To Protect His Own

by Talty, Jen

  “That sounds like a blast,” Jake said.

  “Actually, it is.” Luke waved as he left the room.

  “I’m going to go upstairs and turn down your bed,” Jeanie said. “Buzz me when you’re ready to come up. I don’t want you doing those stairs alone.”

  “I’ll help him.” Jake peeled the skin off some of the chicken breast. “What if I cut all out the meat and put it on a different plate, would it still make you nauseous?”

  “I ate a huge salad, really I did.”

  “Well, I don’t want to be woken up at three in the morning to be sent out to get ice cream and pickles.” That earned a laugh and the high-pitched tickle across his skin it created helped ease the conflicting tension building inside. He’d never been opposed to family life, but he never realized until now that he held every woman he’d ever been with in competition with Kenzie.

  They all had failed.

  “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” She placed her hand over his and it took every ounce of energy he had not to recoil. Not because he didn’t want her touching him, but because her energy alone gave his soul the kind of peace he needed on a day like today.

  “A little bit.”

  “What’s really bugging you?” his father asked, leaning forward, arms folded on the table, as if he cared. Really cared.

  It surprised Jake that his father would pick up on his emotions. Even more so that he asked. Not something his father had been very good at. “Rough day.” He ran a hand through his damp hair. The shower and change of clothes hadn’t gotten rid of the images nor the pain deep in his gut.

  “How so?” Kenzie had cut into the chicken and took a few bites. He didn’t mean to be so controlling or pushy. She was a smart woman. Perfectly capable of taking care of herself and their baby. But life could be cut short at any moment and he appreciated her effort to make him feel better, even if she didn’t understand what prompted it.

  “Bad accident on the lake.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Two teenage girls on a Jet ski collided with a cabin cruiser. We believe they’d been drinking, though that actually makes it worse in a way.”

  “Makes what worse?” Kenzie asked quietly.

  “They were both killed.” He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples in hard circles, creating pain, but also easing it.

  “Oh, Jake.” She’d scooted closer, putting her arm around him, tenderly massaging the back of his neck. He wasn’t used to having someone to talk to about the worst parts of his job. Normally, he’d cope much the same way many single people did in his profession. Talk with another cop, then disconnect.

  “Jesus. That’s shitty,” his father said. His voice still weak, but laced with a concern Jake hadn’t heard in years.

  “It does suck.” He rested his hand on Kenzie's thigh, caving to his desire to feel the kind of connection a family could provide. He’d often felt a tinge of envy when Jared or Frank would talk of their wives and children and the comfort they provided when the world just went to hell in a hand basket. “One died instantly, the other died at the scene. I saw the whole thing happen and there was nothing I could do about it.”

  “I’m sure you did everything you could,” his father said.

  He lifted his head, catching his father’s gaze. His eyes conveying a sense of understanding and compassion. It was almost too much to take.

  “They were driving crazy. Doing doughnuts. They had no clue what was going on around them. I had the siren going and was heading in their direction, watching the cruiser, who was traveling at a high speed. The cruiser tried to turn away, but impossible maneuver a boat that size quickly. Girls hit the boat at least fifty miles an hour.”

  “Oh, my, God.” Kenzie had wrapped both arms around him, her chin resting on his shoulder.

  He gripped her forearm with both his hands, holding on a little too tightly, sucking in all her loving energy. “It was a pretty gruesome scene and I was the only Trooper there for a good ten minutes. I know there was nothing more I could have done, but still, it makes for one fucked up day, pardon my language.”

  “I think fuck is a good word in this case,” his father said. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you deal with something like that? I’m going to assume this isn’t your first tragedy.”

  “There have been many and it’s not a simple answer,” Jake said. There were only two things Jake wanted from his father. The truth and acceptance. Felt like he was getting a little of the latter today. “A lot of good comes with my job, but accidents like these stick with you much longer than any good thing you accomplish.”

  “Will you get to take some time off?” Kenzie asked

  Jake turned, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Nope. I have to be back on patrol at noon tomorrow.”

  A long silence filled the room. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt normal. He’d unwrapped Kenzie’s arms from his upper body, but he laced his fingers through hers, resting their joined hands on her thigh. “You look tired, Dad. Why don’t we get you upstairs?”

  “Probably a good idea. My throat hurts and I’m worn out.”

  “It will take some time to heal,” Jake said. “Let me put all this stuff—”

  Kenzie interrupted him. “I’ll do it.”

  “All right, but come right upstairs when your done if I’m not back. I don’t want you to be alone.” He helped his father to his feet, surprised by how weak his father’s muscles had become. Kenzie said he had stage four cancer, but Jake been so focused on getting past the worst of the poisoning he hadn’t spent any time researching or learning about his father’s cancer.

  He walked up the steps, holding his father’s arm, while his father leaned on the railing. “How long have you known you had cancer?”

  “Found out two months ago.”

  “Have you had any treatment? Chemo? Radiation? Second opinion?” Jake asked.

  “I had a second opinion. Both doctors said the same thing.” His father took his arm once at the top of the stairs. They made their way down the long hallway toward the master bedroom.

  “What was that?”

  “Enjoy what little time I had left.” His father paused just at the threshold of his room, holding onto both of Jake’s biceps. “Kenzie wants me to do whatever it takes, but the odds are so slim and I don’t want my last few days, months, or years to be filled with a battle that most likely will destroy my quality of life.”

  “There are so many new treatments, Dad.”

  “I want my last days to be spent with you and Kenzie. Not in a hospital bed,” his father said. “I know you don’t want this farm and I accept that, but this land is part of who Kenzie is, don’t take that from her.”

  “I don’t plan on it,” Jake said.

  “You don’t have to live here to be the owner while she runs it, raising your son or daughter here.”

  “I know that,” Jake said, nudging his father into the room, where Jeanie had turned down the bed. “Even if she wasn’t having my baby, I would do that.”

  His father nodded. “She’s a good woman. She’s going to be a good mother. I just hope I’m around long enough to meet my grandchild.”

  Jake closed his eyes. Goosebumps ticked his flesh. “I don’t like this fatalistic attitude. You want to be around that long, we need to at least look at all your options. It’s pretty amazing what they can do today.”

  “Not with the kind of cancer I have. It’s no different than you doing all that you could and that young girl still died.”

  “This is different. You’re not—”

  “I’m not going to argue with you,” his father said. “I’m tired. We can talk about this another time.”

  “I won’t let you off the hook.”

  His father let out a long sigh. “I suspect not.”

  * * *

  Kenzie pulled down her stash of Four Roses Single Barrel bourbon and poured a small glass on the rocks and set it down on the coffee table in front of Jake. He’d not said a single word sinc
e leaving the main house.

  “Thanks,” he said, lifting the glass and taking a good swing. “Whoa. That’s some serious shit.”

  “Figured a day like today called for it.” She eased herself to the sofa, sitting close enough she could feel the heat coming from his body, but not touching him.

  He rested his hand on her thigh as he studied the glass of brown liquid in the other hand. “I’ve seen a lot of deadly accidents. Bodies torn apart. Random, senseless acts of violence. But I have never had a kid die in my arms.”

  “What?” she said. “You didn’t say that before.”

  He took another long slow swig. “I might need a second one of these.”

  “Finish that one and I might pour you a second.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She ran her fingers across his neck and shoulders. Some rerun of an old sitcom echoed from the small television. Minutes ticked by as they sat in silence until he turned, reaching out and placing his hand over her stomach.

  “She was just seventeen. Had her whole life ahead of her.”

  “Nothing I say or do will make this any easier for you.”

  “Most people try so hard to make us feel better, saying all sorts of things. My favorite has always been ‘everything happens for a reason’, but when you do what I do, you know that just isn’t true.” He downed the last swallow. “Half a glass more.”

  “Okay.” As she refilled his glass, he started to pull the cushions off the sofa. “Don’t,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “The bed is big enough for the both of us.”

  “Are you offering pity sex?” He cocked his head. “I don’t need pitying. I thought you got that.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing to do with sex and I don’t feel sorry for you. It’s part of your job. A part that is never going to change because bad things happen to people all the time. That’s why we need people like you in this world.”

  “Then why do you want me in your bed? With you?”

  She handed him his drink. “I just thought after a day like today, you might like to get a good night sleep because I know you’re not getting one on that thing.”

  “I guess I owe you an apology.”

  “You get a pass this time.” She held out her hand. “Come on.” Inviting him to her bed probably hadn’t been the smartest move. “I can sleep on the sofa if you want me to.”

  “No. You need your rest more than I do.”

  He followed her into the tiny bedroom that was filled with a king size bed, one dresser, and a tiny closet. The bed had been an impulse buy, and often she felt like it swallowed her whole, but at the time it had been better than sleeping in the queen bed she and Jake had shared for many years.

  “Where are you going to put a crib?” He stood at the footboard, sipping the last of his drink. The ice cubes rattled against the glass.

  “I haven’t thought about it,” she admitted. “Plus, first few months the baby will sleep in a bassinet and that will fit over there.” She pointed to small makeshift nightstand next to the left side of the bed.

  “I suppose.”

  She watched as he carefully slipped off his shirt, still wincing some from the pain. The bruise was now black, purple, and yellow. His muscles flexed as he glided off his jeans, exposing his boxers, then pulled back the covers, slipping into the right side of the bed.

  After drawing the curtains closed, she turned off the lights. A faint glow from her nightlight illuminated the room. But the room was still dark and she wasn’t about to rummage through her drawers to find a pair of pajamas, so took off everything but her panties and slipped on his shirt. It would do well enough.

  “Can I ask you something?” Jake had propped two pillows against the headboard. His chest bare as he’d only drawn the sheets to his waist.

  “Sure.”

  “We could easily put an addition on this place, a room for the baby. But even if I can get my father to seek medical treatment for his cancer, he’s not going to live forever. Why don’t you and the baby live in the main house?”

  “You sound like Ethan.” She settled in on her side, back to him, close to the edge of the bed as she could, second guessing her decision. She might get more sleep on the sofa than being next to him all night.

  “I’m serious.”

  “You know I don’t like how people come in and out of that house and I need my own space. I grew up in a one room trailer. I don’t want to live in some mansion that has a kitchen that can feed over a hundred people. Also, one of my plans to improve the farm is to eventually turned the main house into some kind of bed and breakfast for customers coming from out of town to look at horse, or people coming in for summer program.”

  “What does my father think of that idea?”

  “He’s actually warming up to it, but says you have to approve it now.”

  The bed shifted as a warm hand wrapped around her belly, pulling her closer. She tried to squirm away, but it was no use because he was now on her side of the bed, and she was still on the very edge.

  “It’s not my decision,” Jake said. “That’s between you and my father.”

  “Not when Ethan pass…I don’t even like to think about it.”

  “Me neither.” He hugged her tighter. “I’m going to make sure that you and our baby have the heritage you deserve and you’ll have total control of the farm.”

  “It’s not about that for me.” She placed her hand over his, moving it down to where their child was safely protected in her womb. “Some people on this farm think the only reason I was with you was because I was a gold-digging hussy.”

  “That is so far from the truth it's—”

  “The fact I didn’t leave with you proves I didn’t love you. Even proved it to you.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” he whispered right before he pressed his lips against her ear lobe. “I know that it’s always been about belonging to something. Being a part of something that matters and your sheer love of the horses and the land.”

  “I’m glad you get that. But it’s also my career and I’ve never hidden my ambition.”

  “Why my father picked you,” he said. “Why won’t he seek treatment?”

  She let out a long sigh, but was grateful he changed the subject. “Because he’s stubborn. He didn’t want you to see him sick and weak. He wanted to spend time with you. Go riding with you. Hunting. All the things you used to do and go out feeling like he didn’t totally screw up both your lives. He wants to end his life on a positive note.”

  “I do understand that,” he said, his fingers dancing across her stomach, sending sensations to places she’d prefer felt nothing. “But it’s selfish of him. Just as selfish as it is for me to want him to fight. And there is something else.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want the truth from him. He’s taken down all mother’s pictures.”

  “Since your return, he’s asked me to put some of them back up, but I haven’t gotten around to it.” She closed her eyes tight. This wasn’t her story to tell and while she desperately wanted Ethan to explain everything, he would never agree to it, which put her right back in the position that destroyed her relationship with Jake in the first place. “He never cheated on your mother. You have to believe me on that.”

  “My mother didn’t kill herself for no reason. I just want to know why.”

  “Get to know your father again. He loves you.” She was going to have to talk with Ethan because she couldn’t keep this secret. Not anymore.

  “He always had a funny way of showing it.”

  “So did you,” she said. “Move over. I’m going to fall off.” She gave him a little nudge with her elbow, expecting him to just roll over, but instead he scooted to the middle of the bed, taking her with him, keeping his had firmly planted on her stomach. It was going to be a long night.

  “The very first time you showed up at my doorstep—”

  “Less than six months after you left.”

&nb
sp; “Let me talk,” he said. “I was so happy to see you and I just assumed you were there because you wanted to be with me and it didn’t take much to get you to sleep with me.”

  “I opened my mouth and you rammed your tongue down my throat. I got caught up in the moment.”

  He chuckled. “Always liked shutting you up that way. But the next morning you made it clear you weren’t leaving the farm and then went on and on about my dad.”

  “You never heard what I said that morning.” She twisted, rolling over to face him. “I tried telling you I wanted to make it work. Me on the farm and you being a Trooper. I didn’t understand why it was all or nothing.”

  “It wasn’t the farm.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “It was my dad. You chose him over me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “It felt that way,” he said. “Between you knowing about my mother and then not coming with me, what else was I supposed to feel? Think?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, holding his gaze. “But you didn’t even give me a chance. You stormed off like a child.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “The night we made our baby. I woke up and watched you sleep for an hour and thought about all the other times you came to see me where I puffed out my chest and decided I wasn’t going to let you get to me, even though every time I saw you, I wanted you.”

  “I wanted you, too,” she admitted. “But you hurt me when you left for months and never once contacted me. I felt unloved and tossed aside. Then you demanded I run off with you. You really didn’t give me a choice and you never talked with me about any of it.”

  “You’re right.” He pressed his tender lips against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “I am, too, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’re still in the same place we were ten years ago. Only difference is I’m pregnant.”

  “I’m not sure I could live here full time again.” His words cut her to the bone, but the gentle touch of his hand on her back reminded her of what could be. “And that’s the entire reason I was always such an asshole to you.” He kissed her nose. “I don’t want to be that man anymore. I’m going to be a good father. I can promise you that. But there is still so many reminders of all the things my father lied about in this place and I feel the same way about the main house as you do.”