An Eye for an Eye

by Irene Hannon

One more thing that hadn’t changed through the years.

  He considered speaking, but he had a feeling the words would get stuck in his throat. Instead, he tugged her gently toward him, taking care to avoid her injured arm as he enfolded her in a tender embrace.

  She was trembling too, he discovered. More than he was. Her simple step into his arms had been a quantum leap forward in their relationship. And it was scary. While the terrain was familiar, in many ways it was like visiting a favorite place from childhood after decades had passed. Often, the present reality didn’t live up to the fond memories treasured—and often embellished—through the passage of years. That could happen tonight, and they both knew it.

  But there was no turning back.

  As the soft jazz washed over them, Mark did nothing more than hold her, giving them both a chance to adjust to the closeness, to get comfortable with the step they were taking. There was no need to rush. He’d learned to pace things through the years, to tune in to nuances and subtle messages. A skill he’d been woefully lacking during their first romantic encounter, he recalled.

  After two decades, memories of how he’d botched their first kiss at Wren Lake still had the power to embarrass him. He’d been a bundle of gawky adolescent nerves driven by unruly hormones, his technique zero on a ten-point scale. Their embrace had been clumsy, at best. He hadn’t known what to do with his hands, which had suddenly felt twice as big as usual. His aim for the kiss had been off, resulting in an off-center collision of lips.

  And somehow his watch had gotten snagged on the front of her sweater in the most embarrassing possible place. It had been a pathetic, inept romantic debut, and he’d been mortified by his fumbling of what he’d hoped would be a memorable moment.

  He’d learned a few things since then. Yet all at once he felt just like that awkward adolescent of twenty years ago.

  However, now, as then, Emily put them both at ease by focusing on her deficits rather than his.

  “I haven’t done this in a long time, Mark. I’m a bit rusty.” Her unsteady voice whispered against the front of his shirt, and he recalled how she had been the one who’d apologized on that lazy summer day years ago, blaming her lack of experience for his klutzy handling of the embrace. He was as grateful to her now for taking the pressure off of him as he had been two decades before.

  Relaxing a bit, he rested his cheek against her hair and inhaled her fresh, floral scent. “It’s like riding a bicycle.”

  “That’s not much of a comfort. Grant told me the same thing before we went bike riding on our honeymoon. I promptly fell off, spraining my wrist and skinning both knees. It was not a pretty picture.”

  A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he stroked her hair. “I promise this will be less painful.” Drawing back a bit, he searched her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since that first day in the park.”

  “I know.”

  “It was inevitable.”

  “I know.”

  She was shaking harder now, and he touched her cheek.

  “You’re not sure about this, are you?”

  “No. But I haven’t been sure about much of anything in the past ten days. I guess I’m afraid this could be a mistake, Mark.

  For both of us. I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship.”

  “It’s survived a twenty-year separation. I think it should be able to survive one kiss.”

  Despite her nervousness, she managed a smile. “I don’t remember us talking about all the ramifications the first time we kissed.”

  He breathed out a soft laugh. “We’re older now. And wiser.”

  “Not to mention more wary.”

  “That too.” He stroked a finger down the side of her jaw, his touch feather light. “But you know something? I’m done talking.” With that, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  And this time, his aim was right on target.

  As Mark tasted her remembered sweetness, Emily’s lips stirred beneath his, responding with an eagerness and abandon that surprised—and delighted—him. He deepened the kiss, cupping her head with one hand, his fingers tangled in her soft hair.

  In the years since he’d left Tennessee, he’d kissed his share of women, many of them far more sophisticated and experienced than his first love. But he’d never enjoyed a kiss more. Nor felt such a strong sense of homecoming. Or connectedness. Or rightness.

  During that long-ago summer, Mark had been convinced Emily belonged in his arms for always. As the years passed, however, he’d come to look upon that conviction as nothing more than a starry-eyed reaction to a first love. Now, he had an odd feeling his seventeen-year-old heart might not have been off base after all. Emily was as appealing as she’d been two decades ago. Perhaps more so. And not merely in terms of physical beauty. Everything he’d once loved about her remained, deeper and richer and more captivating than ever—her sharp intellect, her innate kindness and unselfishness, her delightful sense of humor, and her rock-solid strength. All of these gave her dimension and character. If her adult-like maturity as a teen had intrigued him, the effect was compounded now that she’d grown into it.

  Mark stretched the kiss out as long as he dared, but eventually his well-honed sense of discipline kicked in. The last thing he wanted to do was rush Emily. She was already skittish about letting their friendship escalate. And he suspected she had well-defined ground rules for relationships and intimacy—much as she had in their Wren Lake days. He respected those now, as he had years ago. Tonight he’d tested the waters. And liked her response. But he didn’t intend to push his luck.

  With an effort, he broke contact and drew back, keeping her within the circle of his arms.

  After a few seconds, Emily opened her eyes. “Wow! You’ve been practicing. That was quite an upgrade from our Wren Lake days.”

  He chuckled. “I have a lot to make up for, as I recall. And you weren’t too shabby tonight yourself.”

  Smiling, she toyed with the button on his shirt. “I hope we won’t regret . . .”

  “Hey.” He lifted her chin with a gentle finger. “No second thoughts, okay? Let’s just enjoy the moment. And the movie.”

  He guided her toward the living room, put the DVD in, and joined her on the couch. He draped his arm around her shoulders, and she scooted closer, tucking herself beside him. At first she seemed tense, but as the movie progressed he felt her relax.

  He had the opposite reaction, however. Her soft curves pressed against the hard planes of his body reminded him how vulnerable she was. And how much he wanted to protect her.

  Yet the reality was chilling.

  No matter how many agents were assigned to this case, and no matter how many precautions they took, until the unknown gunman was identified and apprehended, safety was only an illusion.

  “Dale, George would like to see you in his office after you finish lunch.”

  Surprised, Dale looked over at Cindy, George Aiken’s secretary. In twenty-four years on the job, he couldn’t recall ever being called into the owner’s office. They knew each other, of course. Aiken Concrete wasn’t that large of an operation. But Red always handled official business with his crew, unless it was a very serious matter. Like when Ralph got fired a year ago for selling leftover concrete on the side to pad his wallet.

  That hadn’t been smart. Or honest. Much as he’d liked Ralph, Dale hadn’t been able to feel sorry for the man. An honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay, Dale’s father had taught him. And never take what isn’t yours. Dale had followed that advice all his life.

  “Dale?” Cindy gave him an impatient look.

  “Okay. I’ll go see him now.”

  With a nod, she exited.

  There was no reason to be nervous, Dale told himself as he headed down the hall toward the office suite at the front of the main building. He was a good worker. Red knew that. Had complimented him on countless occasions, in fact. This summons couldn’t be anything bad.

  But when he knocked on George’s door and stepped in
side, his heart missed a beat. Red was there too, and he didn’t like the uncomfortable, apologetic look on his boss’s face.

  “Come in, Dale.” George held out his hand, giving Dale a too-hearty shake. “Can I get you some water? Coffee?”

  “No, sir. Thank you. I just had lunch.”

  “It is about that time, isn’t it? Funny how the day can get away from you. Well, have a seat.” He motioned to the chair beside Red.

  He settled on the edge of the seat, and George leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. “When was your last vacation, Dale?”

  The question surprised him, and he glanced at Red. His boss’s bland demeanor offered no clue about where this conversation was headed.

  “Last October. My son was playing in a soccer tournament in Ohio, and Ruth and I went down to watch, then stayed a few days afterward to do a little sightseeing.”

  “Nice place, Ohio.” George picked up a pen and balanced it in his fingers. “Red and I are thinking it might be good if you took a little vacation now, Dale. You’ve had a lot to deal with these past two or three months. A man needs some time to work through those kinds of losses.”

  “I’ve taken a few days off here and there.”

  “But it might be good to have an extended stretch off. You can’t regroup in a day or two.”

  “I’m doing okay, Mr. Aiken. I don’t need any time off.”

  Turning to Red, George passed him the baton with a slight dip of his head.

  Red shifted in his seat, and his complexion grew ruddier. “The thing is, Dale, there’ve been a couple of mistakes recently. I’ve worked with you long enough to know they weren’t caused by carelessness or negligence. I just figure you’ve got a lot of stuff to work through. Taking a little vacation might help you do that.”

  “What kind of mistakes?” Dale sent the foreman a skeptical look. He was always careful. He didn’t make mistakes.

  “One of your trucks had a bad batch of concrete two weeks ago. Too much water in the mix. We were lucky the driver caught it at the site when he checked the slump, or we’d have had a mess.”

  “Are you certain it was one of my trucks?”

  “Yeah.” Red looked at George and shoved his stubby fingers through his thick white hair. “Like I said, I know you have a lot to deal with. Losing your wife and son in a matter of weeks . . .that’s a tough thing, pal. So I cut you some slack. You’ve been a great worker all these years. And a man’s entitled to a few mistakes. But the thing is, it happened again on Monday.”

  Shocked, Dale stared at his boss. Was it possible he’d messed up twice? He knew he was a little distracted. He had a lot on his mind, a mission to plan and carry out. But he’d thought he’d been focused on his job when he was at work.

  Yet he’d made mistakes.

  And if he’d made mistakes here, had he made others as well?

  The thought chilled him.

  “Anyway, we think it might be a good idea for you to take some time off,” Red continued.

  “And it might help to talk things out with someone too,”

  George added. “We’d like you to stop in and see Marla in HR after we’re finished here. She can recommend someone to you.”

  A psychologist. That’s what George meant. They’d decided he needed a shrink.

  That stunned him more than anything else they’d said.

  He didn’t believe in shrinks. Never had. All that psychobabble confused people more than it helped them. And in light of what had happened with Bryan, it added insult to injury to suggest he see one.

  When Dale didn’t respond, Red exchanged another look with George.

  “You know about our EAP program, Dale. We’ve sent plenty of materials to employees, and we’ve discussed it in meetings here,” George said.

  That was true. But Dale had tuned out in the meetings and thrown out the material unopened. It was the one thing on which he and Ruthie had disagreed. She’d been convinced the program might help Bryan. He’d been adamant they could solve their own problems.

  In the end, he’d won. Or he thought he had. But his son’s best friend had confided to him at the funeral that Bryan had found a way around his father’s directive. And he’d discovered Ruthie had known about it. The ensuing argument had been the most stressful and prolonged in their marriage. Three weeks after they buried their son, she’d suffered a fatal heart attack.

  “Anyway, Marla will give you the name of the counselor at the EAP office. Set up an appointment, Dale. It might help you over the hump. Okay?”

  It wasn’t a request. Dale knew that. He was backed into a corner because of two stupid mistakes. At least the guy was just a “counselor” versus a shrink, he consoled himself. And if he played it right, Dale was certain he could convince him he was okay and end the charade in one visit.

  As for taking a few days off, that might not be a bad thing.

  He needed to complete his mission. This would give him the opportunity to get focused and finish the job.

  “Sure. I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good, good. I told George you’d be okay with this.” Red slapped him on the back and stood. “Everything will be fine.

  And you let us know if you need anything while you’re off, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Standing, Dale took the hand George extended. “You’re a good man, Dale. But life can take a toll on the best of us. And you’ve had more than your share of setbacks recently. We understand.

  Our main concern is that you take care of yourself.”

  It was an effort, but Dale managed to maintain an impassive expression. They didn’t care about him. All they cared about was satisfying their customers and avoiding lawsuits. A worker who made mistakes was a liability. They might overlook two mishaps after twenty years of stellar service. But three strikes and he could very well be out. Unless he played their game.

  “I appreciate that, Mr. Aiken.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  Red walked him down the hall straight to Marla’s office, leaving him at the threshold. As if he didn’t think Dale would follow through on his own. “Take care, pal. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  As Red walked away, Dale stuck his hands in his pockets. In all fairness, this wasn’t Red’s fault. He almost felt sorry for the man. Red wasn’t the type to put any more stock in the mumbo jumbo of psychologists and counselors than he did. His boss was doing what all bosses did: following orders.

  And that’s what Dale had to do too.

  Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the door to Marla’s office.

  “Did you hear? Kyle called back.”

  As Emily entered the control booth after her Thursday radio program, Mark smiled. “I heard. He sounds steadier this week.”

  “He is. I talked to him during the station break. He said the counselor at school has been ‘awesome,’ to use his term. I wish more of them were that responsive. And available. And empathetic.” She grinned at him. “I don’t want much, do I?”

  “Just the best for everyone. That’s why you’re good at what you do.”

  A soft flush warmed her cheeks. “Either your lines are getting better or I’m getting used to them. I like that one. What do you think, Coop?” she asked as the other agent entered.

  “Not bad.” Coop’s lips twitched into a smile. “I’ll let you two discuss it while I check out the parking lot. Meet me at the door in five minutes.”

  Andy had headed down the hall to secure the facility for the night, leaving Mark and Emily in the control booth. As she fiddled with the simple gold cross that hung on a slender chain around her neck, she tried to summon up the courage to issue the invitation she’d dragged her feet on all week. But with Saturday a mere two days away, she was running out of time.

  Mark gave her a swift appraisal and took a step closer, lifting a hand to touch her cheek. “What’s up?”

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” She shook her head and plunged in. “A
re you available Saturday night?”

  “That depends.” Mark gave her a lazy smile. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m going to a renewal of vows and wondered if you’d like to come as my guest instead of lurking in the shadows as my bodyguard.”

  “A renewal of vows.” His expression was puzzled. “Want to explain that?”

  “I’ve been seeing a patient for a few months, trying to help her sort through some problems in her marriage stemming from a childhood trauma. Anyway, thanks to a lot of courage and hard work on her part, she’s finally gotten past it. Her marriage is stronger than ever, and she and her husband are going to renew their vows for their twenty-fifth anniversary. She invited me to attend. I was very touched.”

  “I have a feeling you should be the guest of honor. I’ve seen you in action. She may have done her part, but I have a strong suspicion that without your guidance, this renewal might never have happened. And yes, I’d be happy to go with you.”

  “Just so you know, the ceremony’s at a church.”

  Grinning, he held her jacket as she slipped her arms inside.

  “Church, huh? Do I detect some subterfuge here? A subversive plan to guide a fallen-away believer back to the straight and narrow?”

  “Nope. I’m a great believer in that old adage about leading a horse to water. It doesn’t do any good if he’s not thirsty.” She flipped her hair outside of her jacket collar, wincing as the fabric tightened across her arm.

  “Are you okay?” Mark reached out a steadying hand, a slight frown marring his brow.

  “Yes. Now that the stitches are out, I tend to forget about the injury. Then all of a sudden I’ll try to use my arm, and wham! I’m reminded I still have quite a lot of healing to do. But forgetting is a good sign, I guess. I must be improving.”

  Mark took her good arm and guided her out of the control booth toward the door. “If the shrinking size of the bandage is any indication, I’d say that’s true. And I never said I wasn’t thirsty, by the way.”

  His comment caught her off guard. She’d expected him to sidestep a discussion of faith.

  At her surprised look, he gave a rueful shrug. “I’ll admit I haven’t thought much about God in the past few years. In a positive sense, anyway. But I also know there’s a void in my life.