The Asset

by Anna del Mar

  His eyes lingered on my face for a few seconds too long. “Clear.”

  “What?” I said.

  “You can go now,” he said. “To feed your animals.”

  “Oh, yes.” I charged for the door, but his voice stopped me at the threshold.

  “You never walk to the door,” he mumbled, looking through his scope. “You run for it.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Never mind.” He glanced at Neil, snapped his fingers and motioned for the German shepherd to follow me. “Go with her.”

  “Come on, lover.” I patted my thigh.

  The dog trotted over to me, but hesitated at the door and grumbled a drawn-out woof.

  “Neil doesn’t like to leave you behind,” I said. “Is he trained to stick by you?”

  Ash sighed and, turning from the scope, fixed his gaze on me. “And you say I ask too many questions.”

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

  “I don’t like certain places and situations with lots of people these days,” he said, straightening on his feet. “That’s why I came out here. I’m not crazy or psychotic or anything like that.”

  Post-traumatic stress disorder. “I know.”

  “He helps with that stuff.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me.”

  “But I did tell you about Neil, just as I told you about that woman in Iraq, and for a very specific reason.” He set his rifle aside and leaned against the windowsill. “I don’t want you to fear me. I don’t want you to feel unsafe in your own house, and I mean more unsafe than you already feel.”

  I shifted from one foot to the other. I wrung my hands until they hurt. How could I reply to a statement like that without breaking into a billion little pieces? His words did reassure me, but I couldn’t acknowledge his kindness or deviate from my path. Silence was the safer course of action, even if it disappointed the expectations I spotted in his eyes.

  “Neil and I will bring you breakfast after we feed the guys,” I finally said.

  He gave me a curt nod. “I’ll be watching.”

  He was indeed watching when I went out to the backyard. Maybe I was a fool, but as I crossed the pasture and let the animals out of the barn, the world around me seemed like a safer place.

  I fed and watered the animals. I cleaned the stalls, laid out some fresh straw and groomed both the pony and the donkey. I added some nectar to the busy hummingbird feeders throughout the backyard. Neil had a blast terrorizing the chickens.

  By the time I made it back to the kitchen, Ash hopped about on his crutches downstairs. Thankfully, he wore a T-shirt, which meant I could think with a degree of clarity. He’d fitted the IV to his camelback and strapped it to his back so he could move about hands free.

  The good news? He welcomed me with a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee. The bad news? He rummaged through my pantry like a marine with a mission.

  “What the hell do you eat for breakfast around here?” He inspected my cupboard, holding the sparse offerings he found at arm’s length as if they were nuclear waste. “Are you a junk food addict?”

  “I’ve got some cereal somewhere in there.” I grabbed a couple of boxes and shook the empty one. “Well, maybe not Lucky Charms, but you can have some Cocoa Puffs if you’d like.”

  “Have you heard of proteins, fresh fruits and vegetables?” he said “They’re food groups, the kind that provide some nutritional value to your body?”

  “Ha,” I said. “Are you also a comedian?”

  “You can’t live on junk like this,” he said. “No wonder you look like a little breeze could topple you over.”

  “I don’t need much,” I said. “Besides, that stuff is cheap and it tastes good. Who doesn’t like Lucky Charms?”

  “You’ve got the palate of a three year old.” He looked in the old Frigidaire. “There isn’t enough food here to sustain a grown-up, let alone two of us. And how about some fresh milk to go with the kiddie cereal that no mom in her right mind would allow her child to eat?”

  “Sorry, but your first, last and deposit are already spent,” I said. “I had to catch up with the rent and stock up on feed for the animals.” No sense telling him about my escape fund. “Milk is next week when I get paid.”

  “Looks like I’ll need to do a food intervention before that,” he said. “Maybe you can pick up some things at the convenience store when you go into town?”

  “I guess I could do that.”

  “Also, I scheduled the cable guy to come out this afternoon. Please don’t shoot him when he knocks on the door.”

  “Have you mistaken me for a Rockefeller?” I smashed the empty cereal box in the trash can and grabbed my cup of coffee. “I can’t afford cable out here. It’s crazy expensive.”

  “It’ll be under my name and on my dime,” he said. “I can’t be a proper hermit without internet and you’ve got to complete your online caregiver class.”

  “But—”

  Out in the yard, Neil barked. My heart broke out into a wild gallop. I leaped to the window, splashing coffee all over, straining to see who was coming up the hill.

  “At ease.” Ash grabbed a rag and wiped the floor with mind-boggling efficiency. “It’s just one car and he’s not sneaking around.”

  “Is that what your Spidey senses are telling you?”

  “Neil wouldn’t allow anyone to sneak up on us,” he said. “He knows I don’t like surprises.”

  I didn’t like surprises either. They made me sick to my stomach. I suppressed the urge to lunge for the shotgun, but only because Ash’s studious gaze stuck with me as I pressed my nose to the window.

  Sixty seconds later, a car came up the hill. I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted Jordan Meddler in his convertible. He got out of the car and came to door, trailed by Neil, who wagged his tail and sported his best doggy smile. Those two were meant to be lifelong friends.

  Tall, lean and lanky, Jordan ran marathons in his time off, which also accounted for the tan that darkened his otherwise fair complexion and the blond streaking his short hair. I met him at the door. The smile froze on his lips when he caught sight of Ash in the kitchen.

  “Jordan, this is Ash,” I said. “Ash, this is Jordan, the doctor I told you about.”

  “Hey,” Ash said. “Sorry about your nose.”

  Jordan fingered the bony bridge of his nose self-consciously. It was made even more prominent by the Band-Aid he wore over it and the bruises underscoring his hazel eyes. “What’s he doing out of bed?”

  “Oh, he’s got his own crazy ideas about convalescing,” I said. “Guess what? They don’t include a bed.”

  “Mr. Hunter—”

  “Call me Ash.” He shuffled on the crutches to the coat stand and groped through his coat’s pockets. “Everybody else does.”

  “Ash,” Jordan said, setting his vet bag on the table. “You really shouldn’t try to undo Lia’s efforts. She worked hard to make you better.”

  “You’re right about that one.” Ash fished out a couple of protein bars from his coat and, after opening one, tossed it in my direction. “Try this for nutrition, Lia. Doc?”

  Jordan shook his head. “I already had breakfast.”

  “Are you perchance a Lucky Charms kind of guy?” Ash asked.

  Jordan grimaced. “I’d rather eat dirt.”

  “Great news.” Ash winked at me. “You’ll live a lot longer than Lia.”

  The wink shot through my body like a steel ball in a pinball machine. It raced, spun and bounced up and down my spine, lighting up my body’s gates all the way down to my toes. Alarms rang in my head. Jackpot.

  Oh, no, not this type of a reaction again. I made a conscious effort to ignore my wild emotions. I bit into the protein bar and made a face. �
�Speaking of dirt...”

  Ash laughed. “I said nutrition, not flavor.” He tore open the wrapper with his teeth and spat out the foil. “Lia tells me that you and your brother got me out of trouble, Doc. So I thank you. I’ll have to think of a way to pay you back in addition to taking care of the bill.”

  “That was a nasty little infection you had going there.” Jordan’s gaze fell on me. “I wouldn’t have touched it if it hadn’t been for Lia. She can be very persuasive.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Ash chomped down on his protein bar. “No arguments there. One look at those stunning gray eyes and you just want to do whatever the hell she says.”

  Stunning? My eyes? Had I heard right? I had to force my heart to beat in sync again. Surely, I’d heard wrong. Yes, that had to be it.

  Jordan cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Mr. Hunter—Ash. Perhaps now you can be persuaded to seek proper treatment elsewhere?”

  “Lia’s got it covered,” Ash said. “She’s trying to get through to the VA to arrange for regular doctor’s appointments. If anybody can do it, it’s her. She’s got grit.”

  “Is that so?” Jordan said stiffly. “Well, until then, I’d keep the antibiotics going.” He put a hand on my back and motioned toward the kitchen door. “Lia, may I speak to you privately?”

  “Sure.” I started for the door. “If it’s about Izzy’s hoof, I think it’s getting better—”

  “It’s not about Izzy’s hoof,” Ash said. “I guarantee it.”

  “No?” I halted in my tracks, confused.

  “No,” Ash said.

  Jordan’s eyebrows drew together. “Is there something bothering you?”

  “Not yet.” Ash eyed the other man with a glimmer in his eye. “But soon.”

  Jordan’s hand wilted off my back. “I don’t follow.”

  “Nothing’s bothering me yet, but something will bother me in a moment,” Ash explained, leaning casually against the counter.

  “You mean because I asked to speak with Lia privately?” Jordan said.

  “That too.”

  I stared from one man to the other. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m thankful that the doc here helped me out, I really am.” Ash downed the last of the protein bar and licked his fingers. “Far be it for me to act like an ungrateful son of a bitch. But I don’t like this next part where he pulls you aside and tells you that now that I’m better you should ask me to leave.”

  “Leave?” I said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He sipped on his coffee. “This is the part where he says he’s not sure about me. I could be off. I could be dangerous too.”

  Jordan opened his mouth and closed it.

  “Admit it, Doc.” Ash flashed his wicked smirk. “Isn’t that what you were about to say?”

  “Someone has to look after Lia’s interests,” Jordan said. “She’s a woman living alone, away from town. She’s kind and caring and it would be a real shame if someone tried to take advantage of her.”

  “Jordan?” I said. “Ash is not trying to take advantage of me. I asked him to stay. He’s actually helping me out by paying rent. He’s Wynona’s grandkid, for God’s sake.”

  “When you care for dangerous species,” Jordan said, “you’re bound to get hurt.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Reptiles,” Ash said. “More specifically, venomous ones like cobras and rattlers, the sort of vicious, unpredictable snakes that will bite the hand that feeds them. Ain’t that right, Doc?”

  “It was just a figure of speech,” Jordan said.

  “See, Lia, the doc wants to warn you,” Ash said. “Guys like me, coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan, we’re iffy. If there’s a shooting somewhere, everybody thinks it’s one of us. The studies aren’t conclusive yet, but we could be off. Doc wants you to know that.”

  “Jordan knows better than to make huge generalizations like that,” I said. “Don’t you, Jordan?”

  “I’m not saying that Ash is a bad person or anything like that, but...”

  “But what?” I said.

  “You told me you wanted a woman tenant, remember?” Jordan said. “You were wary and rightly so. You never expected a guy like him to show up at your door. Think about what people in town will say when they find out.”

  I stared at Jordan for a full thirty seconds, until the full implication of his insinuation hit me. “I don’t care what people say.” My cheeks burned. “If people want to jump to the wrong conclusion, that’s their problem.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Jordan, stop,” I said. “Ash has been through a difficult time. He’s come home and he deserves a fair welcome.”

  “Actually,” Ash said, “the more the doc talks, the more I like him.”

  It was my turn to stare at Ash. “You do?”

  “I wasn’t trying to get you to like me,” Jordan muttered.

  “I know.” Ash crumpled up the foil wrap and, with a flick of his wrist, tossed it into the trash can. “But, still, I appreciate a guy who watches over his friends, especially if that friend is Lia.”

  “I worry about her.” Jordan’s tone sounded less like concern and more like a warning.

  “That makes two of us,” Ash said, matching Jordan’s tone.

  “I’m standing right here,” I said, not a little irritated. “I don’t need anybody to worry about me.” Especially when I did enough of that for the three of us.

  “Well, see, I’m not really convinced that Lia’s well-being is foremost in your mind.” Jordan flashed a joyless smile.

  Ash’s smirk was equally mirthless. “I’m not out to convince you, Doc, but since I’m around, you don’t have to worry so much.”

  What the heck? I looked from one man to the other. It was like watching a Ping-Pong match. The mood in my kitchen had taken a turn for the worse and I couldn’t figure out why.

  “Come on, Lia.” Jordan appropriated my elbow. “Let’s go check on Izzy.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “Yes, by all means, kids, go check on Izzy.” Ash twirled his fingers goodbye. “I’ll make some fresh coffee and I’ll be waiting, right here, when you two come back.”

  * * *

  Jordan left in a rush after examining Izzy’s hoof, avoiding the cottage altogether, declining the cup of coffee that Ash offered. I lingered in the barn, determined to fit a workout into my busy day. I’d missed my exercise while taking care of Ash, a routine that helped me to keep fit and control my anxieties. I stripped down to my tank top. With the mountain lion around and Fish and Wildlife not answering my calls, I forwent trail running for the moment.

  Instead, I mounted the rusted treadmill I’d picked up at Goodwill, and, cranking the speed setting, went at it with all I had. Every time fatigue threatened to slow me down, I reminded myself that, as per my own experiences, cardiovascular endurance was vital to any successful escape. Run, Lia, run. That’s what I’d done for a while. That’s what I was destined to do for as long as I lived.

  Forty minutes later, I stepped down, sweaty and breathless. My muscles twitched from the strain. Holding my side, I studied the diagrams I’d pinned on the back wall, before I began to practice my strikes on the straw-filled sack I’d recently strung on the beam.

  The tricky heel kick I’d been trying to perfect sent the bag swinging wide. It bounced against the wall and came back at me with a vengeance. It struck me square on the chest and shoved me butt-first into the ground. I hit the dirt with a grunt. The air swooshed out of my lungs. I sprawled on the floor for a full sixty seconds, struggling for breath, staring at the rippling ceiling beams.

  “Score one for the bag.”

  I craned my neck and made upside down eye contact with Ash. He grinned then shuffled forward on th
e crutches. Neil trotted over, sniffed me and promptly began to lap at my neck and shoulder. I caught his face in my hands to prevent him from licking me to death. I flushed. Maybe I could be the cover girl for The Idiot’s Self-Defense Guide.

  “How long have you two been watching?”

  “Long enough.” Ash stood over me, offered a hand and pulled me up.

  I groaned like an old lady and bent over my knees, trying to catch my breath.

  “Don’t just lay there like a stationary target,” Ash said. “You’ve got to counterattack right away. You’ve got to keep moving, even if you can’t breathe.”

  “It’s hard to think without oxygen flowing to your brain.”

  “If you don’t think, you die.” He examined the diagrams on the wall. “Krav Maga?”

  I nodded, still sucking for breath.

  “Interesting,” he said. “I don’t know too many civilians who practice it.”

  “It’s all the rage in urban gyms.”

  “Shows what I know after years of consecutive deployments,” he said. “How long have you been training?”

  “Apparently, not long enough.” I straightened and slapped the dirt off my butt. “What’s the point if even the punching bag can beat me?”

  “It’s all about muscle memory.” He inspected my improvised punching bag. “You start with the simple movements and repeat them until you have them down pat. Then you build on that. But first, your bag is too light. You’ve got to find a proper opponent.”

  His eyes scanned the barn. He grabbed a three-legged stool and, after plunking it behind the punching bag, bent his knee and balanced his injured leg on it. He braced the bag between his arms. “Let’s see you throw a cross-body punch.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me,” he said. “Come on, little girl, give it a try.”

  Little girl?

  I hurled my fist at the bag. Ash moved it slightly to one side. My knuckles skimmed the burlap and burned with the brief contact.

  “Your opponent won’t be standing still waiting for a hit,” he said. “Be aware. Plant your feet first, claim your real estate. Krav Maga is about speed, maximum effectiveness and preemptive attack.”