Bachelor Protector

by Julianna Morris

  “Trust?” Tyler finished, correctly guessing what she’d started to say. “Don’t tell me someone with a Pollyanna nature has trust issues.”

  “Pollyanna?” she repeated.

  “That’s what your cousin called it when he was investigating your so-called accident.”

  Sarah vaguely recalled Zach saying something of the kind, but she’d been in shock and hadn’t paid much attention. “He’s wrong—I’m not a Pollyanna. If it makes you happy, I’ll even concede that someone may have tried to rob me.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I didn’t change my mind, I’m just admitting the possibility. So, how did Nathan’s visit to the clinic go?”

  “Now you’re trying to change the subject.”

  Sarah gave him a hostile look. “Would you rather talk about your marriage plans? I know several single women I could introduce you to.”

  “No, thanks. According to reliable sources, I’m poor husband material. Not that it bothers me. I like being a bachelor. Besides, my career plans don’t have room for a wife and kids.”

  She didn’t doubt it. Tyler probably rehearsed ways to warn women that he didn’t want a long-term relationship. But she suspected there was more to his “I’m poor husband material” statement.

  She turned to cross near the bank, but Tyler caught her arm, carefully checking both directions on the street, which was still quiet. His old-fashioned protectiveness was nice, if unnecessary.

  “Do you always cross here?” he asked after she’d dropped the deposit envelope in the bank slot.

  “Pretty much. We all do, even visitors. When Zach became police chief, he asked the city council if they wanted his officers to start writing jaywalking tickets, but the city council felt it would be bad for tourism. Instead they added crosswalks to blocks with high foot traffic.”

  “Eliminate the crime, instead of dealing with the criminal?”

  Sarah cocked her head. “That’s harsh. Jaywalking is hardly a major offense.”

  “It’s still breaking the law.”

  She resisted calling him an uptight prig or admitting that until the crosswalk had been added, she’d gone to the corner. It was a safety issue, but she didn’t see the point of being dour about the whole thing.

  That wasn’t to say Tyler’s life hadn’t been grim lately, so maybe there was some justification for it. Still, from what Rosemary had said, he’d been born serious and never changed.

  To each their own, she supposed, but she preferred viewing the world around her with more joy. Laughter made everything better.

  “I guess we just see things differently,” she said as they went back across the street, not wanting to get into an absurd argument. “Did your brother go to Stockton with my father this morning?”

  “They left around 7:00 a.m. I understand they’re fetching fish and other supplies.”

  “We have a last-minute catering job tonight. I planned to go down myself, but Dad insisted.”

  He always insists, she added silently. It was sweet, yet frustrating at the same time.

  They stopped in front of the bakery, and Sarah shifted from one foot to the other. Her grandparents had instilled strict rules about hospitality, and while she hadn’t needed an escort to the bank, Tyler Prentiss had believed he was being helpful.

  “Uh, do you want a cup of coffee?” she asked, unlocking the door. “The first batch should be brewed by now.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Sarah went behind the counter and checked the coffee makers. “What’s your preference?” she asked.

  “Poppy Gold special blend, if you have it.”

  “I couldn’t stay in business if I didn’t serve the Poppy Gold blend.” She took his cup and filled it. “Cream and sugar?”

  “Not for me. Mind if I sit and make a phone call?”

  “No problem.”

  Sarah swiftly began setting out insulated pitchers of half-and-half and coconut milk creamer.

  “I’ll finish,” said Aurelia as she breezed in from the back. But she looked confused when she spotted Tyler sitting at a table, phone to his ear. “Did you open early?”

  “No. Mr. Prentiss witnessed my accident yesterday. He was concerned about the safety of my morning deposit, so he walked to the bank with me this morning. Now he’s making a call.”

  Aurelia’s expression turned friendlier. She’d heard about the motorcycle incident—the story had spread rapidly. No matter how strongly Sarah tried to downplay the idea of an attempted robbery, the possibility worried her staff.

  It could have been a botched robbery. Her impressions were mostly of a rider veering toward her, but she’d been so distracted by thoughts of having to remodel again that she hadn’t jumped out of the way in time.

  An alarm chimed softly, reminding them that there were five minutes until opening, so Sarah left Aurelia and David, who’d arrived, as well, to handle the remaining tasks. The usual Saturday line of customers had formed outside the front door, and she waved before heading into the kitchen.

  Yet all at once she shivered, realizing one of those customers could have been behind the helmet worn by the motorcyclist or be the one responsible for the anonymous complaint.

  One of them could even be making the silent calls.

  * * *

  TYLER’S GRIP TIGHTENED on his phone as the president of the Lexington Consortium explained they were putting their building plans on hold for a while. He was barely aware of the cheerful chatter around him as people purchased baked goods and candy.

  “The consortium is rethinking the project,” Jeff Drake explained. “I’ll let you know if they decide to move forward as is or if they’re going in a different direction.”

  Tyler had been listening to his voice mail messages from the office when Jeff’s call had come through. He’d taken it, knowing the consortium would probably back out of their deal because of that damned article. Not that Jeff was admitting it was the reason.

  “I understand,” Tyler said, trying to keep his tone even. “I’ll return the fees you’ve paid.” It was an absurd offer, but he was beyond thinking straight at the moment.

  “Absolutely not,” Jeff exclaimed. “You’ve done most of the work and the design is brilliant. I voted for the project to proceed, but the other members are quibbling about construction costs and other issues.”

  Tyler debated whether he should be blunt, but since his lack of diplomacy skills may have created some of the current problem, he decided to hold his tongue. Their relationship had always been cordial. Jeff had a clear understanding of what the consortium wanted, which wasn’t always the case.

  Now this?

  They wanted to step back and reassess, but what other reason could they have except being worried about the situation in Illinois? Tyler had been working on the consortium’s design for months.

  His jaw hardened. “Well, thanks for letting me know. Hope your weather isn’t too hot down there.”

  “It’s July in Dallas, which says it all. I grew up in Nova Scotia and don’t care for hot weather.”

  “I understand.” Tyler forced a laugh. “Take it easy.”

  He disconnected before he said something he’d regret. Letting calls go to voice mail or having his assistant deal with clients was a possibility, but it smacked of cowardice. At any rate, part of him wanted clients to tell him directly why they wanted to back out. He wasn’t in the mood to make it easy for them.

  Technically they couldn’t cancel their contracts—he wasn’t in breach—but that didn’t require them to go forward with building plans, just to pay for the work he’d already done.

  Grimly he dropped the phone in his pocket and watched the stream of customers making purchases.

  When his head began aching, Tyler instinctively put a finger to the
scar at his hairline. The doctor had assured him it would fade and be barely noticeable, while a nurse had even made a joke that it was too bad it wouldn’t be visible, since scars were almost fashionable. Neither of them had understood that he didn’t care what it looked like. It was just a scar.

  The first rush of customers had been served and Tyler got up, deciding he shouldn’t keep monopolizing a table in the limited space.

  He stepped to the counter when it was his turn. “A half dozen of the Italian meat sandwiches and a quart of the vegetable pasta salad,” he said, holding out his credit card.

  Aurelia smiled and bagged his order. “I gave you the employee discount because Rosemary works here,” she explained as he signed the credit slip. “Enjoy your lunch.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  The idea of getting his mother’s employee discount boggled Tyler’s mind. He was still concerned the demands of a daily job would overwhelm her sooner or later, but there was nothing he could do about it except try to head off any trouble he might see coming.

  * * *

  “THIS IS IT,” Kurt said, driving into a dreary industrial park on the far side of Stockton.

  “Not much to look at,” Nathan commented. After chatting for most of the drive, he’d fallen silent once they’d reached the city limits.

  “It isn’t impressive,” Kurt agreed, “but Sarah gets good service from them, and they’re normally able to deliver to Glimmer Creek on short notice.”

  The young man just shrugged.

  Meeting Nathan had reminded Kurt of how he’d felt coming home from war to a world that no longer seemed to fit him. War wasn’t glorious, the way some people believed. It was just death. For the most part, Kurt hadn’t worried about dying. He’d worried about doing his duty and not letting down his buddies who were fighting alongside him.

  He parked near the loading dock and got out.

  A man appeared from the interior. “Hello. Are you from Sarah’s Sweet Treats?”

  “Yes. Sarah is my daughter. I don’t remember meeting you the other times I’ve come here.”

  “I’m the owner, Grey Renault. I don’t usually handle pickups, but we’re shorthanded right now because three of my employees are National Guard reservists fighting the wildfire in Southern California.”

  Kurt grimaced. “Sorry to say it probably won’t be the last one this year. It was a dry winter.”

  “I know. Apologize again to Sarah that we couldn’t get to Glimmer Creek.”

  “No problem, I’m always happy to do something for my daughter.” He glanced toward his truck and saw Nathan getting out. “I’d better get everything loaded,” he said. “The coolers are in the back.”

  There wasn’t an easy way to keep Nathan from helping. Kurt just made sure he didn’t lift anything heavy.

  “As a rule, it’s warmer in the valley than it is in Glimmer Creek,” he commented on the drive back into the foothills.

  “Both seem cool to me after the Middle East.”

  Kurt flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I remember what it was like there.”

  Nathan didn’t say anything for a minute, then released a long sigh. “I went to the clinic yesterday for a checkup. Dr. Romano suggested image rehearsal therapy for nightmares. They mentioned it at the rehab center, but I didn’t pay much attention. Do you know anything about IRT?”

  “Some. It’s supposed to be good for nightmares. Dr. Romano is a licensed therapist, so he could work with you on it, along with other post-traumatic stress treatment.”

  “I don’t have PTSD.”

  Kurt snorted. “Son, you aren’t an iron man. There’s no shame in it. I had PTSD after my last tour and probably before then, except I wouldn’t acknowledge it.”

  “You?”

  “Sure. Simply couldn’t get what I’d seen out of my head. Didn’t have the nightmares, but during the day it was like a horror movie playing in my head, only this one was real. Restoring Poppy Gold’s greenhouse and learning how to grow things instead of fighting were what saved me. Also having my family’s support. I say try whatever might work.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Nathan muttered.

  Kurt didn’t push, knowing it wouldn’t help. Still, it had been good to hear Nathan mention a therapy program. Maybe it meant he was opening his mind to possibilities that could help.

  “Should I drop you off at the lot near your suite first?” Kurt asked as they neared Glimmer Creek.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Nathan shake his head. “I can’t be the only member of the Prentiss family who hasn’t met your daughter. She sounds wonderful.”

  Pleased, Kurt called Sarah’s cell phone.

  “Hey, Dad,” she answered.

  “I’m almost there.”

  “All right, see you in a few minutes.”

  Sarah met them at the rear of the building and smiled at Nathan when he got out. “Hi, you must be Rosemary’s son. Dad told me you’d offered to keep him company. I really appreciate it.”

  They shook hands, and it was plain that her smile and flattering remark had made an impact. Nathan’s shoulders straightened and his chin went up. “I benefited more than Kurt.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.”

  He made a diffident gesture. “Not at all. Never underestimate the value of good conversation.”

  “I still appreciate it.” With another quick smile, Sarah checked the insulated containers. Then all the goods were unloaded into the respective kitchens and refrigerators.

  Kurt realized he was prejudiced, but Sarah really was a fabulous cook and baker. And he was glad she’d achieved her dream of opening a bakery in Glimmer Creek. He just wished she didn’t have to work so hard.

  He also wished he could take a little of the credit for his only child turning out so well.

  * * *

  ROSEMARY WAS WAITING in the garden when Nathan and Kurt returned from the supply run.

  “Ready?” Kurt asked her as Nathan sank onto one of the chaises, looking tired.

  “Of course.”

  The greenhouses were located behind the maintenance area, and Rosemary’s eyes widened as they approached the one in front. It was huge, with an ornate dome in the center and rounded sides that made her think of a Victorian birdhouse.

  Going inside was like entering a different world. It was crowded with tropical plants and flowers, turning it into a tranquil jungle. The frosted glass ceiling was over twelve feet high on each side and at least two stories through the center.

  “I could live in here,” she declared. “It’s so peaceful.”

  “We’re proud of it.”

  “Mmm. Were you disappointed when Sarah didn’t become a horticulturist like you?” Rosemary asked.

  “Naw. And I’m not a horticulturist. I just grew into the gardening job after I retired from the army.”

  “I’m glad you don’t mind that Sarah chose something different. My husband had visions of starting a legal dynasty and couldn’t understand why Tyler and Nathan weren’t interested. Richard was a good man, he just couldn’t get past his wretched male pride. No offense,” she added quickly.

  “None taken.” Kurt bobbed his head. “Pride is universal, but I’ll admit my sex has a generous share. I was furious when my wife walked out. Wounded pride was part of it, and I made an ass of myself more than once.”

  Rosemary touched his hand. “Your heart was hurting, too. Maybe pride becomes a disguise when the pain is too great...like one of the carnival masks I saw in Venice on my honeymoon. They were beautiful, but I remember thinking that somebody could be weeping behind them and no one would know.”

  “Is that what your husband did—concealed his true self behind a mask?” Kurt asked.

  Rosemary bit her lip. “It’s complicated. Richard
was always proud, yet after...” She stopped, but there was no longer a reason to stay silent. Her husband was gone and it hurt not to talk about her daughter. “My sons don’t know, but they had a sister who died before they were born. Kittie was a toddler when she contracted spinal meningitis.”

  “Why don’t Nathan and Tyler know?”

  “My husband didn’t want to speak about Kittie. Ever. I even took out a safe deposit box for her pictures and christening dress, for fear of what he’d do with them. Each year on her birthday, I’ve gone and looked through them alone. I even paid for the box in cash so he wouldn’t find out.”

  “I’m sorry for what you went through,” Kurt said awkwardly.

  Rosemary was silent for a long moment. “I miss her every day and wonder what she’d be doing now—maybe she’d have a career, maybe she’d be married with children of her own. But I doubt Richard ever let himself think about Kittie. It simply hurt too much.”

  “Is that why he didn’t want your sons to know about her?”

  “Yes, and I worry how they’ll react if they learn the truth someday and it didn’t come from me.”

  “Are you going to tell them?”

  “I’m not sure.” She sniffed a fragile orchid hanging down from the ceiling. “I miss Richard desperately, but that doesn’t mean I have to keep doing what he wanted.”

  “Perhaps he felt it would be too difficult for your sons to deal with death as children. Then it got harder to tell them the truth when they were old enough to understand.”

  Rosemary smiled wryly. “That’s a generous thought, but I doubt it. As much as I loved Richard, he was self-centered. Maybe he needed to be that way to survive. You see, he grew up in the projects in Atlanta, and overcoming his background was desperately important to him. Even more after Kittie died. He was determined to be respected and make a huge amount of money. But he couldn’t understand that more money wouldn’t have saved our daughter. She had the best care...it just happened.”