planned for something like this. April Kline is a troubled person, and her actions made out of anger are going to catch up with her one day. She's sewing a lot of bad seeds in the ground of her hometown. If anyone needs therapy, it's her.”

  I laughed softly, but it lacked humor and warmth.

  The captain took a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I'm confident that you'll pull through this, kid. In fact, I know you will because the department is allowing you to work through your evaluation. The fact that April Kline’s complaint stems from an event while you were still a minor blows a lot of holes in the validity of her concern. And, truth be told, I think you might have the greatest opportunity to prove your worth to the force right here in Frost Forest. I'll see you later this afternoon when we meet, okay?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “Hang in there.”

  “Yes, sir. I'm okay. I’m angrier at myself for continuing to be surprised over April Kline’s compulsive lying. I know in due time, the truth will surface, and things will work themselves out. They always do. I’m just grateful to still be allowed to work during the process.” I said.

  “That's the spirit, and you're right, all of this will get clear up as soon as it's checked out by the internal office. You didn't do anything wrong, kid,” said Captain Kelleher.

  “Thanks, Captain. Plus, it might be nice staying around Frost Forest, even though I’m looking for a new place to live. My mom and sister have decided to move back to the area and I want them to have the family cabin. It's nice to have their support through this shitshow, and I am certainly grateful for your support as well. I'll see you this afternoon.”

  I thanked the captain again for giving me a personal phone call. The last few weeks had seemed surreal in a nightmarish way.

  As much as I tried to reach Eloise, I tried equally hard to avoid April Kline. Her move home to Frost Forest with a heart filled with anger after her scandalous divorce didn't serve anyone's good, including her own. April had decided to use her talent for gossiping and her journalism degree to create a local online gossip column that she named Rumor Mill.

  And the quote was true, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I appeared in the Rumor Mill after I told April under no uncertain circumstances that I wasn't interested in her. She had been out for blood and brought up the fact that in high school, I had attended family therapy after my father died. The problem there was that I had failed to mention that when asked questions about my mental health on my state trooper application to attend the academy. She alleged that I had a PTSD diagnosis after the death of my father, and she feared that it was going to impact my ability to serve my community negatively.

  Maybe I was mental. Amid a collapse in my career goals that I had held as my top priority for years, my mind kept returning to one personーEloise.

  It had been three weeks since I last communicated with El, yet I saw her every night in my dreams. El was across the Atlantic ocean, on a different continent, and had blocked meーall reasons a sane and normal person would use as a sign to move on. Not me. Anytime I ran into Chloe Rosen or heard from Sammie, I would casually ask about Eloise.

  Chloe always gave me a sympathetic look but reported that El was strictly focused these days on helping Winnie through her health crisis. If there were any other topics discussed, it was always a strategy on how best to navigate forward with her business.

  Today, like the others, had gone by with the flurry of paperwork and a call to see my good friend, farmer Everett Probst.

  “Now Everett, we talked about this. Anytime your neighbors see you do something that is concerning for your safety, they are going to call the police. Meaning that I’m going to visit you.” I said and scrubbed a hand over my face.

  “Those damn neighbors need to mind their own business. I have a farm to run here, and unless they want to start shoveling shit for me, then they need to keep their mouths shut.

  He wasn't kidding, either; it smelled so strongly of cow manure, it stung my eyes.

  “All right, Everett. We're going to go ahead and call a meeting with your boys.”

  Everett threw an angry hand in the air, but he fell short of flipping me off. “Go ahead, call a meeting, call several meetings, invite the newspaper because they're going to have a good story when I bring my shovel and start clobbering people who are trying to take me off of my farm!”

  I nodded. “Everett, nobody wants to take you off your farm. But we want to make sure you're safe, and I sure as hell don't want to be clobbered by your shovel.”

  I made sure that Everett once again promised not to climb on any ladders and made my way back to the cruiser. I wheeled out of the farm onto Preacher Road and headed back to the station for the scheduled afternoon meeting with Captain.

  Turning into the barracks parking lot, I knew immediately that something big was about to happen by the number of vehicles parked out front. I walked in, and Dolly gave me a wide-eyed stare.

  “Hey, Doll,” I said.

  She leaned forward and whispered, “You're early, but everyone's already in the back, sitting in the meeting room with a lady. If you need anything at all, just let me know.”

  I nodded my thanks and headed back to the meeting room. I pushed through the door and was surprised to see Captain Kelleher, a few other ranking officers, and a slender woman with long, graying-brown hair, shining eyes, and a big, bucked-tooth grin with a gap in the center who spoke with a British accent. As soon as I walked in, everyone stopped talking and stared at me.

  The British woman was the first to speak. “Officer Witmer, I'm Tulah Cooper Parks, and I need your help. Actually, Eloise Evans needs your help.”

  Chapter 9 - Eloise

  I didn’t see the runner’s fluorescent orange T-shirt until he was in front of my headlights. Instinct took over, and I jerked the steering wheel of my dad’s old Jeep Cherokee, crossed into t
he oncoming lane, and plowed into a muddy ditch on the other side of the forest road.

  Oh, my God, did I just hit a person? Did I just kill someone? Jesus. I don’t think I ran him over, but I’m not sure.

  I wanted to get out of the Jeep to check on the runner, but I couldn’t stop trembling or loosen my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. I’d just returned to Frost Forest the day before and shouldn’t have been driving. I was exhausted and stressed and totally distracted, but I didn’t think the mile and a half drive from the inn to Brocker Lodge would result in an accident. I looked into the rearview mirror and sagged forward in relief when I saw the blurry outline of the runner standing at the edge of the road, he looked both ways, crossed the road, and padded toward the Jeep.

  Thank you, God! I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even hit him. Everyone and everything is okay, breathe Eloise! Breathe!

  I released my death grip on the steering wheel, put the Jeep into park, and set the emergency brake for good measure, although I was stuck in a ditch and couldn’t move the vehicle if I wanted to. My breathing had almost begun to return to normal when the driver’s side door was wrenched open, and I gasped as I stared directly into furious, familiar, blue-gray eyes.

  “Jesus, El. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you were aiming for me,” said Troy in a tightly controlled voice.

  Why me, Lord? Why? What dastardly deed did I do in a previous life to be put face to face with Troy the second day I’m back from France?

  Troy traced my form with his storm-colored eyes. Flooded with embarrassment, my face grew hot as he scanned my arms, chest, midriff, and legs. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice, his anger replaced by concern.

  “Yeah,” I said as he looked me over like a doctor might a newborn.

  It was evident that Troy didn’t trust me as he continued carefully scanning and assessing me until he came to the same conclusion on his own. Once finished, he seemed to relax a bit, and his eyes locked with mine.

 

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