When she went to the hall cupboard to get her parka, Kyle was running lightly down the stairs, his thick wool jacket over his arm.
They tramped through the snow to the garage. She wasn’t sure the jeep would make it after all. Usually when the snow was this deep she used the snow blower to clear her drive.
Once at the garage, she let Kyle open the roll up door. The jeep had been backed in, always, for easy exit. She showed him where the shovels were and took one herself. She ramped up the snow, pounding it down with the shovel, hoping it wasn’t too light to pack and mire the jeep.
She could hear the snowplows in the distance, their steady hum reassuring. She wasn’t totally alone in the world with some crook. She considered running for the road to flag down one of the plows, but he’d overtake her in no time. Her only hope right now was if could drive out and get rid of him.
The jeep started right up, for which she was thankful. Jenny put it in four-wheel drive and slowly drove forward. It rode up their ramp and soon lumbered down, as the unpacked snow offered no resistance. Slowly she drove, praying it wouldn’t get bogged down.
Watching carefully for landmarks, she tried to keep to the driveway, though it was almost impossible to tell where it was. Clenching the steering wheel tightly, she kept the car at a crawl. Occasionally they would lurch as the jeep hit a softer pocket of snow, but Jenny would coax it back on to what she thought was the drive. Steadily she kept on, hardly aware of the silent man at her side, intent only on keeping the vehicle moving, trying to determine where she was, where the drive was. Her house was a quarter mile from the highway, but the pace made it seem much longer. Slowly they moved, the tires crunching down the snow, pushing it aside, moving forward, lurching, sliding, moving constantly.
The highway came into view. It had been plowed, with berms of snow on either side of the highway, but fortunately not making a berm she’d have to cross. Jenny was perspiring beneath her parka, her eyes aching with the strain, her hands clenched on the wheel. Only a little further, she repeated, only a little.
Finally they tilted down when they reached the plowed road. In comparison to the deep snow they had been going over, the road seemed clear and easy, though it was still snow-covered. Gradually she picked up speed until she was going at that safe speed, she relaxed a little, eased the tense muscles at her shoulders.
'You're good,' Kyle murmured gently at her side. He was totally attentive to the road, watching before them and behind, as if searching for his pursuers.
Jenny gave a reluctant look in the rear-view mirror. She wished she were heading for Palmer, instead of Strawberry. A quick trip to the sheriff’s office and her unwanted intruder would be guest of the county. She frowned—where was the police department in Strawberry? She tried to remember, but had never had a need for it before, and just didn't know where it was. Maybe she could find it. Risking a glance at Kyle, she tried to school her features so he wouldn't suspect what was whirling in her brain.
The trip to Strawberry was uneventful. Kyle didn't speak, but kept up his surveillance, glancing to Jenny once or twice as if to speak, then turning back to the window.
'Slow down here.' His voice startled her after the long silence. They were approaching the town. On the right side was the gas station, just beyond, the other wooden and brick buildings of Strawberry began.
'I want you to drop me at the gas station. Near the phone,' he said.
Jenny glanced at him, shrugged and slowed to turn into the station. The pavement had been cleared of snow and she easily brought the SUV to a stop near the pay phone. Many visitors considered it an anomaly–a public pay phone. But cell service was sketchy or nonexistent in this part of the mountains.
Stopping she looked at him.
'Jenny--' He stopped, glanced around. There wasn’t another person in sight.
'Goodbye, Kyle Martin. You'll understand if I don't say, drop in any time.'
He smiled at that.
'You never know,' he said, turning to face her, 'I appreciate your reluctant hospitality.' He reached out his hands and cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her rosy cheeks.
Jenny caught her breath at his touch, mesmerized by his eyes, soft velvet brown gazing warmly down into hers. He bent his head and put his lips against hers in a surprise kiss.
His lips were cool, warming as they rested against hers, moving a little as he took his time with the kiss. Jenny's heart raced at his touch, her hands grasping the wheel to keep from putting them around this intruder. Slowly Kyle raised his head, smiling down at Jenny.
'I've wanted to do that since I first saw you last night. Goodbye, sweet Jenny.'
She didn't reply, just watched as he got out, glanced quickly around and went to the phone. Slowly she put the car in gear and drove off. Glancing once in her mirror, she began her search for the police station. On the third cross street was the small sign, pointing to it. She looked back as she began her turn. There was no sign of the tall man dressed in black.
Jenny pulled up before the police station and stopped. Turning off the engine, she sat and stared into space. What good would it do to go in? Would they believe her? If he wasn't in the phone booth, would they be able to find him? He hadn't really hurt her, only frightened her to death. There was no lasting harm done.
Jenny frowned. Didn’t she want him caught? He’d terrified her, damaged her phone, kept her prisoner, forced her to drive to facilitate his get away.
Her mind relived the kiss, a small smile involuntarily tugging at her lips. It had been a long time since she’d been kissed. What nerve! Not that it meant anything. Anyway, he was gone. She shook her head and sighed. Reaching for the key, she started up and headed for home. Reporting would only be an exercise in futility.
***
Kyle watched as the jeep sped away. Going for the cops, would be his guess. Quickly he called his office and arranged for someone to pick him up. Then he got off the street. In case the cops gave credence to what she had to say, he wouldn’t make it easy for them to find him.
As he waited in the shadow of a doorway several blocks from where he’d been let off, he thought about the assignment. The next time some bureaucrat decided a winter foray was a good idea, Kyle would take him along. And make sure he double-checks the weather. If he hadn’t found Jenny’s house, he could have frozen to death in the storm.
Or taken his chances with Nate Fisher and Jim Sellers.
He almost smiled when he thought of his reluctant hostess. He hated scaring her, but it had been necessary to make sure she didn’t try to give him up to Nate.
He’d waken in the night and hear her breathing as she slept. It’d been too long since he’d shared a bedroom with anyone. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever find a woman to change his mind about being single. His mother never gave up hope for grandkids, but that wasn’t something he saw in his future.
For a moment he wondered if Jenny Warwick wanted children? She’d gotten a raw deal to have her husband die so young. Still time for her to find another man and raise a big family. She was pretty and smart enough not to try something stupid when threatened. He’d be there were men waiting for her to notice them once her initial grief had passed. She’d be perfect with a family. While he would continued with assignments like this one, most likely.
He tucked his hands in the jacket pocket and wondered how much longer his ride would be. He was still cold, but the shadows were safer than sunlight. He’d come too far to get caught now.
***
The dishes in the sink were waiting when Jenny entered the kitchen some time later. Without much thought, she slowly washed and dried them. Turning, she glanced to the table where Kyle had sat that morning. Gone for good.
She shook off her reverie and headed for the den. It was cold, but once the small space heater was on, the room grew warm enough to work.
Jenny loved being a bookkeeper for several small businesses in Palmer. Most of her work she did from her own home, going into town several times a we
ek at her convenience to the various offices she worked for. Granted, it was lonely sometimes, yet working on her own gave her a freedom she would not have had were she tied to an office from nine to five every day. And she had friends she’d known forever. Still, they had families to care for, husbands who came home every day. Lunches out were the extent of her social life. But she wouldn’t trade any one of her friends for anything.
When Jenny went to bed that evening, she rechecked all the locks in the house carefully, though wondered why she bothered when there was only cardboard in the small square near the back-door knob. She should have taken care of that today. She could feel the chill coming in the opening. Though unless the snow melted soon, it would be a long time before someone from town could make it through. She should have cleared her driveway that afternoon, but hadn’t wanted to be out in the cold feeling exposed. Kyle Martin had a lot to answer for.
Flicking on the light in her room, she caught sight of a small pile on her pillow. There was her phone wire, neatly coiled. Beside it was a folded note surrounding a folded hundred-dollar bill.
Jenny reached out and picked it up.
'For the downstairs phone, and the broken window. Kyle.'
The note was short, the handwriting bold and strong.
She smiled, sinking to the edge of her bed. He’d said he’d give her back her phone cord. And now he’d made reparation for the damage he'd caused. A curious housebreaker! She was suddenly glad she had not turned him in at the police station. Maybe he was a good guy after all.
'Good luck, Kyle Martin,' she murmured, remembering his kiss.
CHAPTER THREE
As the weeks went by, Jenny found herself thinking from time to time about the dark stranger who had invaded her home. She had long stopped dwelling on the loss of her husband and wishing things were different than they were. Time healed all wounds, just as her mother had told her. She still missed Johnny, would probably always miss him, but instead of thinking endlessly about him her thoughts revolved around more recent events–especially the night Kyle Martin had broken in; the breakfast they had shared; their ride to Strawberry. Always ending with the kiss. She wove fantasies in which they met under different circumstances, and...
That was where Jenny would get bogged down. She knew nothing about him.
There were so many questions she had about that night and about him. Why had he been out in one of the worst storms of winter? Where had he been going? Obviously a strongly determined man—why else persevere through a blizzard? Making up one answer after another, Jenny discarded them. She could not think of a single compelling enough reason to break into someone’s home and scare them half to death.
She was tempted to ask Nate and Jim. They, too, had been out in the storm, yet Jenny could hardly ask them without revealing she'd known about the stranger, after all. And as time passed, it became more and more awkward to bring up the topic. Questions would have been asked of her as to why she hadn't reported the break-in, why hadn't she contacted the Sheriff? She didn't want to have to explain, wasn't sure she could explain.
But time didn't diminish her thoughts of Kyle.
Would things be different today if she’d questioned him further, found out more about him? Why couldn't she put him from her mind—was it the mystery that kept her thinking about him? Or foolish daydreams? She’d do better to forget him entirely, so she told herself over and over.
***
A month after the break-in, Jenny was working in her den. The snow was still piled high around her house, the drive plowed, spring still another month or more away. She was rocking back in her chair, gazing out at the white landscape, resting her eyes from staring so long on the computer screen reviewing the tedious input she had just completed. It was quiet, peaceful. Maybe she'd take a day off and go skiing tomorrow. She was current with all her clients. A day away from the house sounded good.
The vision of a pair of warm brown eyes, smiling down at her, swam before her face. Did he ski? His tan indicated time spent outside—maybe she'd see him at the ski resort. Frowning, she pushed the image away. Time enough now to stop daydreaming about Kyle Martin. If he had been anything besides a charming house-breaker, if he’d any interest in furthering their acquaintance–after a satisfactory explanation of that night–she might have heard from him by now. After all, he knew where she lived. She picked up her pencil at the same time she heard the sound of the engine as it droned closer. Company? Delighted for a possible break, she rose and went to her front door, opening it and going out on the porch. It was cold, but sunny. Shivering a little in the crisp air, she watched as a large pick-up truck drew up and stopped. A weathered old man she’d never seen before climbed out and smiled at her.
'You Jenny Warwick?' he called.
She nodded.
'I've got something for you.'
'For me?' He didn't look like a deliveryman, and she wasn't expecting anything.
He nodded and reached back inside the truck. A large German Shepherd dog jumped down, gazing up at the old man, waiting for his command. At a swift cupping motion of the man's hand, the dog fell into step beside him. The two of them walked to the porch. Another small motion and the dog sat.
'I'm to say, "For you, to keep you company, and to protect you from other midnight intruders".' He smiled up at Jenny.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, a warm glow spreading through her as she looked down at the lovely dog. A bubble of laughter welled up. The arrogance of the man! Breaking into her home, now sending her a watchdog. A warm feeling pervaded. Kyle Martin had not forgotten her; he had sent her protection, though long after the fact. She looked at the man.
'Thank you. Won't you come in? Where's Kyle? What's he up to now?' Was he still breaking into lonely, isolated houses, she wondered.
As they went inside, the dog right beside the man, he shook his head. ‘I’m afraid I don't know any Kyle, ma'am. Might be the man who bought the dog, but he paid cash and I don't know his name. Came about a week ago, looked over all my dogs, picked out this one especially. Said he'd suit you.' He reached down to pat the dog. 'He's one of my best. Name's Shasta.'
'Hi, Shasta.' Jenny slowly held out her hand, letting the dog sniff her before gently patting him. She dropped to her knees and smiled at the dog. 'He's beautiful!'
'Obedience trained, too. The man who bought him wanted that in a dog. I've got books in the car, which will tell you how to keep him, up to snuff, how he's been trained. You won't have any trouble with Shasta.'
'Thank you, Mr.–?'
'Ben Johnson.'
'Thank you, Mr. Johnson.' Jenny stood up. 'Can I get you some coffee?'
'That would be right nice. It was a long drive up from Sacramento.'
While they had coffee, Jenny, hoping her voice was casual, asked him again about the man who had purchased the dog.
'Tall, he was. Tall and dark. Nothing much to notice about him. Was very specific about where you lived, about my bringing the dog to you. Usually whoever buys one takes them home. This one I had to deliver. But he made it worth my while.' Ben looked around. ‘Nice for me to see where Shasta’s going to be living, too.’
Jenny was conscious of a vague disappointment. Since Kyle had thought she needed protection she wished that he’d brought Shasta himself. Still, she smiled as she looked at her dog, the thought was what counted. She was torn between being exasperated at the nerve of the man, and the joy in her new present. Delight won.
Ben Johnson spent an hour with Jenny, showing her how to work Shasta with his obedience training commands–how to have him heel, sit, stay, lie down, come. Voice commands and hand signals were gone over until Jenny could do them all.
'Leaving you the books, too. You won't forget,’ Ben said as he prepared to depart.
'I'll use them all the time. Thank you, Mr. Johnson.'
'My pleasure, ma'am. Must be going now.'
Jenny turned to Shasta when the truck was lost to sight.
'So, he sent yo
u to guard me. If you only knew how funny that was. Well, we'll be great friends, my pretty dog.' As Shasta watched her talking, he slowly wagged his tail. Jenny smiled and turned to let them back into the house.
***
As spring came to the Sierra Nevada, Jenny spent long hours out of doors, walking with Shasta, hiking the woods around her home, jogging along the roads, practicing the commands, learning more and more about the large dog. She felt protected by his presence. He slept in her room at night, stayed near her during the day. And she found Shasta good company, especially after the long months since Johnny's death.
She never heard further from Kyle Martin, though she ran into Nate Fisher in town one day and couldn't resist asking him about his search in the storm.
'Never did find him, guess he left town.' Nate was uncomfortable, and changed the topic. Jenny was puzzled: what was the connection between the two of them?
Another day in town she was stopped by George Carlisle. George owned one of the largest ranches in the area. While Jenny and George's younger brother had been in the same grade in school, Jenny knew George only slightly.
'Jenny Warwick! How are you?' George smiled genially, stopping to chat with her before climbing into his car.
'I'm doing fine, thanks. How's Nick?'
'Still likes forestry work. Oregon suits him. I see you're starting to get out more.'
'Winter’s hardly conducive to being out doors a lot. I love spring.' She smiled, her hand resting on Shasta’s head, patting it absently.
'Getting over Johnny?' he asked gently.
'Yes. I still miss him, but the worst is over. Life does go on.'
'I'm glad. Maybe we could have dinner one evening,' George suggested.
'I'd like that.' She smiled and moved away as he climbed into his car. She considered the possibility of going out with George. She didn't know him well, and was a little surprised he’d showed an interest. Maybe he was just being neighborly. She had been almost a recluse since Johnny was killed. It would do her good to get out again.
I'll Take Forever Kobo Page 3