Sparring Partners

by Leigh Morgan

  "Take my arm, Irma. Let me help you."

  She hit him with her cane. Not too hard, just enough to let him know who was boss. "Young man, I've been getting out of vehicles since Ford created the Model-T. I think I can get down from this one. Now give me your hand."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She made a sound in the back of her throat that Shay took to mean she was pleased with his response and held out her arm. When her foot slipped on the floor board Shay caught her and set her gently on the ground. She was so light and fragile he hoped he hadn't bruised her in the process.

  "You're not old enough to have ridden in a Model-T when it was new, Mrs. MacDonald."

  "Don't flirt with me young man. I'm immune. I was two before Ford moved on to a new model. My father kept his 1927 Model-T until he died in 1957. Still ran beautifully when my mother finally sold her. I have many fond memories of that car."

  Shay walked slowly, not pushing her to walk faster than she was able. They'd only made it a few steps when he heard Reed's voice calling out to them. "Irma."

  Shay turned to see Reed running toward them, hair tossed and flecked with blades of grass, wearing a flimsy summer dress that could have passed for a night gown. He'd never actually seen her in a dress before. It was quite disconcerting, but not half as much as seeing the man slowly making his way up the hill behind her, the same grass in his hair, shirt untucked. Shay stopped breathing, his free hand fisting at his side.

  What was it about tall, dark men with long hair that made women completely lose their sense?

  By the time Reed reached them she was out of breath and her cheeks were pink. Shay couldn't tell if that was from embarrassment, exertion, or both. He sure as shit didn't want to think about what kind of exertion she may have been engaged in with Bennett.

  "Irma, you're early. I saw you trip, are you all right?"

  Irma waved away Reed's concern and gripped Shay's arm as she steadied herself with her cane. "Mr. O'Shay was simply playing the role of gallant gentleman lending me assistance. I'm fine."

  Reed looked at him and smiled. Shay didn't smile back when he said, "You're wearing a dress?"

  She cocked her head at him like it was something she did every day. Shay knew better. Still, he wished he hadn't sounded so accusatory. Predatory was how he was feeling, but he needed to control that. Reed had made it clear that her affection for him did not cross the line of friendship into the land of the physical, even though she knew he'd be happy to go there with her if she were willing. She wasn't willing. Not with him anyway. That hurt and pissed him off almost as much as the fact that there was nothing he could do about it, Bennett or no Bennett. That didn't mean he had to like it.

  "You don't like it?"

  She asked it as if she didn't have a clue how hard it was seeing her dress up for another man was for him. Shay rubbed his eyes with one hand, felt Irma's cane jab him in the ribs and forced himself back to the land of reality. The fact was, Reed didn't have a clue. Since the first time he tried to kiss her, he'd kept his feelings to himself, hiding behind his smiling big-brother veneer, dating everything and anything in a skirt between twenty-one and fifty-one, who was interested.

  Irma answered before he could, giving him time to don his Irish-devil-may-care smile again. "Of course he likes it dear. It's lovely. I think what Mr. O'Shay was concerned about had something to do with a date the two of you had to practice some sort of weapon this afternoon. Can you do that in a dress, dear?"

  Irma MacDonald may God bless your Scots soul, Shay thought, thankful the old woman had been paying attention as he rambled on the way here.

  Reed's eyes flashed to his at the same time Bennett joined them. He didn't touch Reed, but he was standing way to close.

  "Oh, Shay. Sai practice. I forgot we scheduled it for this afternoon. I'm sorry. With Irma coming and..." she looked at Jordon briefly then back at him. Flushing eight shades of pink she continued, "everything else that's happened, it slipped my mind."

  Shay wanted to hit something, preferably Bennett. He must have sensed Shay's animosity because he stepped up giving Shay a look Shay couldn't read. The man seemed to know Shay wanted to knock his teeth out, but he wasn't rubbing Shay's face in it. If anything, he seemed to understand. Shay held his gaze for a moment before Jordon looked at Reed and nodded toward the house.

  "Go change and grab your gear. Henry, Finn and I can see that Mrs. MacDonald gets settled in."

  Reed hesitated and Jordon took command. "Go. Have a good time. I need the time to get my things settled here anyway. So does Henry."

  Shay watched as Reed's back stiffened, just as Irma's had earlier. "You're not staying."

  "I am." Jordon didn't raise his voice, but the finality in his tone wasn't lost on Reed or the rest of his audience. "We can have this conversation now or after you and Shay have had a chance to work out with weapons. It's up to you when we talk. Outcome's the same. I'll be here when you get back. Now go. Have a good time."

  Reed must not have wanted to fight in front of her newest tenant because she looked at Irma and then at Shay before she jogged off. "Give me five minutes."

  Shay had all he could do to nod and watch her go, knowing it was for keeps this time. The way she acted with Bennett, combined with Bennett's reaction to her, said better than words could have that Reed Mohr was unequivocally off the market.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Henry finished installing the last of the surveillance equipment around the house and the perimeter of the property before any of Potters Woods' usual residents returned home. He managed to fully wire Finn's workshop as well. He knew it wasn't necessary to bug her workshop, but he did it anyway, telling himself he was only interested in maintaining security, knowing full well it was a lie. He wanted to keep an eye on Finn. It was that simple and that complex, he thought, shaking his head at his own idiocy as he shut the door to Finn's workshop.

  The cat, Freya, materialized out of the trees, silent, until she unleashed a growl any self respecting canine would be proud of, making Henry stop just outside Finn's door.

  "What? I'm not going to hurt her you know. It's more likely that mistress of yours will be stomping all over me, so run away do something cat-like. Leave me alone."

  "When did you start talking to yourself?"

  Henry whipped around. "I wasn't talking to myself, I was talking to...oh never mind." Henry glanced back toward the trees. His feline tormentor was gone. With relief he turned back to Jordon. "Were you looking for me?"

  "Finn actually. Is she around?"

  "No. She snuck out to met that jail-bait painter of hers for a little tete-a-tete."

  Jordon grinned at him through tired eyes, making Henry wish they'd been the ones going to the dojo to train instead of Reed and Shay. He could use a target to help him exorcize the frustration he felt every time he got within five feet of Reed's aunt. Jordon would do as well as any other target, especially if he kept grinning like a fool at Henry's expense.

  "You only use French when you're pissed off about something. So why would Finn meeting with her painter bother you? How do you know he's jail bait and why does it matter?" Jordon asked.

  Henry shrugged, trying to pretend Finn running to her lover didn't bother him. "I checked him out, just like I did with everyone who has any tie to this place when you asked me to find out Reed's ring size. I knew who he was before you decided to buy the mortgage to this place."

  Jordon stopped smiling. "So is there more to this than voyeurism and the desire to get into Finn's pants? Is this guy a threat?"

  Henry laughed without mirth. "No more than a remora is a threat to the shark it's attached to."

  Jordon visibly relaxed, seemingly happy to yank Henry's chain once again now that he knew there was no threat to Reed or Potters Woods.

  "So now Finn's a shark. Does she devour young painters whole, or only mature heads of security?"

  Maybe Henry could talk him into going a round or two without pads, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to
kick Jordon's ass. He supposed he should thank him for the diversion, but Henry wasn't in a thankful frame of mind.

  "Give it a rest, Jordon. I'm attracted to her, that's all. I'll get over it. I always do."

  "She's beautiful and talented. Reed showed me some of her paintings and some of the metal work she's done. There are little statues hiding all over the place around here. A bit whimsical for my taste, but she's good. She's also kept them out of bankruptcy longer than even I would have thought possible. She's got a good financial mind. Hard to get a woman like that off your mind."

  "If she's so great why didn't you marry her?" Henry said, more than a little annoyed.

  He didn't need his best friend reciting a list of Finn's attributes. He'd figured them out already, and was actively thinking up reasons why he didn't like attractive, smart women, especially tall ones with denim blue eyes and curves Reubens would have drooled over.

  "She's not a red-headed elf."

  Jordon's answer made no sense to Henry. "What?"

  "She's not Reed, you moron. That's why I wouldn't marry her. What's gotten into you?"

  A blond amazon with a body made for sin and eyes that promised heaven.

  Henry didn't say the words out loud. Jordon wouldn't understand how Henry could fall so hard or so fast. Jordon was falling for Reed but that didn't mean he realized how far gone he was, and he certainly wouldn't cut Henry any slack for following his lead.

  With Reed, everything was different, from the way Jordon hid who he was to the way his voice changed when he said Reed's name. Henry had never actually seen Jordon get angry or raise his voice to any woman like he did with Reed. That shocked him at first, but Henry was getting used to it. He wondered if Jordon ever would.

  "Nothing's gotten into me that I can't handle." Henry changed the subject. He was sick of talking about his love life, or lack of the same. "Did you tell Reed that you own the mortgage on this place yet?"

  "That's a conversation I hope I don't have to have anytime soon. She's got enough to deal with right now with out adding that to the list."

  "Reed may not figure it out, but Finn's going to when she writes the next check to the bank."

  "No she won't." Jordon ran a hand through his overly long hair pushing it ruthlessly away from his forehead. "At least she won't if she doesn't look too hard. I asked the bank to deposit all the funds they receive from Potters Woods into a cash account in Reed and Finn's names."

  "That'll last until she asks for a statement." Henry said.

  "Don't remind me."

  "You're playing with fire here, Jordon. Tell Reed who you are and why you need her before she finds out on her own. She likes you. She can handle it. If you wait, she'll think you lied to her, and Reed doesn't strike me as the kind of woman who takes deception well. She's too straight forward for that. How's she going to feel when she finds out you bought her home out from under her while she and Finn are working so hard to bring in funds wherever they can?"

  "I'm doing what I always do, deal with the situation as it stands. Improve it and move on." Jordon said, like it was no big deal. Henry knew better. Neither of the Mohr women were going to appreciate the fact that Jordon now owned their home.

  "What if they don't want to improve their situation?"

  "They have to sometime, Henry. The money Irma's bringing in won't last long."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Irma's dying. She's got days," Jordon bent and picked up an errant landscaping stone, putting it in his pocket. He was always doing that, picking up odd things with no inherent value and keeping them. Henry never could figure out why.

  "Maybe she's got weeks, but not months. Reed and Finn are going to have to find a different route to solvency soon."

  "Did Irma tell you that?" Henry asked.

  "No. She didn't have to. She's got the same haunted look my grandma had just before she told us about the cancer diagnosis, like she's getting all her ducks in a row before she settles in for the big nap."

  Henry let that go. Irma didn't look that sick to him, but Jordon had a sixth sense when it came to people, and in Henry's experience, he was usually right. That's why it was so amazing to him that Jordon had no sense at all when it came to Reed.

  Henry locked Finn's workshop using the tools he had made for just that purpose. He left the shop exactly as he found it except for the tiny cameras and microphones he installed.

  "I'm done here. The house is wired too. I've got the perimeter cameras in place already so we're covered. Buying the forty acres surrounding this place made that easy. What are you going to do with it when this is over?" Henry asked.

  Jordon wasn't even subtle with changing the subject.

  "Where did you get that bacon you cooked this morning? I looked and I couldn't find one item of real food in that kitchen. Who came up the idea to make milk out of almonds? It's undrinkable. Everything else I could find is either cheese or fake meat made out of beans. If I want to eat beans, I'll eat beans. The thought of eating a burger made of beans makes me sick. Damn, I need some real food."

  Henry got the message. This conversation is now over. No more talk of women or who now owns what.

  "Jesse's a teenager." Henry said, rolling with the subject change. He didn't really want to think of Finn anymore anyway. "The kid's gotta know a good pizza place that delivers. All we have to do is track that him down. How does extra pepperoni sound to you?"

  Jordon smiled. "Jesse's sitting on the back porch with Irma. She's sipping a martini, and he's shoveling in buckets of organic popcorn. Even the snacks in this house are healthy. This is going to be harder than I thought."

  "I ordered that giant refrigerator you wanted. It'll be here tomorrow. I'll stock it with meat, real milk, and stuff chocked full of high-fructose corn syrup for you."

  "Thank God."

  Henry let that one go. Jordon cared too much about his health to eat too much garbage, but the man sure liked potato chips, onion dip, and french fries. Not to mention, red meat, not made from soybeans.

  "You know you're kidding yourself if you think you can avoid telling Reed just how long you plan on invading her home, right?"

  Jordon didn't answer. Henry sighed. Jordon was a big boy and he was just going to have to figure this one out on his own. No amount of security, friendship, or pushing was going to get him to do it any faster. Since he couldn't save the man from himself, Henry asked the question he really wanted answered.

  "Why were you looking for Finn?"

  "I wanted to ask her about something that happened about nineteen or twenty years ago."

  "Okay, I'll bite. What could have happened that long ago that has anything to do with us being here now?"

  Jordon stopped walking and turned to face Henry. He hadn't looked this serious since they snuck into the Russian Consulate's office during a party to raid whatever information they could find on possible expansion of Russian oil pipelines. They made it as far as the bathroom then before deciding diplomacy was a better alternative to get the information they needed prior to investing in the region. This time Jordon looked more determined.

  "I need you to find someone for me. She's about nineteen now." Jordon filled him in on what he knew about the circumstances surrounding Reed putting her daughter up for adoption and what he wanted Henry to do once she was found.

  "You think that's going to buy your way out of the shit pile when you leave?"

  "We just got here Henry. There hasn't been time to create a shit pile yet. Let's not jump into or out of something that may not happen for weeks or months. It may not happen at all."

  The proverbial shit hit the fan later that night.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Reed closed her eyes briefly, thankful for the soreness that settled into her bones after making its way through muscle and tissue. With the soreness came clarity. She always saw the world in a new, more hopeful light after training in the dojo, whatever problems she had ceased to loom large allowing her to see with perspective a
gain.

  The dojo and the odd cast of characters who trained there were like home and family for Reed. A flawed, but supportive, loyal family, with more than one weird cousin, accepting of one another regardless of age, sex, ethnicity, religious practice or income. Everyone was welcome and accepted here, as long as they trained sincerely. The dojo community was her shelter from the chaos of life, it was what kept Reed balanced when other parts of her life shot paint balls at her head.

  But not today. Today was different. The dojo didn't feel like home and Shay didn't feel like family. He wasn't even acting like her friend.

  Sai training had gone well enough. Neither she nor Shay had a chance to dwell on anything but the moment and the cathartic release that came with working weapons well with a trained partner. But as soon as they stopped, there was no more euphoria, only a sense of aloneness that Reed hadn't felt in Shay's company since the day they met. Something in Shay shifted. He was no longer her happy leprechaun.

  Reed didn't bother changing out of her gi before asking Shay to drive her home. She thought about calling Jordon to pick her up, but that would have just added salt to the wound Shay seemed to already be feeling.

  The trip back to Potters Woods seemed like minutes spent in a dentist's chair, ten times reality. Shay didn't say a word, and Reed didn't know how to get her best friend back. She was sorry she forgot their weapons training session. She was sorry she let him see her in a dress. She was sorry they didn't click on the one date they actually did go on, but there was nothing she could do about any of it. And if the truth be told, she was sick to death of being sorry.