A Need to Protect

by Diane Benefiel

  “You have a real eye for what goes together.” She peered through the tinted glass into a cabinet. “There’s nothing in there.”

  “Yeah, like I said, I haven’t gotten around to the little details. Like dishes. I can get by with just a few pieces but I’m hard-pressed when I have company.”

  She gave him a genuine smile for the first time. It lit her face and warmed her gray eyes to smoke. Brad could feel himself taking a fall.

  She seemed wary of his change in expression, straightening abruptly. “I should go; I have a lot of work to do.” She turned to the sink and rinsed her now empty mug.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” she added. “You probably saved my life.”

  “Anytime.” He opened a door at the far end of the kitchen. “We can go out this way. I’ll walk you back.”

  “No, I can find my way, Chief.” Emma moved toward him and he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. In the narrow doorway, she paused, expression wary.

  “My name is not ‘Chief’, it’s Brad.”

  “Right.”

  “Emmaline.” His voice held warning.

  “Okay, okay. Brad. And nobody ever calls me Emmaline. I prefer Emma.”

  “I like Emmaline.”

  She rolled her eyes, and he caught her scent, something citrusy, when she moved past him. He watched her until she disappeared along the curve of the trail.

  ***

  Emma planned to attack one cabin at a time. Clean it from top to bottom, make a list of any repairs to be done, and then another list of what was needed to stock it for rental. She was pounding nails into a loose board in the porch of Black Bear when she heard a car drive up. Stepping off the porch, she saw a small red compact parking next to her Toyota. Too small to be the vehicle from last night. Emma left the cabin to see who her visitor was this time.

  As she approached, a fine-boned, dark-haired woman stepped out of the car. She was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt in the warm afternoon. The passenger door opened and a little boy of about five or six with the same dark hair climbed out. The woman took him by the hand to walk toward the office.

  “May I help you?” Emma called.

  The woman stopped, said something to the boy, and then turned to Emma. She stood stiffly with her shoulders squared.

  “Ms. Kincaid?” At Emma’s nod she continued. “My name is Dory Calderon, and this is my son Adrian.”

  Emma shook the woman’s hand. The child had a quiet, wary look about him that made her wonder. “What can I do for you, Ms. Calderon?”

  “Please, call me Dory.” The woman was younger than Emma, probably in her early to mid-twenties, and looked tightly controlled, as if holding herself together through sheer willpower. “I would like to know if you have a job available. Maddy at the café suggested I ask you. I’m a hard worker.” She hesitated. “The only thing is I need to have Adrian with me when he’s not in school. He won’t be any trouble.” She looked at Emma with unfathomable dark eyes.

  Emma had been around fear and desperation enough to recognize it when she saw it. She eyed the woman thoughtfully. “Honestly, I hadn’t considered hiring anyone just yet. I’m on a pretty lean budget.”

  “But you’ll need help to get the cabins ready to rent for the summer, right? And I could work for just room and board until you start having income. Adrian and I could live in one of the cabins.”

  “You’ve thought this through.” Emma felt torn. She remembered those anxious times with her mother, desperately miserable, waiting late at night to see if the clerk at some grimy motel would rent them a room. She sighed, drawn by this woman’s quiet dignity. “First, I need to know what kind of trouble you’re in.”

  The woman looked away, blinking rapidly. But when after a deep breath she turned back to Emma, her eyes were clear and direct. “I am getting myself out of trouble, Ms. Kincaid.”

  The little boy scuffed a small sneaker in the pine needles. Emma had an impression his ears were attuned to every word.

  “Call me Emma, please.” She cocked her head, mind working on the possibilities. With the extra help she just might get the cabins ready to rent by the beginning of the summer season. If she and Dory could get by with what she had in the bank until money started coming in, it could work. She would make it work. “Okay, Dory. We’ll give it a two-week trial period and then we’ll both reevaluate and see if the arrangement is working for both of us.”

  She looked down at the little boy, hand tightly gripping his mother’s. “Adrian, do you see those pinecones over there?” Emma pointed to an open area between some trees, then to a bucket on the porch. “Could you gather some in that bucket for me? I think we’ll be able to make nice decorations out of them.”

  He gave her a shy smile, then raced to get the bucket. Once he was out of earshot, Emma looked at his mother. “Dory, could someone come after you? Try to hurt you?” At the woman’s hesitation, Emma assured her. “I’m not asking to be nosy and it won’t keep me from hiring you, but I need to know so we can take precautions and be safe. So we can keep Adrian safe.”

  Emma could see the woman stand straighter, her jaw firm. “I should have told you right off, so you would know before you offered me a job. Because, yes, Adrian’s father, my husband, could come after us. Brad, the police chief? He warned Rodrigo to stay away and had me get a restraining order, but I know he could still come after me or try to get Adrian.” The look she aimed at Emma held cold anger.

  “He started hitting me about a year ago, but I always thought it would get better. Then one night last week he came home drunk and Adrian tried to protect me. And he hit him. Rodrigo hit my baby.” Despite her efforts at control, Dory’s voice trembled.

  Emma remembered a time years before when she had been the child, just thirteen years old with her mother standing in the door of their motel room crying to a police officer that her boyfriend hadn’t meant to hit Emma. Trudy had pleaded with the officer not to take her little girl. Emma shook her head. There was no way she could turn this woman and her child away. “Why don’t we go check out Black Bear cabin and see what it needs so you and Adrian can move in.”

  Dory gave Emma a relieved smile. “Thank you, I’d like that.”

  Once sheets for the Black Bear had been found, and the cabin scrubbed ruthlessly from top to bottom, both Emma and Dory agreed it was ready for them to move in. The little boy was thrilled with his new home and raced up and down the steps with pinecones to line the porch rail.

  Watching him stand a pinecone on its wide end, Emma grinned when Adrian looked shyly up at her. His smile showed a gap where two bottom teeth were missing.

  “I’m going to be a forest ranger when I grow up. My mom’s helping me learn the names of the trees from a book we got from the library so I’ll be ready.”

  Pleased he was past his reserve and talking to her, she responded, “A forest ranger is pretty cool. You would always be able to live in a beautiful place.”

  Dory trudged up to the cabin with the last of the things from her car. She’d gone back to town to get her possessions from the duplex where she’d lived. For the past week she and Adrian had been living with her parents, scared to go to the house she’d shared with Rodrigo.

  By seven o’clock that evening, Emma, Dory, and Adrian sat in the little kitchen of Black Bear cabin eating-grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup by the light of the camp lantern. The adults talked over ideas for a website and ways to promote the resort. Strange for her normally reserved self, Emma already felt she was making a place for herself in the community of Hangman’s Loss. Maddy at the bakery had sent both Bert Morales and Dory her way. She hoped she and Dory could become friends. And she would stop in at the bakery to give Maddy her thanks. The loneliness that had always been an integral part of her eased slightly.

  At eight o’clock on the dot Monday morning, Emma was at the power company filling out paperwork and writing a check for the deposit on electric service. Her next stop established a time for the landline
to be connected. Once that was accomplished, she found where city hall was located and drove there to get a business license. Built on the edge of town, city hall incorporated the Western theme with its heavy wooden beams and split-rail fence that surrounded a landscape design that incorporated native plants.

  Managing not to choke on the cost of the license, she wrote the check and felt pretty pleased with her morning accomplishments as she walked toward the tall glass doors that led outside. She pulled up short when she heard a deep voice call to her. Brad crossed the lobby to join her, and when he opened the door she followed him outside into the sunshine.

  Emma stopped on the stamped concrete walkway, brows raised in question when he gave her an assessing look. Not wearing a uniform, the belt holding his gun and badge were the only evidence he was in law enforcement. Unless, Emma thought, you took in his demeanor. He had that air of authority most cops wore. She shifted uneasily under his scrutiny. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “There are many answers to that question but right now I’d have to say it’s those big eyes of yours. They’ve hooked me.”

  He looked unconcerned when she frowned at him.

  “Look, I appreciated the coffee yesterday, but that doesn’t mean we’re buddies.” Emma fought to keep emotion out of her voice. “It’s not personal but I don’t like cops. Now go away before you ruin my beautiful morning.”

  He glanced around. “You’re right about one thing at least, it is a beautiful morning. And there’s just no way I want to be buddies with you.”

  He brought back his gaze to focus on her and she knew his apparent affability was just a pretense, that his innate intensity was just tamped down, tethered close beneath the surface.

  “But the other thing,” he continued, “that you don’t like cops? You need to get beyond that. It would probably help if you told me a little about yourself, about your past, so I know what I’m up against.”

  “You’re not up against anything. My past has nothing to do with you.” Emma hoped he didn’t notice the waver in her voice. “You’re the police chief. I’m a law-abiding citizen. We should have about zero need to run into each other.”

  He laughed, and she felt her heart falter. “Emmaline, one detail you should know about me is I simply can’t resist a puzzle. I like puzzles. I like looking at them from all angles until I figure them out. And right now you’re a puzzle in a very attractive package. We’ll be running into each other regularly. You can count on it.”

  Torn between a simmering attraction and an ingrained fear of law enforcement, she gave a frustrated sigh. “Just leave me alone.”

  When she would have stalked off, he reached for her hand. “Wait a second, sweetheart. We need to talk.”

  She stopped. His calloused fingers held hers loosely as he lazily rubbed his thumb across her palm. Emma thought his gentle stroke must have a hypnotizing effect because she thought she could stand there all day with him doing exactly that.

  He must have felt her tension. “Relax,” he told her before nodding to a man who called, “Hey, Chief” on his way into the building. The guy hardly lifted a brow at the police chief holding a woman’s hand in front of city hall but Emma could feel her cheeks flush.

  Shaking her head in confusion, she muttered, “This isn’t right.”

  His expression turned inscrutable. “Look beyond the job, Emmaline. Look at me.”

  Emma saw a flicker of vulnerability she would never have associated with him and wondered if she was guilty of seeing just the badge, not the man behind it.

  She was getting the signals Brad found her attractive and instead of running crazily in the opposite direction, she felt a heightened awareness, an almost electric connection between them. “You confuse me.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve thrown me for a loop, too.”

  Their gazes locked and Emma wondered if this was what it was like touching a live wire and being unable to let go.

  “What on earth are you doing to this child, Bradley? She’s not under arrest, is she?” A woman’s voice, sharp with annoyance, spoke from behind him.

  Ripping her gaze from Brad’s, Emma looked past his shoulder into frosty-blue eyes. The woman, sleek and sophisticated, was dressed in a stylish, trim professional suit with white lace peeking provocatively from her cleavage. Her auburn hair was styled in a complicated twist with curling tendrils that framed a striking face. Emma wished suddenly she’d done more than pull on jeans and a jacket.

  Brad turned to face the woman. “No, Marla, I’m not arresting her. We’re having a conversation.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” The woman stepped closer to Brad, attention focused on him. Emma caught a whiff of expensive perfume.

  She heard Brad stifle an impatient sigh but he let go of Emma’s hand. “Fine,” he said. “Marla Banks, this is Emmaline Kincaid. She’s Walt Kincaid’s granddaughter.” There were undercurrents between the two that made Emma wonder at their background. “Emma, this is Marla Banks; she works in city hall.”

  Marla gave what Emma thought was a practiced, professional smile. “Oh, Brad. You can tell her I’m the mayor.” She shifted her gaze from Brad to focus on Emma. “We should talk sometime, Ms. Kincaid. Our chief here didn’t mention that I’m also a real-estate broker. Your grandfather didn’t see the full potential of his property with those little cabins. I’m sure we can find you a buyer so you can get back to your life.”

  Telling herself that condescension only made Marla look small and insecure, Emma forced her voice to remain calm. “I don’t plan to go back to LA. I’m going to operate the business my grandfather started and stay in Hangman’s Loss.”

  The mayor raised well-groomed eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t think you understand how tough it is to make it in this economy. And not everyone is cut out to live in the mountains.” Marla’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She dipped a hand into her stylish purse and brought out a small case. She pulled out a business card to hand to Emma. “Here’s my card. Feel free to contact me for any advice or help.”

  She turned her attention to Brad. “I’ll expect you at the city council meeting Thursday night, Bradley.”

  “I haven’t missed one yet, Marla.”

  The mayor clipped toward city hall while Emma considered the man standing in front of her. She wondered if Marla could feel the edginess radiating from him. “I’ve got some more errands to take care of, so good-bye.”

  “Just wait a minute. I need to talk to you.”

  Emma looked at him skeptically.

  “This time it’s not personal.”

  “What do you mean? There’s nothing personal between us.” Emma felt like she was losing ground where Chief Gallagher was concerned. Whenever she staked a claim of distance or disinterest between them she felt the earth shift and slide beneath her.

  At her baffled look, he said, “Let’s take a walk.” He led the way down a gravel path that led around the parking lot. A sturdy bridge spanned a wide creek Emma guessed must come from the lake. He stopped in the middle of the bridge. “This is as good a spot as any.”

  The beauty of the place wasn’t lost on Emma. Calmer, she leaned over the rail to peer into the fast-moving stream. Fish darted in the current while a blue jay called from tree branches high over the water. Light danced among dark shadows where the sun filtered through fluttering leaves.

  She glanced up when Brad rested his elbows against the rail next to her. “You hired Dory Calderon.” At her scowl he raised a hand. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have but you need to know she comes with issues.”

  Emma responded with some heat. “Dory told me her husband beat her. That he hit Adrian. I know he may come after her. That’s all the more reason to give her a job and a place to stay.”

  “We’re on the same side, sweetheart. I know how ugly it got, so never doubt that I want them both safe.” She could feel his intensity like something tangible. “The neighbors called me out during the last fig
ht. Rodrigo lost it.” He went on grimly. “I’d been trying to get her to press charges for a while but she wouldn’t do it. Not until he hit the boy.”

  “At least she did then. Did you arrest him?” Emma hurt for little Adrian. She remembered very well being powerless, not being able to do anything but watch while the big, hulking Sonny wailed on her mother with huge fists.

  “Yeah, but he made bail. Dory took out a restraining order and I convinced Rodrigo to go visit his brother in Sacramento.”

  Emma felt Brad’s attention on her as she gazed into the creek.

  “He’ll be back, Emmaline. He’ll come looking for Dory and Adrian. He’ll try to sweet talk her into dropping the charges. I’ll be on the lookout for him. My officers know about the restraining order and that she and the boy are with you at the cabins. But I want you to be aware, to know who’s coming around your place.

  “Emmaline.” He paused until she raised her eyes to his. “If anything, and I mean anything, makes you nervous, you call me.”

  Emma stared resolutely into the water but nodded her agreement.

  She heard him blow out a breath. “Sweetheart, when Walt died he had some things to get off his chest. He told me a bit about his daughter. He felt she had made her choices and had to live by the consequences. His biggest regret was he couldn’t help you.” He laid a hand on her shoulder and Emma looked up. “You’re not a helpless child anymore, and I won’t let Rodrigo hurt you or Dory.”

  “Cops say that but sometimes they can’t do anything about it. Sometimes cops hurt people, too.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “That’s hard.” She turned and walked back across the bridge.

  Chapter Four

  Emma spent the evening sifting through papers and odds and ends in her grandfather’s desk. Memories of him sitting here, his old chair making creaky noises whenever he moved, made her smile. He’d been so pleased she’d come to spend the summer with him. Sitting in his chair, she leafed through records, hoping to find if he had regulars she could notify that the cabins would be open for the summer season. A letter from Great Mountain Development caught her attention. The company had presented an offer to purchase the resort property for what Emma thought was low-ball price. There were also stacks of unopened letters, several from Great Mountain and some from other organizations. It looked like business details had been neglected when her grandfather had gotten sick. Emma set the letters aside to read later.