Sheltered Hearts (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 2)

by Mary Crawford

  By the time I finally find Jessica’s address, I can tell that Lexicon is eager to get out of the car and take a walk.

  I spot a patch of grass in the side yard that doesn’t look like it would be too damaged by an exuberant puppy in training. I walk around the side of the house and let Lexicon do his business. As I do, I see something through the open gate. The flash of color is mesmerizing. I lean up against the edge of the old picnic table and just watch in amazement.

  I should probably feel voyeuristic, yet somehow I don’t. I can’t look away from the artistry of her movements. Jessica is in a word — stunning. One word is not enough to describe her. She is not only stunning, but exotic, earthy, sensual and ethereal all at once. There isn’t a trace of tomboy here. I don’t even know how she can dare to describe herself that way.

  My eyes drink in her beauty as if I’ve never seen a woman before today. She is wearing a jade colored bra and some sort of deep purple and blue tutu thing ballet dancers wear. She has hot pink headphones on with black zebra stripes. It’s obvious that she has no idea that I’m even here because she’s lost in her own world of music. She is standing inside of a little gazebo that’s surrounded by hummingbird feeders. She’s performing some exotic belly dance. I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s like watching poetry: intricate, yet sexy. It’s clear that she knows what she’s doing; unlike that stripper that Stuart took me to see when we turned twenty-one. She was just a poser compared to Jessica’s skill.

  I wonder where she learned to belly dance. I think she told me that her grandpa is a pastor. I can’t imagine that belly dancing is standard curriculum in the church. Lexicon comes up and nudges my leg. It’s then I realize how long I’ve been sitting here, staring at her. Now I’m in an awkward situation; do I acknowledge how long I’ve been sitting here, or do I just pretend I haven’t seen anything?

  The decision is quickly taken out of my hands as Lexicon gives a quick bark of excitement. “Mitch? What are you doing here? As you can see, I wasn’t expecting company,” Jessica exclaims as she blushes scarlet red.

  Oddly enough, it’s my turn to blush. I thought I had outgrown that in junior high, but I guess not. Perhaps it’s what I deserve for spying on her for so long. I fish her lanyard out of my pocket and hand it to her as I stammer, “I stopped by to give you this.”

  For a moment, Jessica looks at it with confusion before saying, “Umm… thanks. I appreciate it, but you could’ve mailed this.”

  I blush even more because she’s seen through my transparent ruse to visit her. Awkward! “You’re right, I could’ve, but I also needed to come and apologize to you in person for my behavior yesterday. There was no call for the way that I treated you. You were doing absolutely the right thing and I jumped to all the wrong conclusions. I was way out of line. I came to say that I’m sorry; I want to thank you for taking the time to bring Hope to us. She is doing much better this morning. It looks like maybe we were able to get antibiotics on board in time. We’ll probably be able to save her tail from the burns.”

  Jessica sags so abruptly that she almost lands in my lap. “Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you said that. I worried about her all last night. I had a paper due in my History of Ancient Greece class, but there was no way I could concentrate on it because I was thinking so much about Hope. I think God probably got tired of hearing my prayers about that poor dog.”

  “Let me tell you, he heard his fair share from me, too,” I admit. “Stuart tells me she’s doing much better this morning. She was even doing well enough to eat soft food this morning, so she must not be in excruciating pain.”

  A second ago, I was looking into Jessica’s eyes, but now I’m just staring into space because she just suddenly disappeared. Though, it’s not difficult to figure out where she went. She’s currently on her knees, hugging the stuffing out of Lexicon and having a conversation with him like they’re long-lost buddies. Of course, he’s eating it up like nobody’s business. He has a pitiful expression on his face that would put Eeyore to shame.

  I gently tap her on the shoulder and instruct, “This is beautiful and worthy of a Hallmark moment, but technically you’re not supposed to be touching Lexicon because he’s wearing a service dog vest.”

  Jessica shoots up to her feet so quickly, my father who is a field instructor at the Firefighter Academy would be proud. Her hand flies over her mouth and she whispers in a horrified voice, “Oh my gosh! I even know better than to do that. I went to high school with someone who was blind. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that when I saw the vest. I’m so sorry.”

  I chuckle under my breath as I respond, “Don’t worry about it, Jessica. Lexicon is a pretty compelling little dog. Stuart calls him the ‘Con Dog’ because he can persuade you to do pretty much anything even when you know better. He’s just that cute and cuddly.”

  “I think it would be really hard to say no to him on a regular basis. Then again, I pretty much have a hard time saying ‘no’ to any animal. I’m probably not your best test audience. My grandma drew the line at me keeping pet spiders like in Charlotte’s Web,” she reminisces with a grin.

  I smile as I relate, “My mom’s hard line was snakes. She wouldn’t even let me have a garter snake. I never understood that. She didn’t believe me when I told her they wouldn’t poison her. She told me that I must’ve misunderstood all of my library books.”

  “With as much as you love animals, I’m surprised you didn’t become a veterinarian like Stuart,” Jessica observes.

  “I thought about it, but I don’t have money for all the years of schooling that it would take. My grandpa was helping me pay for college until he passed away and he taught at the college level for years and years. That’s what he wanted me to do and it seemed reasonable at the time. I really like business and economics. I even thought about going to law school.”

  “Why don’t you? You seem pretty smart to me. You could probably do either career. Maybe you could get a scholarship or something,” Jessica suggests.

  Her innocent words feel like burning embers to my soul. I have felt completely lost in the two and a half years since Nora died. It’s like I can’t find my bearings. People don’t really understand my grief and I can’t really explain it to them. The conversation would get really awkward if I actually told anyone the truth. How do you say to someone, “You know that person you thought was my childhood buddy — my best friend’s soon-to-be fiancé? I’ve actually been in love with her since she took me to a Sadie Hawkins dance in the ninth grade.” Unfortunately, my best friend had already laid a claim on her. So no one understands why Nora’s death completely derailed me because everyone assumes we were just casual friends. I can’t even share the truth with my best friend because it would completely destroy him. Consequently, I’m left to figure it out on my own. I’m not doing a very good job with that either. They say that time heals all wounds; I guess that just isn’t true for me. I keep waiting to get over the pain, but it’s still there like an unwanted shadow.

  I must have grimaced because Jessica lays her hand on my forearm and asks with concern, “Hey, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  I swallow hard as I answer with a wry shake of my head, “Not in the way you think, but I’ll survive.” I shift positions and call Lexicon over to my side as I try to change the subject. “Hey, is there any way that you can show me where Hope got out of the car? Maybe Lexicon can use some of his new training to help us track down some clues.”

  Jessica looks down at her attire and attempts to cover herself with her arms as she asks, “Okay, but do you mind if I throw on some clothes first? I don’t usually let anyone see me like this. You can grab yourself something to drink from the refrigerator and if you’re feeling really brave, you can try the hummus and garlic pita bread that I made the other day when I was trying my hand at vegetarian cooking. I can almost guarantee that it won’t kill you. I’ve eaten it for two days and fed it to my coworkers and no one has died yet, so I think it’s relatively safe.”


  I grin at her as I respond, “What’s a farm girl like you doing eating hummus?”

  She shrugs as she answers, “Beats me; it was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time. I was watching this really great cooking show. It convinced me that for the health of the planet and everyone I know, I needed to learn to cook like a vegetarian. After completely destroying my kitchen, I’m thinking that maybe for the health of the planet and everyone I know, I should probably just stick to cooking what I know how to cook. It was kind of a disaster. I think I doubled or tripled my carbon footprint just from all of the dishes I had to wash.”

  I laugh out loud at her description. “That sounds like the first time that Nora, Stuart and I tried to make our moms a chocolate cake for Mother’s Day. If the instructions told us to mix it on low, we were pretty sure that it would’ve been much better and fluffier if it were mixed on high. Stuart’s poor mom was cleaning cocoa powder out of her drapes and ceiling vents for months,” I explain, chuckling at the memory.

  “I bet that was a colossal mess. Is Nora your sister or Stuart’s?” she asks as she flips on lights as we walk through her kitchen. A black cat takes off like a bolt of lightning as soon as it sees Lexicon. Much to Lexicon’s credit, he does not go chasing after the cat. I guess at least some of his training is sinking in. I’m very encouraged. When he first came into our program, he had absolutely no manners at all.

  I’m trying to come up with a socially acceptable answer to that question and eventually I decide to tell Jessica the unvarnished truth. I figure it’s not much of a risk because she doesn’t really know me from Adam. She’s probably not going to judge me too harshly, given the circumstances.

  I scrub my hand over my face and notice that I probably should’ve shaved this morning, I’m not really sure why I didn’t. What a bizarre thing to notice at this very second. Oddly, that’s the way my brain works sometimes.

  “Nora was Stuart’s high school girlfriend, she was also the reason that we got into search and rescue work. Unfortunately, she lost her life on a rescue mission.”

  Jessica interrupts me and exclaims, “Oh, I’m so sorry. That is so sad, but how sweet was it that they were high school sweethearts—”

  I take a deep breath before I confess, “Sweet for them, but not so sweet for me. Sadly, I was in love with Nora almost as long as Stuart was.”

  “YOU ARE AN ASSHAT,” I assert through clenched teeth.

  Mitch reacts as if I’ve slapped him.

  “Let me get this straight. You think I’m an asshat because I fell in love when I was fourteen years old?” he asks incredulously.

  “Yes! Only a jerk steals his best friend’s girlfriend,” I explain angrily.

  “I don’t recall telling you that I actually stole Nora from him. To this day, Stuart has no idea that I had any sort of romantic feelings toward her — in the ninth grade or on the day she died; I’ve stayed loyal to him throughout our whole friendship,” Mitch retorts.

  “How could he not know if he’s your best friend? Your grief is like a neon sign,” I counter.

  “I don’t know, I always figured it was because he had his own crap to deal with and he didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with my stuff too — or maybe he just didn’t want to see it. Who knows? The bottom line is that we both loved her very much… and now she’s gone. I’m having a little trouble sorting out my life without her in it. I can’t exactly turn to Stuart and explain to him why everything was so messed up. If I did, he would know how much I loved Nora. That’s why I just keep my emotional stuff to myself.”

  “You don’t have anybody you can talk to about this? What about your family?” I ask, feeling remorseful about my snarkiness.

  Mitch shakes his head. “No, that won’t work either. His family and mine practically live out of each other’s pockets. They play Bunco, golf and go RVing. They even sponsor a local Little League team. I don’t want to put them in a position where they would have to choose sides between us if we ever started fighting, particularly if it was over a woman. It’s just a no-win situation all the way around.”

  “You can talk to me about it, I’m usually a really good listener. I have to warn you though, I may have some pre-existing bias, because this is a really hot button issue for me.”

  “That listening thing goes both ways, you know,” Mitch offers.

  I blow my bangs out of my face as I pull a pitcher of sweet tea out of the refrigerator. Thank goodness my grandma always taught me to be prepared for guests. This is pretty much the first time I’ve actually ever had to use her southern lady training, but it’s handy nonetheless.

  “That’s okay; you don’t need to hear about all the drama in my life. It’s not even really my drama. My mom just never could figure out who she was in love with between two best friends. She just bounced back-and-forth between both of them like a pinball. I was the one that got left behind in the equation. It just stings a little,” I acknowledge.

  Mitch nods as he replies, “I can imagine so. That’s one of the reasons I never said anything about my unrequited love. I didn’t have to put Nora in the position of having to choose between the two of us. We were also close growing up; it would’ve been really unfair to ask that of her.”

  “But what about what you ask of yourself? You made some pretty big sacrifices for your friends,” I point out.

  “I didn’t really have any choice. Stuart was the closest thing I had to a brother and Nora held my heart in her hands. I did my best to keep them both happy.”

  “You’re a remarkable guy, Mitch, I hope someday I have somebody in my life who is as good a friend as you,” I remark, as I take a tray of vegetables out of the refrigerator.

  Mitch’s eyes widen as he watches the pile of food grow in front of him, “I thought you said you weren’t expecting anybody,” he teases.

  “I wasn’t. If I’d been expecting you, this wouldn’t be served on paper plates. You’d get the good china and crystal glasses with flowers and the whole shebang — this is just a snack, Southern style… well, Southern style meets vegan, I guess. Okay… I’m just going to shut up right now. It doesn’t even sound appetizing to me. You can eat it if you want or not. I’m going to go upstairs and put some decent clothes on,” I say in a rush. I’m embarrassed to be half naked, rambling and sounding ditzy.

  A slow grin crosses Mitch’s face as he examines me slowly from head to toe. “I don’t know, I think I’d have to argue that you look more than decent to me. That dance was the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I run upstairs and hide in my shower. I turn the water on and barely notice it’s freezing cold. My skin is so hot from embarrassment that I could be standing under a glacier and I don’t think I’d even notice. I can’t believe he caught me belly dancing. Yes, I belly dance — but I can count on one hand the number of people who actually know that I do.

  It started during my freshman year of college. I went to school in New York. I had a roommate, Natasha. She was like, the coolest person I’d ever met. She started getting really sick about the second week of school. She went to tons of different kinds of doctors it turned out she had some bizarre form of hereditary autoimmune disorder. A bunch of the girls in the dorms decided to take a belly dancing class and put on a little show for her when she was in the hospital. I’m so clumsy; I thought that I was going to hate the class. Initially I just did it because I felt pressured by my friends to do it. It turned out that I really liked the control that it gave me over my body. For once in my life, I felt strong and sexy. After my parents decided that their drama was more important than raising me, they turned me over to my grandparents, so I was raised as a pastor’s kid or grandkid as the case may be. Conservative values were the name of the game.

  The thought of a belly dancing class was ludicrous to me, but I love the dichotomy of the freedom from rules but the discipline and tradition of belly dancing. It is exhilarating for me. Having said all that, I very rarely dance in front of
other people. And when I do, I’m usually heavily made up and in costume. When I have made public appearances for charity, I performed under the stage name Jinger Jessane. So far, I think that Mitch is the only person I know personally who knows that I belly dance besides Natasha.

  Speaking of Mitch, I guess I better hurry up and get back down there, so instead of lingering in the shower like I love to do, I give myself a speed shower and throw on some sweats. I figure he’s basically seen all of me and there aren’t really any secrets left so I throw my hair in a ponytail and head back downstairs. I guess it’s time to go face the music. I figure the upside is that I have already been just about as embarrassed as I’m ever going to get in front of Mitch — it only can go uphill from here.

  Before I reach the bottom of the stairs, I pause to listen to Mitch. It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s doing and I have to peek my head around the corner to confirm what my ears are hearing. Sure enough, Mitch is down in the floor using Midnight as a training tool for Lexicon. I cannot believe my eyes. Midnight is the pickiest cat ever. He particularly doesn’t like men. He has only granted his gift of friendship to very few people. To the best of my knowledge, he doesn’t like any men at all. In fact, it is not an understatement to say that he absolutely hates them. For him to tolerate a guy, let alone a guy with a dog, is absolutely astounding. Not only does he appear to be letting Mitch pet him, he appears to be enjoying it.