The Twisted Road to You (Perfect, Indiana Book 4)

by Barbara Longley

  She nodded and leaned into him, and he tightened his hold around her slight frame. He liked the feel of her in his arms. A lot. Too much.

  “Rex pooped,” Tyler crowed, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding behind him. “It’s a big one, too!”

  Carlie huffed out a nervous laugh and stepped out of his arms. That part he didn’t like so much. “Good, since you’re in charge, you get to pick it up,” Wes told him.

  “Gross!” Tyler’s gaze shot to him. Despite calling the task gross, his eyes lit with excitement.

  “Yeah, it’s gross, but you get used to it.” Wes stuffed the note into his back pocket. Then he pulled out another bag from the roll he kept handy. He studied the pile on the grass and then Tyler’s small hands. “This time, I’ll show you how it’s done, but next time you’ll have to man up to the task if you want to share responsibility for Rex.”

  “OK,” the kid said, watching intently as Wes slipped the plastic over his hand and leaned over to pick up the mess. He tied the bag shut and dropped it into L&L’s dumpster.

  Once the dog was squared away and back inside L&L, Wes reached for Carlie’s hand. She held her son’s, and the three of them walked between L&L and the building next door, taking the shortcut to the sidewalk on the main street through Perfect. He kept the two of them next to the businesses they passed, while he took the point-guard position on the outside.

  “What did the note say?” Carlie whispered, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk.

  “Nothing new, just that he’s not giving up.” He shrugged. “Once Tyler is in school, I’ll get the note to the sheriff.” He put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her close to his side. “He’s a coward and a punk. I’m a Marine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “I wanna be a Marine when I grow up.” Tyler puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. “Just like you.” His face scrunched again. “Wes, what is a Marine, anyway?”

  Wesley’s chest expanded a few inches, and so did his heart. “A soldier. I’m a retired Marine, an elite branch of the US military. I’d be mighty proud if you followed that path, Tyler, but you have a lot of years to go before you decide.”

  “I’m gonna be seven next July. How old do I gotta be before I decide, Mom?”

  The three of them had reached the diner. Carlie fished around inside her bag for her key. “You have to be eighteen before you can join the Marines, Tyler.”

  Wes leaned close and whispered, “I was only seventeen when I joined.” He liked the way she shivered and tilted her head in response. Once all of this mess with Jared was over, he might have to have a good sit-down-and-think session with himself. Maybe Cory was right, and it was time to move on. Could he let go of the past and take another chance with his heart? What if he did, and . . .

  A wave of panic crashed over him, and the ghosts of combat missions past sent spectral images dancing through his head. OK, maybe not. Not if even thinking about opening himself up again sent him into a tailspin. Either way, it didn’t matter. He clamped down on the panic. One thing at a time, and right now, protecting Carlie and her son had to come first. His shit would still be there once the threat to Carlie was long gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ONCE SHE SETTLED HER SON at a table, Carlie tied on her work apron. Jared wasn’t giving up. No surprise there. The familiar surroundings of the diner acted like a balm on her raw nerves. The cooks were working away in the kitchen, and the Maurers would arrive any minute.

  She wasn’t alone—that centered her even more. She glanced at her son, and her insides knotted with worry. The toughest part would be watching Tyler leave for school without her. He’d be out of her sight and out of her reach.

  At least Wes would be taking him to school. Her ex wouldn’t dare try anything while Wesley was with Tyler. Would he? No. Jared is a coward. She repeated that to herself a few times until it sank in. He’s nothing but a bully and a coward. Yes, but bullies could be dangerous, and they did stupid things. Especially Jared.

  She touched the healing split on her lip with her tongue and moved behind the counter to begin her setup tasks for the day. The sound of vegetables being chopped by the cooks reverberated through the diner. The smell of fresh onions, peppers, frying bacon and sausage filled the diner. Fitting a wire basket filled with a paper filter and freshly ground coffee into the large commercial urn, she flipped the On switch. Then she did the same for the decaf side. “Coffee’s on. As soon as it’s done, I’ll bring you a cup, Wes. What kind of juice do you want this morning, Ty?”

  “Apple.” He looked up from the kids’ paper place mat he was coloring.

  “Apple it is.” Carlie reached into the refrigerator under the counter for the covered plastic pitcher. Once she had Tyler’s juice in front of him, she began filling the sugar caddies. Next she’d fill and set out the salt and pepper shakers that had been run through the dishwasher yesterday. Keeping busy was good. Focusing on something other than the danger facing her was even better. “Speaking of service dogs,” she said, continuing their conversation from earlier, “were you Rex’s handler? Is that why you have him now?”

  “No.” Wes propped his elbows on the table, his expression grim. “We often had a couple of handlers and their TEDDs assigned to our platoon, though. Dogs and their handlers move around a lot. It’s a tough job. They’re pretty much on their own.”

  “What’s a TEDD, Wes?” Tyler stopped coloring to stare at his hero.

  “TEDD stands for tactical explosives-detection dog.” Wes glanced at Tyler. “About a decade ago, my unit was on mission, and we had a handler and his dog with us. We took a lot of fire that day, and the handler and his dog got hit by an RPG. Corporal Reid feared for his dog. I stayed with Reid until he was loaded into the medevac helicopter.” His jaw muscle twitched, and he averted his gaze. “He was pretty bad off, but his primary concern was for his four-legged partner. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the dog had already died. He was agitated . . . the man needed peace, so I promised I’d adopt his dog in his honor if . . . if anything happened to him.” His mouth thinned to a straight, tight line.

  Carlie swallowed against the sudden lump forming in her own throat. The dog’s handler hadn’t made it, either, that much was clear. She wanted to wrap her arms around Wes’s shoulders; instead, she busied herself with placing the filled salt and pepper shakers on all the tables. “So how’d you come by Rex?”

  “I told a buddy of mine, a mustang like me who was involved with the dog-training program, about the promise I’d made to Corporal Reid. A year before I retired, he told me about Rex.” Wes grunted. “Adopting Rex involved months of waiting and lots of red tape, but I’d made a promise to a dying man, and one way or another, I meant to honor Corporal Reid and his dog.” His eyes sought hers, his stare so intense he reached places deep inside her she’d long ago shut down. “I keep my promises, Carlie.”

  “What’s a mustang, Wes?” Tyler stopped coloring, his attention focused on Wes.

  “A mustang is an enlisted man who rises through the ranks and goes on to become a commissioned officer.” He grinned at her son’s confused expression and tousled Tyler’s hair. “None of that means a thing to a six-year-old, does it? Ask me when you’re older, partner.”

  “OK, Wes.” Tyler went back to coloring.

  The front door opened, sending the bell above it chiming. Carlie startled and her hand rose to cover her pounding heart. “Harlen, Jenny,” she said, her voice shaky. “Whew, you startled me.”

  “We do come in by the front door at the same time every morning.” Jenny stashed her purse under the register.

  “Still a little jumpy, I see.” Harlen hung his jacket on the coatrack in the corner. Then he walked over and sat at the table with Wes and Tyler. “Keep the front door locked until we get here, Carlie. We have keys.”

  “I will, but with Wes here, there didn’t seem to be a need. It’s just my nerves.” She smiled. “Coffee’s ready.” She gathered mugs and began to pour coffee for ever
yone. Fixing Wes’s with cream and no sugar.

  “Guess what, Mr. Maurer?” Tyler rose to his knees on the chair. “Me and Mommy are staying with Wes and his dog, Rex.”

  “Are you now?” Harlen’s eyes widened, and he shot Wes a questioning look.

  “On your pockets, Ty,” Carlie said. He sat for a few seconds, but then he got up on his knees again.

  “My place is on the third floor, and we always have a crew on site.” Wes shrugged. “It’s the safest place for them right now. I only use a portion of that apartment anyway. There’s plenty of room.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Jenny said, tying on her apron. “Especially with the security system and Rex there as well.”

  “I’m hungry, Mommy,” Tyler said, still on his knees.

  Carlie glanced at the wall clock. Twenty minutes until they opened. “Bill,” she called back to the kitchen. “Are you guys about ready to go? We could all use some breakfast before Wes and Ty leave for school.”

  Bill’s familiar grin filled the window to the kitchen. “Sure. What’ll it be?”

  “French toast and bacon, please,” Tyler piped.

  “That sounds good, partner. I’ll have the same, and throw in some extra-crispy hash browns with onions.” Wes lifted Tyler like he weighed nothing and settled him down with his bottom once again safely planted on the chair. “You want to share some hash browns, Ty?”

  “Sure, Wes.”

  Harlen chuckled. “You two are on a first-name basis, I see.”

  “We’re partners,” Tyler chortled, rising to his knees again.

  Wes shook his head, his expression stern. Tyler sat right back down. A flutter tickled Carlie’s insides, and Wes’s words about misplacing his trust in the past came back to her in a rush. Had his trust been broken by a woman, a girlfriend from his past? If so, that woman was a fool. Men like Wesley Holt were rare—rare and unobtainable to someone with a history like hers.

  Once Wes and Tyler had been fed and they’d left for Tyler’s school, things settled into the familiar rhythm of a busy Wednesday at the diner. Carlie was grateful for the distraction. Regulars filed in, men carrying their newspapers and wearing John Deere baseball caps pulled low over their foreheads, friends getting together over breakfast, locals on their way to work. Old men sat at the same spots at the counter where they always did, bantering with one another and with her as she poured their coffee and took their orders. Carlie hustled through her day, too occupied to think much about Jared.

  Working at the Perfect Diner was such a blessing. She loved the place and the constant stream of people. Leaving was going to tear her apart, but she had to have a plan B. Once Jared was back behind bars, she might have to find a new place to hide, somewhere farther away and harder to find. She’d cross that bridge when the time came.

  “Hey, Carlie.” George, a retired farmer and a lunchtime regular, took a seat on one of the stools at the counter. He studied her face. “Whoa. What’d you run into, young lady?”

  Anger burst into flame within her. “My ex-husband,” she snapped.

  George’s eyes grew wide, and his mouth opened and closed, like he didn’t know how to respond. Who could blame him? Blurting out that little factoid was a real conversation stopper. She’d answered the same question at least a hundred times already today. She saw no reason to prevaricate, since the news would be all over town anyway.

  “Sorry, George. Didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just a little testy, I guess.” Carlie turned over a ceramic cup on its saucer and slid it in front of him. “Coffee?”

  “Uh, sure. Thanks.” George grabbed the menu from the counter and studied the laminated card stock.

  “The lunch special today is shepherd’s pie with a small salad. I’ll be back to take your order in a few minutes.” She poured his coffee, and then she walked away.

  After an early supper, Wes had left for his workout at the gym in Boonville, and Carlie savored having the place to herself. Sinking back into the plush couch, she channel surfed the TV while listening to Tyler hold a one-sided conversation with Rex about the merits of Legos versus Tinkertoys. The dog’s ears stood at attention as he listened raptly to her son’s rambling.

  Relaxed and feeling safe for the moment, Carlie stretched. Wes had a nice place. The hardwood floors had been recently refinished, and the dining room had a gorgeous built-in buffet of oak, but the room was empty of any furniture. Wesley had pointed out that, since he lived alone, he had no need for a dining room table and chairs. The table in his kitchen was all he needed.

  His apartment held an old-timey charm, but with all the modern amenities. Wes had told her Paige and Ryan Malloy had lived there before they built their house, and they were responsible for bringing the place up to date.

  A knock on the door sent her heart racing. She stilled, listening. Rex’s tail wagged—a good sign. Note to self: once this is over, get a dog. A German shepherd or a Rottweiler—some kind of big, scary breed. After the second knock, she got up and crossed the room to the door. The fact that the apartment had two doors—one leading to the rear stairwell from the kitchen, and the other off the living room leading to the front stairway—bothered her. She kept both doors locked and all the blinds on the windows closed. “Who is it?” she called.

  “It’s Cory and Paige,” Paige called back.

  All the tension left her. She undid the dead bolt and opened the door. “Hey.” She gestured them in. “What brings you two by?”

  “We’ve come to whisk you away for a girls’ night out.” Cory grinned. “An evening out with a specific purpose in mind.”

  Paige nodded. “We’re signed up for a self-defense class in Boonville, and we want you to come with us.”

  “I can’t leave Tyler,” Carlie said. “I’d love to join you. I . . . I need to learn a few moves, but—”

  “It’s all been arranged,” Paige told her. “Ceejay is coming with us, and we’re going to drop your son, my son and Ryan off at the Langfords’ on our way to pick her up. We won’t stay out long. The class starts at seven, and it only lasts an hour.”

  “Noah and Ryan will both be at the Langfords’?”

  “Yep. The men are watching the children, and Wesley’s gym is practically next door to the mixed martial arts studio where we’re taking our class. If anything feels threatening, we’ll text him.”

  “He knows about this?” Her brow rose. “Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

  “We made our plans weeks ago.” Cory shrugged, her expression apologetic. “Bringing you along is a spur-of-the-moment thing. We texted Wes about it on the way over, and he’s on board. I’m sorry we didn’t include you from the start, Carlie.”

  “That’s OK.” She turned toward her son. “With my hours, and being a single mom, I haven’t really been very social. If it weren’t for my current situation, you’d have no reason to include me.” Sadly, that was the truth. Since moving to Perfect, she’d isolated herself. Ashamed of her past and still suffering from the trauma that had led her to move to Perfect in the first place, she’d crawled into her cave and hadn’t come out. Even forming friendships had seemed too great a risk to her bruised heart. She hadn’t reached out to anyone, nor had anyone reached out to her—other than Harlen and Jenny, that is. “Ty, how’d you like to go play with Toby and Lucinda for a while?”

  “Yeah.” He started throwing his Legos back into their plastic tub. “Can Rex come?”

  “Do you think we could bring the dog along?” Carlie asked Paige. “Ty feels safer having Rex with him. He’s even asked to bring him to the diner and school.”

  “I’m sure it would be fine. I’ll ask to be sure.” Paige pulled out her phone and began to text. Paige’s phone pinged almost immediately. “Ceejay says Rex is welcome.” She slid her phone back into her purse. “Looks like you’re already dressed for the class. Let’s go.”

  Carlie glanced down at her sweatpants. “I guess I am. I’ll go get my shoes. Tyler, get R
ex’s leash from the kitchen,” she called before heading to her room for sneakers.

  A few years ago, she’d been too busy working, saving and caring for her toddler to take self-defense classes, but the thought had always been there in the back of her mind. She didn’t like being defenseless—not a good position to be in at all. It was about time she learned to fight back. “I’m not a doormat,” she muttered to herself as she pulled a pair of athletic shoes from the closet.

  Hadn’t Jared learned that when she’d filed charges against him and sent him to prison? The jerk must have a serious learning disability. Excitement thrummed through her. If this class went well, she’d find a way to continue. Jenny and Harlen had volunteered to watch Tyler more than once, but Carlie had never taken them up on the offer. Now she would.

  She returned to the living room, fetched jackets from the coat closet and bundled her son into his. “Thanks for including me,” she said, smiling at the two women waiting patiently for her. “I’m really looking forward to this.”

  Ryan sat in the driver’s side of Paige’s minivan, which was parked in front of L&L. He got out and put Rex into the back while they all piled in. Tyler sat next to Sean, and he did a great job of keeping the toddler entertained on the short drive to Noah and Ceejay’s house. Toby and Lucinda were waiting for them on the front veranda with the bright porch light illuminating both of them and their monster dog, Sweet Pea.

  Toby held a couple of action figures in his hands, and when he caught sight of Tyler, he jumped up and down. “Tyler, you wanna play Transformers wif me?” he shouted before they were even out of the van.

  “Sure,” Tyler called, scampering off ahead of Carlie the second his feet hit the ground. Once he reached the porch, he stopped and turned back. “Rex,” he called, patting his thighs. “Come.”

  Ryan had just lifted the dog out of the back. Rex squirmed and whined to get free, and once his paws hit the ground, he raced to Tyler’s side, only marginally interested in Sweet Pea. In a flurry of arms and legs, the children and dogs disappeared into the house. Carlie followed the other adults to the front door. Ryan held his fussing son in his arms.