Tangled Hearts

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Tangled Hearts Page 10

by Barbara McMahon


  Brianna sat alone in the cubicle at the county hospital’s emergency room, her legs dangling over the edge of the examination table, when she heard Jake’s voice. The scrape on her head had been cleaned, treated and covered with a bandage. Her wrist and ankle, both sprained, had been x-rayed. Her foot was in a walking cast and her arm was wrapped in Ace bandage.

  She'd answered all the questions the campus police had asked and now awaited someone from that department to take her home. Her department head had been notified and arranged to cover her classes if she wasn't able to be there when they started again.

  She counted the seconds from the time she first heard his voice until he found her. Eight. Pretty good. But then, she'd known he was good.

  “What the hell happened?”

  Jake burst into the cubicle like a bull in a raging temper. The waves of frustration and anger radiated from him like steam from a hot spring. His badge was clipped to his coat, his hair wind-tossed and his eyes narrowed and lethal. She shivered, glad she wasn’t the focal point of that dangerous look.

  “Someone wanted my briefcase, I guess,” she said. “Maybe that’s what they wanted all along. Maybe the break-ins will stop now.”

  “Are you all right?” His voice tempered. He leaned over her, his fingers gently brushing near the bandage on her forehead. Gently he pushed her hair behind her ear. Some of it was still matted with blood, though the nurse had tried her best to clean it when cleaning the scrape.

  “I will be fine.” She swallowed hard, blinking to keep tears away. She longed to reach out for comfort, to have him hold her and keep her safe. Taking a shaky breath, she tried to smile.

  “Hell, Brie, I said I’d keep you safe and look what happened.” The anger was leashed, his voice soft and gentle.

  “It’s hardly your fault,” she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder, the tactile feel of his coat anchoring her. Who was offering comfort to whom? she wondered.

  “I should have walked you to your office,” he muttered.

  “Oh, come on, Jake, be reasonable. Are you going to shadow me all the livelong day? You delivered me to my office building. No one could predict he’d try something like this. Every other incident has been against my property. He did bump me, but if I hadn’t lost my balance, I might not have fallen. It happened so fast, I couldn’t react. By the time I realized what was happening, I was already at the bottom of the steps.”

  He looked over her, touched her wrist lightly. “Anything broken?”

  She shook her head, then winced as it throbbed. “No, just a few scrapes and bruises. And a sprained wrist and ankle. I’ll be fine in a few weeks. Really.”

  “What was in your briefcase?” The switch from concerned friend to official cop was instant.

  “Nothing important. Lesson plans. God, I can’t believe I have to do some of them over again. This is getting ridiculous.”

  “There had to be more than lesson plans. Think.”

  The curtain to the cubicle slid open and a young resident entered. “Is this your ride home, Professor?” he asked, eyeing Jake suspiciously.

  Brianna looked at Jake, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

  “Yes, I’m taking her home. Any instructions?” Jake asked.

  “We went through them a few minutes ago. She should stay off that foot for the next couple of days. Then she can walk on it as she feels comfortable, providing she wears the support. We’ve already scheduled a follow-up appointment.”

  A nurse arrived pushing a wheelchair. Before anyone could move, Jake lifted Brianna and placed her in the chair. “I’ll take care of her and see she follows your orders,” he said gruffly.

  Who says? she wanted to ask, but prudently kept quiet. There would be time to deal with a bossy Jake after they left the hospital.

  The nurse assisted her into the car, and collapsed the wheel chair and let him put it in the back of the jeep.

  “It's on loan. Since you can't use crutches because of your wrist, and the doctor's adamant you keep off that foot, I arranged to borrow the wheel chair.”

  “I have two steps up into my house,” she commented, feeling a bit groggy and still disoriented.

  “We'll manage.” He drove her home, took her keys and opened her door, then returned to the car and lifted her out.

  “I can use the chair they gave me, hop up the two steps. Put me down. I weigh too much.”

  “You’re not heavy. I think you’ve lost weight over the past couple of years. You should eat more.”

  “I eat plenty. Put me down.” Her arm encircled his neck and even through the bulky clothing, she could feel the strength of his chest and arms. She longed to rest her head against his shoulder, longed to give up and let him take care of her, if only for today.

  “I'll put you down when we get inside.” He walked through the house and directly into the bedroom. Depositing her gently on the bed, he helped her remove her coat and remaining shoe. Drawing a knitted afghan over her, he stood and looked around.

  He’d seen the room before, of course, when checking out her place. But now he thought about it being her bedroom. A glance at the big bed and he instantly wondered when she had acquired it and why.

  A single woman living alone didn’t really need a queen-size bed. But that was the thing—had she always been alone?

  Not liking the trend of his thoughts, he looked at Brianna. She was watching him, a puzzled expression on her face.

  “I have to check in at the station, then go home and get a few things. I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he said. “I'll stop at your neighbors and see if she can sit with you. Do you need anything before I go?”

  “You’re coming back? What for? Martha will be glad to help me. She won’t mind.”

  “I’m staying here until you're mobile.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t argue.”

  “Jake, you can’t stay here. I don’t have another bedroom.” Her mind was scrambled. There had to be other reasons why he couldn’t stay.

  “I’ll sleep in the living room.”

  “That sofa is hardly big enough for someone your size.”

  “I’ll manage. Rest until I get back. I bet those pain pills the doctor gave you are kicking in about now.”

  She did feel like she was floating, but still had to make herself clear.

  “I don’t need you to come back. I have neighbors—”

  “I’ve already taken the time off. Might as well stay here as at the cabin. If we’d stayed there, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “I do have a job,” she said.

  “What was in your briefcase?” he asked again.

  “You keep asking that.”

  “I’m trying to find a reason that makes sense for all this.”

  The only reason he was back in her life was because of the recent events. Once he solved the case, would she ever see him again?

  “So far nothing has made any sense. I had my attendance book for all my fall classes. My calendar for the spring semester.” She paused in thought. “An outline of a journal article I’m doing. An invitation to a faculty tea honoring a new professor in the computer science department.” She closed her eyes, trying to remember everything that had been in her briefcase. She was so concerned about the lost lesson plans that she had difficulty remembering the other items. “Let me think…the mail I picked up last Thursday from my box but hadn’t read. You wouldn’t let me take work with me to the cabin, remember? And I didn’t get to it yesterday. And then my lesson plans—or the start of them anyway.”

  He frowned, frustrated. “Why would anyone want any of it? Is the article about some breakthrough?”

  “Not really, just a different adaptation on an already much-discussed theorem. It’ll get me some brownie points with the higher-ups, but it’s certainly not worth stealing. Besides, if anyone used it, we’d know instantly who the culprit was.”

  “The campus police said you didn’t recognize the assailant.”

  “N
o, he was tall, taller than I am anyway. He wore a ski mask, a dark blue jacket and dark jeans. It all happened so fast, I didn’t notice anything more.”

  “You’re a bright woman. You must have something someone wants—or wanted if he got what he was after today. Think about it while I’m gone.”

  “I don’t need you to stay here, Jake,” she said once again. She felt like a baby and didn't want him taking care of her.

  He leaned over and brushed back her hair, cupping her chin with his warm palm. “I need to stay. I need to make sure you're all right.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. The touch so light, Brianna wondered if she imagined it.

  She lay back against the pillows and tried to relax. She was keyed up from both the attack and the thought of Jake staying with her for a day or so. Her mind, however, was growing fuzzy as the pain meds took hold.

  She'd enjoyed having one place in life where she didn't have memories of Jake. Now that would all change if he moved in, took over and imprinted himself on every inch of her home.

  Sighing in defeat, she closed her eyes. They were linked. Inexorably linked. She couldn’t fight fate. She could only go along for the ride, however long it lasted this time.

  Brianna dozed off and on all day, aware of Martha fussing over her a bit. That Jake had returned. Conscious that someone else was moving around her place but too lethargic to do anything she rolled over and drifted back to sleep.

  When she awoke in the late afternoon, she was wide-awake and hungry. Gingerly she sat up, shifting to the edge of the bed until her feet reached the floor. Her ankle throbbed. She considered the distance to the bathroom and hesitated.

  Jake appeared in the doorway. “Need help?” he asked, lounging casually against the jamb.

  She glanced up, struck again by how tough and dangerous he looked leaning there watching her. In the dim light of the room, he was cloaked in shadows.

  “I guess I do. My ankle hurts and I don’t think I'm ready to walk on it.”

  He straightened and walked toward her. “Which is what the doctor said. No walking on it for a couple of days.” Without any apparent effort, he scooped her up and headed to the bathroom. He deposited her inside and stepped out. “Call when you’re finished,” he said just before the door clicked shut.

  He had the wheel chair at the door when she was ready to leave the bathroom. Hopping jarred her head and ankle too much to try that.

  Jake had prepared dinner. He mentioned it was ready as he pushed her into the living room and through to the small dining alcove. She'd taken time while in the bathroom to brush her hair and wash what she could of her face with her one good hand.

  Soft music played from her stereo, the curtains had been drawn against the growing twilight and the lamps gave a warm glow to the room. She wished again she had a fireplace. The evenings they’d spent before his at the cabin had been wonderful.

  Most of the time she spent with Jake was wonderful.

  “Dinner.”

  Her small dining table was big enough for two. Which suited her. She rarely had anyone over for a meal. She'd rather meet friends at a restaurant where there was room for all.

  “This is delicious,” Brianna said a few moments later when she tasted his chicken casserole.

  “Thanks. It’s easy.”

  “Somehow I didn’t picture you cooking,” she murmured. Plenty of men cooked. Her brothers were excellent cooks, though neither particularly liked to. But she hadn't pictured Jake cooking.

  “I have to eat. Do you think I eat out every meal?” he replied, sitting opposite her with his own plate.

  She shrugged. “Or ate donuts,” she teased.

  They’d eaten out a lot when dating. She'd cooked for him at her apartment a couple of times. And, of course, she’d cooked the meals at the cabin.

  “Where did you learn to cook?” she asked.

  “At home. When I was a kid, my uncle didn’t get home until late, so I usually started dinner. Cooked the entire meal most nights.”

  “You lived with your uncle, I remember,” She’d known he was an only child. When she had asked him about his parents once long ago, he’d merely mentioned they were dead. Then quickly changed the subject.

  “From the time I was six until I went to college.”

  “Just the two of you?” she asked.

  “Yes. He never married.”

  She looked at him, wondering about a lot of things. He never talked about his past. It hadn’t seemed that important two years ago. They'd been caught up in the present and they’d only dated a few months.

  Only long enough for her to fall in love.

  What had his childhood been like? He hadn't told her about it. She'd sure talked enough about growing up on the ranch.

  “Tell me about your uncle,” she said, determined to change that.

  He looked at her and shrugged. “What’s to tell? He was a cop. We shared an apartment. I learned to cook.”

  “Do you see much of him now?”

  He shook his head. “He died when I was in college.”

  “Longevity does not seem to run in your family,” she commented.

  He smiled wryly. “They were all accidents. My folks were killed in an airplane crash. My uncle was a cop, but he didn’t die on duty. He was killed when he fell from a tall ladder, trying to help a friend put up storm windows. Hit his head on the curb and died on the spot.”

  “Was he the reason you became a cop?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you don’t have any family living?”

  He shook his head once, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to guess what she was leading up to.

  “I lost my parents, but I always had Jase and Josh. Now I have Shannon, too. I wished we lived closer. I always wanted a sister when I was growing up.”

  “Jase’s wife?” he clarified.

  She nodded, smiling and looking over into the living room where she had their photograph on a shelf.

  “That’s their wedding picture, on the second shelf. Isn’t she cute? You’d think Jase invented love the way he’s so crazy about her,” she said wistfully.

  She envied her older brother the love he’d found. He and his wife didn’t mind everyone in the world knowing how much they adored each other. She wished she had the same kind of love.

  “So your grand love affair didn’t pan out,” he said softly.

  She blinked, hurt he’d mock her. He didn’t need to rub her nose in the fact he didn’t love her. And he needn’t be cruel about it, either. With dignity, she raised her chin.

  “I guess not. I’m not ashamed of feeling the way I do.”

  “I’m sorry, Brie.”

  She knew he meant it. He wasn’t a cruel man, merely one who didn’t love her.

  She nodded, toying with the last bit on her plate. Restlessly, she shoved it aside.

  “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

  “Coffee?” Jake rose and gathered the plates, heading for the kitchen.

  “Yes. There’s some brandy over the refrigerator. I want some of that, too.”

  A timeless remedy for aches and pains of all kinds.

  She struggled to maneuver the wheel chair with one hand, going in a semicircle.

  “Here,” he said, coming up behind her and deftly propelling her into the living room next to the sofa. Two swift moves and she was sitting on the sofa with a jar that set her head to pounding.

  A minute later, Jake brought their mugs filled with fragrant coffee and the hint of brandy. Handing her one, he sat beside her on the sofa, resting his arm across the back, his fingers touching her hair.

  “Not too much liquor, you still have medication in your system,” he said when she sipped the hot beverage.

  “Still tastes good,” she said, taking a deep breath of the aroma.

  “If I could change things for you, I would,” he said in a low voice, dropping his hand to her shoulder, pulling her closer until she lay snuggled against his side.

  “Wish
ing it won’t make it so,” she replied sadly.

  “No, you can’t make people love you no matter how much you might want them to.” He’d learned that himself the hard way.

  Brianna took a gulp of hot coffee. It burned all the way down, which jolted her out of the maudlin mood she was fast sinking into.

  “So, did anything turn up today while I slept?” she asked, determined to keep the regrets at bay, at least until she was alone in her room.

  “Nothing about the perpetrator. No one saw him but you. However, your briefcase turned up in a trash can behind the geology building. Empty.”

  “At least that wasn’t lost. It was a gift to me from my brothers when I got my Ph.D. I’ll be glad to have it back.”

  “We’ve pretty much eliminated the Air Force angle. Most of the people we’ve talked to didn’t even know you worked for them.”

  “Honestly, are you telling everyone I know?” she asked. “I think I'm supposed to be circumspect about the job.”

  “We’re questioning people who might have some leads for us.”

  “The work at the Air Force is a supposed secret. I didn’t tell people because I didn't want anyone pestering me to reveal anything I shouldn't.”

  “Most of the people we’ve interviewed were impressed. They aren’t going to try to pick your brain.”

  “So you don't think it's related to that work. But how can it be connected to the college?”

  “Beats me, unless you have some top-secret formula for fattening cattle that some ranching syndicate's trying to get.”

  She chuckled. “No. I leave that to Josh and Jase. I go home to help out sometimes, but I’m not passionately in love with ranching like those two. Ever been on a cattle ranch?”

  “Nope. I like thinking that beef comes in neat little packages in the supermarket, rather than covered in hide and mooing.”

  “A realist, I see.”

  Even if he knew nothing about cattle and horses, she’d bet he’d fit right in. There was something about men like him and her brothers and the ranch hands on Rafter C that spoke of confidence and assurance. They knew who they were, what they were capable of. Even the arrogance was similar. She smiled, wondering how he'd like meeting one or both of her brothers.

 

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