Not a Hero

by Cherise Sinclair

  When she turned to a new customer, Gabe grabbed a pastry and left enough money to cover the bill. Setting his coffee on a table, he leaned against a wall and ate while watching people come and go.

  Seeing his badge, most smiled and nodded. Two of the women said, “Welcome to Rescue.” One man in his thirties didn’t trouble to hide his glare. Another frowned.

  So, some were in favor of a police presence, others weren’t.

  Julie never looked up.

  Dammit.

  Gabe had just finished his coffee and pastry when the good Reverend Parrish walked in. How convenient was that?

  This time, Gabe gave him a closer study. Mid-forties. About 6-2, two hundred pounds, and in good shape. Short brown hair, blue eyes. Still wearing a pistol.

  A young man and two women followed him like chicks after a hen.

  Seeing Gabe, the reverend motioned the three to the counter—and headed for Gabe. “Chief MacNair. I’m Reverend Parrish.

  Gabe took the offered hand. “It’s good to meet you. Actually, I wanted to speak with you about—”

  “About Keaton. I heard about the unfortunate incident last night.” A flash of amusement was quickly masked.

  “That incident was assault.” Gabe kept his voice mild.

  “Of course, and I was appalled. We don’t condone violence. That is why Mr. Keaton’s membership was revoked, and he was expelled from the fellowship and the grounds. I so informed Officer Baumer last night.”

  Son of a bitch. Although the crime would be considered a misdemeanor, it was still assault. “Where did he go?”

  “In fear of being arrested, I believe he planned to return to the Lower 48. He was from Kentucky.” Despite a slight smirk, Parrish appeared to be telling the truth.

  In fact, he probably was. He’d undoubtedly tossed Keaton out to keep Gabe from getting onto the militia’s grounds. Rounding up a judge to get a warrant for Keaton’s arrest at this point was probably futile.

  That’s why Baumer’s log stated the man had left town.

  “I appreciate the information.” Gabe kept his voice level, not letting his frustration leak out. “Please let your…members…know that violent behavior isn’t acceptable and will get them in trouble.”

  “I’ll do that.” The reverend tilted his head. His gaze on Gabe stopped barely short of being a challenge. After a long moment, he turned and rejoined the others.

  As Gabe watched, the man spoke to the three, switching on his magnetism, as someone would turn on a light.

  His “flock” hung on every word.

  Rubbing his neck, Gabe watched with a sinking feeling in his gut. The good reverend was a charismatic fanatic with firearms.

  Great, just great.

  Chapter Nine

  Audrey sighed in relief when Gabe finally left the coffee shop.

  Earlier, when customers had poured out of the shop to see the moose, she’d gone to the door to watch, and seen Gabe take charge, ordering people around with that military command voice of his. Then he’d strolled into the street, just like those old cowboy movies where the sheriff stalked out to face a gunslinger.

  She grinned. He’d faced down a moose.

  Actually, it wasn’t all that funny. The animal had been massive. As tall as Gabe. With antlers. That was no Bambi.

  Gabe had been as cool as if he’d been out for a nice walk.

  Just…wow.

  Then, the chief had entered the coffee shop, and she’d felt herself turn red.

  Rather than working, she’d sneaked peeks of him as her memory relived last night. The way he’d held her in place. The low resonant sound of his voice when he called her Goldilocks. How hard she’d come.

  He’d been understanding and patient—and adamant about caring for her. Sheesh, she couldn’t even pretend he’d taken advantage of her since having sex had been her idea.

  It had been wondrous. Amazing.

  And a total disaster.

  Why did the man have to be so perceptive? After sex, any other guy would’ve been half-asleep, not noticing how she didn’t answer right away to her fake name.

  Why was he so unbendable? It wasn’t as if she’d killed someone; she was just using a name that wasn’t hers.

  Of course, she was getting paid in barter and cash, so she was kind of escaping taxes. But, please, the IRS was well equipped to come after her if they wanted to. She sighed. And Bull said there was a limit on how long he’d pay her in cash.

  She didn’t need to look up to know that the chief had left. The man exuded power that could be felt all the way across the room. The badge might give him legal standing, but the intimidating authority? Oh, he’d have it without the badge.

  Why did she find that so sexy?

  She closed her eyes. My girl, who are you and what have you done with super-nerd Audrey?

  Unfortunately, a brainy bookworm was who she was—an introvert to the nth degree— possessing a total inability to handle relationships with lovers, friends, and family. Even her mother hadn’t loved her.

  Oh honestly, she was whining like a baby. Stop. Now.

  It was good that Gabe had walked out before she got in too deep. Because if she did—and God, it would be easy to fall for a man like him—then when he tired of her nerdiness and pulled away, it would really hurt.

  She grimaced. It already hurt.

  Unable to concentrate, she checked her emails and cringed inside.

  Special Agent Dennison had written.

  Her fingers almost crossed as she punched the keys to open the email.

  * * *

  —

  Audrey,

  The investigation of the pharmaceutical research company and their created virus is going well. I believe all those involved will end up destitute and behind bars.

  Spyros hasn’t been apprehended. Rumors are flying that one of his targets injured him badly—and escaped. He’s going to want revenge and to repair his damaged reputation. As you feared, until he’s imprisoned, you will be in danger.

  —

  * * *

  Audrey’s stomach clenched. She’d learned Spyros had escaped law enforcement agencies, including Interpol, for well over a decade. What if they never caught him?

  Her fingers shook as she scrolled the page.

  * * *

  —

  I understand your hesitance to reveal your whereabouts. If you change your mind, I’ll do my best to see that you stay safe.

  —

  * * *

  Safe. Now there was a feeling she hadn’t felt since leaving Chicago. Not until last night when wrapped in Gabe’s arms. She shook her head. Not going there.

  She wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed. Until and unless Spyros was caught, she needed to stay put and stay quiet. Here in Alaska.

  Maybe for a long, long time.

  As she fought back tears, the laptop’s screensaver came on. Fractal patterns appeared, grew, and dissolved, chaos in action. The story of her life these days.

  Eff-it-all.

  She pulled in a breath. All right then. It was time to get the contents of her Chicago apartment packed up and stored. Maybe Dennison could help with that.

  And then?

  She couldn’t keep taking Dante’s charity, and face it, charity was what it was. The waitress job brought in cash, but would it last after tourist season was over?

  The freelance online research could bring in enough to survive on, but she’d have to use the internet for hours every day. There was no way she could justify sitting here, taking up a table all day.

  After packing away her laptop and papers, she pulled on her denim jacket and waited for a lull at the counter.

  “Sarah?”

  The woman turned away from refilling the pastry display. “More coffee?”

  “Uh, no, I don’t need more to drink—and that’s why I wanted to talk with you.” Darn it, why was it so easy to answer research questions and so difficult to talk with people any other time? “I know you have free intern
et, and I need the internet. But I can’t drink coffee all day long. Is there a way I could simply pay for the use?”

  Sarah let out a pleased laugh. “And here Gabe said honest people were rarer than rattlesnakes in Alaska.”

  Audrey stiffened. She was one of those people who’d lied to him. “Um…”

  “I’d be delighted to work something out rather than you wasting perfectly good coffee.”

  Apparently, Sarah had noticed how many of Audrey’s half-full cups were abandoned.

  Audrey winced. “You make wonderful coffee. I just can’t drink more than a couple of cups a day.”

  “Let me talk with Uriah and get back to you with some figures.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I take it you’re going to stay in Rescue for a while?” Sarah leaned on the counter, ready to chat.

  “Um. Yes. Rescue is a quite attractive location. The populace is pleasant. Congenial.” And she sounded like an idiot—a well-read idiot. Audrey took an awkward step back. Small talk was so out of her comfort zone. “I should go”—bang my head on the pavement—“pick up my car. Let me know about the internet.”

  “Of course.” Sarah’s cheeks dimpled, but her voice was even.

  Audrey fled.

  Outside, a biting cold wind slapped her face. Incoming gray clouds to the west confirmed the forecast for rain later in the day. From her jacket pocket, she grabbed her green stocking hat and pulled it on as she headed toward Bull’s Moose.

  Paying for internet would be a hit to her cash, but she could afford a month. After that, with luck, the freelance research jobs would have picked up. Since she had to start over with a fake name, it was taking time to get a good reputation again. But if Spyros had people in the FBI, she couldn’t risk them tracing her real name through a PayPal, credit card, or bank account.

  This staying hidden was sure tricky.

  Even trickier was trying to socialize.

  When Sarah switched from business to chatting, Audrey had…run like a coward. I can’t do that anymore. Unlike in Chicago, Rescue residents liked to stand around and talk. She couldn’t afford to stick out as a newcomer.

  Somehow, someway, she’d have to learn to be comfortable with people. She could do it. She would.

  So…she smiled at the next two people she saw. Turning off Main, she strolled down the gravel street of Sweetgale. To her left was an older home and two newer ranch-style houses.

  One front yard held an old red wagon like the one her grandparents gave her one summer. She’d given her doll frequent wagon rides…until Mother cut her playtime in favor of studying.

  Audrey shook her head. Children shouldn’t be forced into being intellectual stars. In college, she’d realized how unfit she was for living in the real world. How gray her childhood had been. Other children’s mothers had played with them, spent time with them. Not had extra homework from her mother on top of what the private school required. Not had nannies who read physics texts to her rather than bedtime stories.

  She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. Sometimes, she’d just wanted a hug so badly.

  When she changed her college major to biology rather than physics, the final break had occurred.

  Her mother had been furious. Audrey was to have been her achievement, a shining example of superior genetics and training. “But you must take after your sperm donor. Weak, emotional. Stupid. Fine. I wash my hands of you, Audrey. Get out and don’t return.”

  Audrey huffed a laugh. Why did those words still hurt so much? Why had she stood there, wanting to beg her mother to love her?

  She shook her head, remembering the neighbors gossiping about Mother, saying, “That woman has no love in her soul.” Maybe it wasn’t Audrey who was lacking.

  Most days, she believed that. I won’t be an emotionless machine. I won’t.

  Biting her lip, she frowned. Because she’d been on that path, hadn’t she?

  Well, she could change. Pulling her shoulders back, she lifted her chin and determinedly smiled at the world around her. Pure white peaks, dark green forests. The glint of the stunningly turquoise lake. So real and immediate. Not a painting or photo in a museum.

  She could smell the wetlands by the lake and hear the thunking noise of someone chopping firewood.

  And from a backyard came an English-accented woman’s voice: “Plague you, knee, you bolting-hutch of beastliness. You…”

  Audrey hadn’t heard such cursing since attending her last Shakespearean play, and she stopped in amazed admiration.

  “Support me, you villainous, foul deformity of nature.” The Elizabethan swearing ended with a muffled groan.

  That didn’t sound good. Audrey hurried around the side of the house.

  Inside a fenced garden, an older woman with chin-length white hair was on her hands and knees, struggling to stand.

  “Wait. Let me help,” Audrey hurried through the gate. “Are you hurt?”

  Blue-gray eyes sparkled with annoyance. “Don’t ever get old, child. It’s the pits.”

  Audrey choked on a laugh.

  “I could use help getting up, yes.” The slender woman smiled.

  “All right.” Bracing her sore ribs with an arm, Audrey bent to give the lady her hand.

  “Uh-uh, Goldilocks.” A firm grip closed on her shoulder.

  Releasing the lady, Audrey spun. Her eyes widened. “You.”

  “’Fraid so.” Gabe’s mouth twitched. He put an arm around her waist and purposefully moved her back before speaking to the older woman. “Ms. Wilson has cracked ribs and shouldn’t lift anything. Let me help.”

  Audrey wanted to argue, but her voice didn’t work, silenced by his touch, by his commanding baritone, even by his scent. The fact that he was right made it all worse.

  “Chief MacNair, I believe?” The lady smiled, as self-possessed and dignified as if she were at high tea. “I would appreciate your assistance. I’m Lillian Gainsborough. Do please call me Lillian.”

  “Good to meet you, ma’am.” Gabe bent, gently scooped the woman off the ground, and straightened. “How badly are you hurt?”

  He strode out of the garden toward the long back porch, and Audrey followed.

  “I didn’t fall, and I’m not hurt,” Lillian said. “I knelt to see if the soil was warm enough to begin planting, but my knee refused to cooperate when I tried to rise.”

  “Ah.” Gabe climbed the two steps of the back porch and settled Lillian on a chair. “Considering the distance between houses here, you might consider getting a medical alert system. In the house or your garden, you can push the button and get help.

  “Honestly, what’s next—a walker?” Lillian said under her breath. “Of course, you’re right, Chief. I’ll get one.”

  Leaning forward, she massaged her right leg. “I planned to schedule a knee replacement surgery after ice-up…so I could enjoy my summer without being laid up. I was quite excited that the ground was ready to plant.” She gave them a rueful smile.

  “We always waited to plant until Memorial Day.” Gabe leaned against a porch railing. “But you’re right; it’s been a warm spring.”

  Audrey shook her head. Was there anything the man didn’t know?

  The movement caught Lillian’s eye. “This chair is empty, dear. Please do sit.”

  After Audrey settled into the adjacent chair, she noticed most of the wrought-iron tables and chairs held trays of seedlings.

  Although Lillian’s back was straight and her voice was level, sadness showed in her eyes as she looked at the tiny plants. “It appears I won’t be putting in a garden this year.”

  Audrey couldn’t stand it. “Um. I don’t have any experience, but if you want to direct me, I could help you out.”

  Gabe smiled at her, then folded his arms over his broad chest. “Planting is fine, Goldie, but no digging. Not with those ribs.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, caught his unyielding expression, and turned to Lillian. “I’d like to help you plant.”

&nb
sp; The woman’s blue eyes lit. “Accepted. I’ll find someone else to use a shovel.”

  “I’ve got a few minutes now, long enough to turn over the soil enough that you can get those seedlings in,” Gabe said.

  “That would be wonderful, Chief.” Lillian smiled. “A couple of locals, Knox and Chevy, do handyman work. They’ll be happy to do the rest.”

  Gabe pointed at a small shed at the side of the backyard. “Tool shed?”

  “That’s it.”

  As Gabe headed to the shed, Audrey could relax without his overwhelming presence. Without his every movement reminding her of what they’d done together.

  “You have no experience in horticulture?” Lillian asked.

  “When I was younger, I wanted a garden, but we lived in an apartment.” She frowned. “Actually, I’ve always lived in apartments. Now, I actually get to play in the dirt. I’m thrilled you’ll let me help.”

  “We will both have fun.” Lillian lifted a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “I have an offer for you. When my husband was alive, we utilized all of the space. Now, without him, I only need half. If you would do the planting, weeding, and harvesting for the entire garden, you are welcome to use the left half as your own. I’ll provide seeds and plants, tools, and directions.”

  Really? Happiness danced through Audrey’s bloodstream. Her own garden space along with an experienced teacher to help her with it? Her fingers twitched with the need to start. She should read a few books, see what—

  “I’ve been presumptuous,” Lillian said. “I didn’t ask if you’d be here long enough to enjoy the harvest.”

  The words were like a blast of cold water.

  “I’ll definitely be here through harvest. Probably for a long time after that. I won’t leave you in the lurch,” Audrey said slowly, feeling off-center. She recognized the hollow feeling in her stomach as homesickness. But there was also a flutter of anticipation.

  She wanted this experience, even if the thought of visiting someone every day was a bit daunting.

  What a perfect way to fulfill her goal to learn to socialize. “I would love to exchange labor for learning.”