Or was it?
Beau took a moment to decide whether to jump into her life with both boots, or back off. His radar told him she’d prefer that he did the latter. “Okay,” he said. “It’s none of my business. But if you feel like talking, I’ll be around.” He drew a breath. “In the meantime, I’m taking a break and heading for the diner. Can I bring something back for you or Aunt Molly?”
“Nothing for me, thanks, and Aunt Molly said she’ll eat when she’s hungry. I guess we’re both still full of cookies.”
“Okay, I won’t be long.” He started away, then hesitated. “I think Rachel enjoyed the fuss you made over her this morning. That was a nice touch, toasting her baby news with milk.”
She nodded and smiled, but he could see that her tears were close again. So he did the only thing that felt right for both of them. He said, “See you in a little while,” and walked away.
When he returned at one o’clock, she was her calm, together self again. Earlier, she’d been in a purple fleece tracksuit. Now she wore brown knitted leggings and a cream-colored tunic with a long, loosely tied jute belt studded with tiny brown stones and gold circles. Gold hoop earrings showed under her sun-streaked blond hair.
She stepped into the sitting room and set a mug of hot coffee on his worktable. “For you.”
“Thank you. But why?”
“Because I made you uncomfortable today, and I’m sorry.”
“No problem. I just wish I could’ve helped. I never know what to do when a woman cries.”
She smiled a little. “My dad used to say that any man who did know had an up-to-date user’s manual with a thick chapter on troubleshooting.”
He smiled back, but thought it prudent not to agree.
“Anyway, you deserve an explanation. Rachel has wanted me to take a self-defense class with her for over a year now. So after my talk with you about my rare trips outside these walls, I decided it was time to sign up. Can you fill in the blanks?”
“Now that there’s a baby on the way, she thinks she should skip it?”
“Yes. I guess I’d counted on it more than I thought.”
That was it? Her sad face and red eyes had been about her feeling disappointed? Uh-uh. He wasn’t buying it. But if she didn’t want to share what was really going on, he’d accept what she offered. He pulled a few paper towels off the roll on the floor, then wiped the sawdust off the plastic covered arm of a settee. Taking her hand, he led her to her “seat,” then as he’d done before, dragged a sawbuck close and sat.
“Rachel’s bowing out shouldn’t prevent you from taking the class. If you don’t want to go alone, take Aunt Molly with you. She’d probably love it.”
“She probably would. Even if she didn’t, she’d do it because I asked.”
“But?”
“But I’d rather see her board a plane to Connecticut and spend next week with Mille, who will also be celebrating her eighty-fifth birthday. They’ve been best friends since grade school and haven’t missed a birthday celebration in ten years. But this year, even though she’s had her ticket for a month, she’s determined to stay here and ‘Jenna-sit.’”
It was a struggle to say what he did next because he knew he was only asking for trouble. “When is she supposed to leave, and how many days would she be gone?”
“Friday, for five days. She wants to be back on Wednesday—the day before Thanksgiving—because we both volunteered to help with the Thanksgiving dinner at St. John’s.”
“Has she cancelled her flight yet?”
“I don’t know.”
Beau took her hand again. “Come on.”
Startled, Jenna met his eyes. “Where are we going?”
He ushered her through the doorway. “We’re going upstairs to find out. If she hasn’t cancelled yet, we’ll talk her into going. If she’s concerned that something will happen to you while she’s gone, hearing that I’ll be here should put her mind at ease. I can bunk on the sofa, or bring my own accommodations. I have a small travel trailer I take on fishing trips.”
“Beau—”
He stopped abruptly at the bottom of the staircase to meet her eyes. “Is this important to her?”
“Very.”
“Then if you care about her, you’ll say yes. And if you say yes, and she does, too, there’s a small condition attached to my offer.”
He could see that she wasn’t sold on any of it. But she hadn’t laid down the law and refused, either—maybe because she knew that having a protector nearby was the only way Molly would take that flight.
Jenna moistened her lips. “What’s the condition?”
“I’d like you to take those self-defense classes. If you feel uneasy driving at night, I’ll see that you get there and drive you back home.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Then I guess Aunt Molly’s going to miss her eighty-fifth birthday celebration with her best friend from school.” He shrugged. “She can do it next year, I suppose. Provided they’re both still around.”
Jenna’s gaze sharpened. “You’re bullying me into accepting?”
“No. I’m just trying to give you and Aunt Molly what you both want.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Beau had gone back to work, and Jenna was on the phone with Kari Young at the community center. The self-defense class started this Thursday and consisted of four three-hour sessions, but if Jenna preferred to wait, they’d be having another class after the holidays. She didn’t want to wait. By the time she’d pushed the disconnect button and gone upstairs again, she no longer felt as though she’d been forced to make that call. She felt good about it.
She tapped at the partially open door to her great-aunt’s quarters, then poked her head inside. Aunt Molly looked up from the creamy brocade wing chair across from her matching sofa. She was wearing her glasses—a rarity—and the morning newspaper lay open on the coffee table.
Jenna came inside and closed the door, and Aunt Molly peered at her over her lenses. “Registration was still open?”
She lowered herself to the sofa. “Yes. Classes are Thursday and Friday this week, then finish up on Monday and Tuesday of next week. Now will you please call Millie and tell her to meet your plane on Friday night?”
“You’re sure about this?” Molly asked, the creases in her face deepening.
“I’m sure.” But as soon as her aunt was in the air, she’d absolve Beau of his duties and let him live his life. She had no intention of being an albatross around his neck.
Gripping the arms of the chair, Molly pushed to her feet, then studied Jenna for a beat. “Very well, but I want your solemn promise that you won’t back out of this agreement. I won’t go if you’re planning to send Beau packing as soon as my plane takes off.”
Jenna stilled. Was she that transparent, or was Aunt Molly reading minds these days? Either way, she was stuck. “I promise.”
“Good. Now, while I’m talking to Millie, you should read the article under the Community Happenings banner on page three.” She headed for her bedroom telephone. “Apparently it’s the second time the announcement’s run. I can’t imagine how I missed it before.”
“What announcement?”
“Read, dear.”
Spinning the newspaper around to face her, Jenna scanned the headline and first two lines of text—and smiled.
Charity’s First Annual Fruitcake Fling. Did you re-gift that fruitcake you got last Christmas? Is the recipient now using it for a doorstop? Then it’s time to fling a few for charity.
Jenna glanced through the doorway to her aunt’s room. “Fling a few?”
Molly picked up the receiver and dialed. “It seems that folks in Manitou Springs, Colorado, have been tossing fruitcakes for years. Keep reading.”
When her aunt returned to the sitting room a few minutes later, Jenna had finished the article. It was a great idea. Instead of waiting until January, the event would be held on the Saturday before Thanksgiving so proceeds from t
he fundraiser would be available to the food bank in time for both Thanksgiving and Christmas deliveries. The rules were simple. The fruitcakes had to be edible, and loaf-size only, and the entry fee was five dollars plus one canned or non-perishable food item. There were three categories: flinging, catapulting and launching. The first, second and third place contestants whose fruitcakes flew the farthest would receive gift certificates from local merchants. But at day’s end, Jenna knew the real winners would be the food bank and local residents who needed a helping hand.
“What do you think?” Molly asked.
“I think it’s wonderful. My only problem is the timing. You’ll be in Connecticut.”
“Then you’ll go with Beau,” she said, then moved along. “Now, we’ll need to bake a few to fling, but the Chamber would also like folks to donate a few extras to sell at the event.” She pursed her lips. “I believe a dozen will do. Just give me a minute to change, and we can be off to the market for candied fruit. Unless you’d rather stay here.”
Jenna smiled, loving her aunt’s energy. “No, I’ll go with you.” And while Molly shed her silk and velveteen for more conventional attire, she’d grab their coats. Not only would donating to a worthy cause make Jenna feel good, baking would be a distraction from the uneasy images that continued to plague her mind. Between those and thoughts of the tall man cutting oak trim on the Blackberry’s enclosed back porch, there was little room in her head for anything else.
* * *
At nine o’clock that night, Jenna stood in her semi-dark sitting room and looked out on the white gazebo her father had built when she was a child. Years before they’d all faced fearful events, she, Rachel and Margo had played there like innocents, then later, gathered there to whisper about boys, shed tears and celebrate the milestones they’d reached. Life had been so simple then. Now they were grown women and those gazebo days were gone. A melancholy flood of nostalgia hit her, and suddenly she felt an overwhelming need to reconnect with friends. She hoped it wasn’t too late for a phone call.
Slipping off the purple robe that matched her nightgown, Jenna draped it over a chair and got into bed. There was a rustle of puffy satin comforter as she shifted to stack her pillows against the antique headboard, then picked up the handset and dialed.
Margo answered her cell phone on the second ring. “It’s about time you called, stranger,” she said, and Jenna could picture her warm smile. “How are things in snowy Pennsylvania?”
“Wet and slushy. How are things in sunny Florida?”
“Strange as it sounds, not much warmer than your temperatures in Charity. The farmers are nervous about their orange groves. They’ve been lighting their smudge pots at night.”
“That’s not good. How’s the case coming?”
“Pretty well. We’re hoping to wrap it up soon so we can get home for Thanksgiving at my mom’s house. Cole’s whole family is coming in.”
Jenna felt an emotional tug in her chest. Considering the past few days, she wouldn’t be seeing her mother, and her dad had been gone for years. “Sounds like a good time.”
“It will be if you like noise. You and Aunt Molly should join us if you don’t have other plans.”
“Thanks, but we do. We’re helping out at St. John’s. The church is hosting this year’s dinner for area singles and seniors—actually anyone who’ll be alone or can’t be with their families.”
“Oh, that’s right. My mom mentioned it. Well, let’s get together before the holiday then. Even if Cole stays on for a few days, I want to get home early to help Mom get ready for the mob. She’s planning to do a lot of baking. How about Monday afternoon? I’ll pick up Rachel and we’ll come over to the Blackberry.”
“Oh, Margo, I’d love that.”
“Great. So what’s new in Charity?”
For a long second, Jenna thought about telling her—then didn’t. That news could wait until next week. “Fruitcakes,” she said, lightly. “We made six today, and we’ll probably bake another six tomorrow. The Chamber of Commerce has a fun event planned for this Saturday.”
* * *
He tipped the messenger, then opened the package, and carried the device to the desk in his room. The note inside was brief and concise. “Nine hours. Various sites.” He pulled out a chair and sat, started the recording.
Time stretched, and with every hour he got more agitated, first with the content, then with the sound quality. There were better voice-activated bugs on the market, but they had to be retrieved to collect information, and he’d known that wouldn’t be possible. She rarely left the inn, and when she did, her aunt was there. Recording her from a distance was his only option. He just hoped the gray van and beige sedan weren’t attracting too much attention.
Walking to the far side of the room, he opened the drapes, then turned off the lamps and returned to the long window overlooking the city’s light show. He let the recording play. Some conversations were too faint to understand, and others set his teeth on edge. Suddenly he heard something that spiked his interest, and quickly returning to the desk, he clicked on the lamp, backed up the recording and listened again. Yes. This was what he’d been hoping for.
He now had a plan.
EIGHT
When Jenna walked into the sitting room with Beau’s coffee the next morning, he was on his cell phone. Mouthing “sorry,” she put it on his worktable and started away. He followed and beckoned her back. It only took a moment for her to realize he was talking to Officer Larry “Fish” Troutman at the Charity P.D.
“Yeah, Fish, I have some idea, but I can’t be sure. I heard what I thought were shots last Friday night, but when I went out to look around, everything around my place seemed fine.” He walked to the window and looked out. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Someone outlawing deer, or a car backfiring. I only saw the bullet holes in my sign this morning.”
Jenna felt a jolt. Bullet holes?
Fish said something, and Beau replied. “I took the sign down. But I didn’t touch the slugs in the wall behind it.” He paused again. “Yeah, I’d appreciate that. I’m at the Blackberry doing some work for Jenna. I’ll be here all day.” Then with a cordial, “Thanks, Fish,” he tucked his phone away and sent her a smile. “Good morning.”
Jenna sent him a blank stare. “How can it be a good morning when someone’s shooting at you?”
“Not me. The sign on my workshop.”
“That doesn’t upset you?”
“I don’t like it, but I did my share of damage to streetlights and stop signs when I was a stupid kid. If someone wanted to send me a message, they would’ve shot through my windows.” He grinned. “Besides, I don’t have enemies. I’m lovable.”
Jenna melted inside. He certainly was.
“So what’s this?” he said, glancing at the mug on his worktable. “Coffee for me again?”
She sent him a weary look. “It’s the least I can do considering what you’re giving up to babysit me.”
“Giving up?” His dark eyes twinkled. “Oh. You must be talking about Charity’s pulsing nightlife. The flashing neon lights, the fast-paced club scene.”
Jenna sent him a patient look. “You know what I mean. This isn’t right. You shouldn’t have to give up your evenings because of me. In fact, if you have a chance to go out, there’s no reason why I can’t stay at Rachel’s for a while. I’m sure that would satisfy our promise to Aunt Molly.”
Beau sighed. “Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
“Then relax. I’m not the man that you and half the town think I am. I told you the truth before. I’m not seeing anyone, and no one’s seeing me. The only evening plans I have this week are with you. Okay?”
Jenna couldn’t stop a timid smile. “Okay. Drink your coffee before it gets cold.”
“Wait. Where are you off to?”
“Not far. Just out to the foyer. I’m expecting my mom to call back. She phoned a little while ago, but had to hang up when a friend came to her door.”
> “Did you tell her what was going on?”
“No. She’d want to be here, and that would just give me one more person to worry about.” When he said he understood, she continued. “Was there something you wanted to discuss?”
“Yeah, there is.” He nodded at the narrow stack of wood lined up against the long wall. “The trim’s all cut, but I’d like to stain and varnish it at my shop so you don’t have to deal with the fumes. Which brings me to the sander. I’ll seal the room the best I can, but there’s going to be a lot of dust. Are there any respiratory issues I should know about?”
Was he thinking about her attack and the “damage” she’d alluded to? “With me? No, thank heaven.”
“Great, then if there’s time, I’ll start the floor on Friday after we drop Aunt Molly off at the airport.”
That stopped her in her tracks. “You’re going with us?”
“Driving her yourself sort of defeats the purpose of my hanging out here since you’d be coming home in the dark.” He hesitated, seeming to examine other solutions. “She could drive herself, I guess, and leave her SUV in the lot. She’s more than capable.”
Yes, she was. But that meant there would be no one there to see her off—no one to wish her a great birthday trip and hug her goodbye. That didn’t feel right.
Jenna met Beau’s eyes. He was smiling. But it wasn’t a yeah-I’m-manipulating-you smile. It was just…sweet and caring. A warm glow spread through her, and Jenna smiled back. Maybe his offer to play bodyguard wasn’t totally for Aunt Molly’s peace of mind. Maybe he wanted to see where this attraction was headed. In spite of her reservations, that made two of them. “Well, then. I guess there will be three of us on the road Friday afternoon.”
The day went smoothly. Jenna spoke to her mom and made tentative plans to get together after Thanksgiving, though Gayle Harper was disappointed that she wouldn’t see her only child on the big day. She was glad Jenna would be serving meals at St. John’s, though, because now that they wouldn’t be together she’d be doing the same at the Salvation Army’s homeless shelter. It was a warm, feel-good conversation, without any mention of ants or credit card fraud or secret fears, and Jenna didn’t feel guilty in the least for keeping those things from her.
At Any Cost Page 9