Her Holiday Hero

Her Holiday Hero Page 2

by Margaret Daley

  “But maybe it would put a stop to it. Make a difference for my son.” Her forehead creased, she glanced back at the house. “I want to thank you for what you did for Josh. Would you like some tea or lemonade?”

  He hesitated. He needed to say no, but he couldn’t, not after glimpsing the lost look in the lady’s eyes.

  “Please. I make freshly squeezed lemonade.” She started toward her house. “We can enjoy it outside on the porch.”

  Part of him wanted to follow her, to help her—the old Jake—but that guy was gone, left in the mountains where some of his men had died.

  She slowed and glanced back, anxiety shadowing her eyes. “I’m at a loss about what to do. Tell me what happened to you when you were bullied. That is, if you don’t mind. It may help me figure out what to do about Josh.”

  It was just her porch. He wouldn’t be confined. He could escape easily.

  He took a step toward her, then another, but with each pace closer to the house, his legs became heavier. By the time he mounted the stairs, he could barely lift them. He paused several feet from the front door and glanced at the white wicker furniture, a swing hanging from the ceiling at the far end. Thoughts of his mother’s parents’ farmhouse where he’d spent time every summer came to mind. For a moment peace descended. He tried to hold on to that feeling, but it evaporated in seconds at the sound of an engine revving and then a car speeding down the street.

  The sudden loudness of the noise made him start to duck behind a wicker chair a couple of feet away. He stopped himself, but not before anger and frustration swamped him. His heartbeat revved like the vehicle, and the shakes accosted him. He clasped his hands on the knob of his cane and pressed it down into the wooden slat of the porch.

  What was he thinking? He should never have accepted her invitation.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. I have stuff to do at home.” He pivoted so fast he nearly lost his balance and had to bring his cane down quickly to prevent it.

  “Thank you for your help today with my son,” Emma quickly got out.

  Sweat popped out on his forehead and ran down his face, into his eyes. He concentrated on the stinging sensation to take his mind off everything rushing toward him. As fast as his injured leg would let him, he hurried toward his house and the familiar surroundings where he knew what to expect. The trembling in his hands had spread throughout his body by the time he arrived in his yard.

  Once inside his home, he fell back against the door and closed his eyes, trying to slow his stampeding heartbeat. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he gulped air. He slid down the length of the door and sat on the tiled foyer floor, blocking the deep ache that emanated from his recent injury.

  Rage at himself, at his situation swamped him, and he slammed his fist into his palm. Pain shot up his arm. He didn’t care. It wasn’t anything compared to how he hated what was happening to him.

  What are You doing, God? I want a normal life. Not be a slave to these panic attacks. Why aren’t You answering my prayers?

  Chapter Two

  From the front porch, Emma watched Jake Tanner limp down the sidewalk toward the corner at Park Avenue. Mr. Tanner had saved her son from getting hurt worse than he already was. Had the situation with Josh brought back bad memories of the man’s childhood? Was that why he’d left so quickly? Why there was a poignant look in his dark brown eyes? She guessed she shouldn’t have asked him about what happened to him when he was bullied. That couldn’t be easy for anyone to remember.

  Mr. Tanner rounded the corner and disappeared from her view. From what she’d seen of the man, it certainly appeared he could take care of himself, even with his injured leg. She was five feet ten inches, and he had to be a good half a foot taller. He might be limping but clearly that didn’t stop him from doing some kind of physical exercise. Dressed in tight jeans and a black T-shirt, he looked well built with a hard, muscular body—a little leaner than he was probably accustomed to.

  “Jake Tanner” rolled off her tongue as if she’d said it before. Why did it sound familiar to her? Where had she heard his name? Had she run into him somewhere in town? She wasn’t from Cimarron City but had lived here for years. But then he would be a hard man to forget with his striking good looks.

  Had he hurt himself recently? Was the injury to his left leg permanent? Questions began to flood her mind until she shook her head.

  No. He made it clear he’d helped Josh, but that was all. Besides, she had her hands full with a child who was angry all the time. And there were her two jobs—one as a veterinary assistant at Harris Animal Hospital and the other as a trainer for service dogs with the Caring Canines Foundation with Abbey Winters, her best friend. Abbey had founded the organization that placed service and therapy dogs with people who needed them. Emma didn’t want any more complications in her life, and she certainly wasn’t interested in dating, even though it had been three years since her husband died, leaving her widowed at twenty-nine with a son.

  Who is my top priority—Josh.

  Emma threw one last glance at the corner of Sooner and Park, then headed inside and toward Josh’s bedroom. They needed to have a conversation about what had happened today whether her son wanted to talk or not. Her child would not be used as a punching bag. The very thought tightened her chest and made breathing difficult.

  She halted outside his closed door, drew air into her lungs until her nerves settled and then knocked. She half expected Josh to ignore her, but thirty seconds later, he swung open the door. A scowl puckered his face, and he clenched his jaw so tightly, a muscle in his cheek twitched, underscoring his anger. He left her standing in the entrance, trudged to his bed and flung himself on his back onto his navy blue coverlet.

  “I’m not telling you who those guys are.”

  “Why not?” She moved into his room and sat at the end of the bed, facing him.

  “You’ll say something to them or their parents.”

  “Are you being bothered at school? Is that why you haven’t wanted to go these past six weeks since school started?”

  He clamped his lips together until his mouth was a thin, tight line.

  “I’m going to talk to your teacher whether you say anything or not. I can’t sit by and let someone, or in this case, several boys bully you.”

  “Don’t, Mom. I’ll take care of this. It’s my problem.”

  The sheen in Josh’s eyes, the plea in his voice tore at her composure. She wanted to pull him into her arms and never let go—to keep him safe with her. Sam, I need you. This is what a dad handles with a son. What do I do?

  She’d never felt so alone as at this moment, staring at Josh fighting the tears welling in his eyes. “I know Mrs. Alexander would want to know. Every child should be safe at school. This is not negotiable. I can’t force you to tell me, but I need to know who is doing this to you.”

  “I’m not a snitch. That’s what they’ll call me. I’ll never live it down.”

  “So what’s your plan? Let them keep beating you up? What if Mr. Tanner hadn’t seen them and stopped them? What do you think would have happened?”

  Josh shrugged, turned away from her and lay on his bed.

  Emma remembered Jake Tanner’s words about how talking with the bullies’ parents sometimes only made the situation worse. Then what should she do? What could Josh do? “At least make sure you have friends around you. Don’t go anywhere alone. It’s obvious now you can’t go to Craig’s house through the park. I’ll have to drive you to and from your friends’ houses. I’ll pick you up from school and take you in the morning. I’ll talk to Dr. Harris and figure out a way to do that with my work schedule. If I can’t, I’ll see if Abbey will. She takes Madi to and from school.” As she listed what she would do, she realized all those precautions weren’t really a solution.

  Then in the meantime, she’d talk to the school about the bullying. She had to do something to end this. The thought of her son hurting, physically and emotionally, stiffened her resolve to help him somehow whether he liked it or not. She hated that bullies were almost holding her son hostage.

/>   “Don’t say anything to Mrs. Alexander, Mom.”

  Emma rose and hovered over Josh. “I have to. It’s my job as your parent. I can’t ignore what happened.”

  He glared at her. “I hate you. You’re going to make my life miserable.”

  The words hurt, but she understood where they came from—fear and anger at his situation. She knew those feelings well, having experienced them after Sam passed away. “I love you, Josh, and your life right now with these bullies isn’t what you want or deserve.”

  Her son buried his head under his pillow.

  “I need to check your cuts and clean them.”

  “Go away.”

  “I’m not leaving. You aren’t alone.”

  He tossed the pillow toward the end of the bed. “I wish Mr. Tanner hadn’t interfered. Then you wouldn’t be making such a big deal out of this.”

  “Thankfully he did, and believe me, I would have made a big deal out of it when I saw you in this condition whether he’d stepped in or not. I’ll be right back with the first-aid kit.”

  Josh grumbled something she couldn’t hear.

  As she gathered up what she needed, a picture of Jake Tanner flashed into her mind. Short, dark hair— military style like her brother’s… Emma snapped her fingers. That was it. Ben had mentioned a Jake Tanner on several occasions because he was the army captain Ben had served under in his Special Forces Unit. Could this be the same man?

  After she patched up an uncooperative Josh, she left him in his bedroom to pout. When she really thought about Josh’s angry behavior and keeping to himself, she realized it had begun during the summer. She’d hoped his mood would improve when school started and he saw his friends more. But it hadn’t. She’d tried talking to him. He’d been closemouthed and dismissive of her concerns. Why hadn’t she seen it earlier?

  She made her way to the kitchen to start lunch but first decided to call her brother. She knew it would nag her not to know whether the Jake Tanner she’d met was Ben’s company’s commanding officer. She remembered Ben’s commenting they both had lived in Oklahoma so it was possible.

  She called his cell phone number. “Hi, bro. Do you have a moment to appease my curiosity?” Emma leaned against the kitchen counter, staring out the window over the sink at the leaves beginning to change colors.

  “For you, always. What’s going on?”

  “Josh was in the park and some boys jumped him and beat him up. Apparently, this wasn’t the first time they’d approached him.”

  “How’s Josh?”

  “Some cuts and bruises but I think his self-confidence is more damaged than anything.”

  “I wish I didn’t live so far away. I could help him. With my new job I’m working weekends, so that doesn’t leave a lot of time to even drive to Cimarron City when Josh isn’t in school.”

  She didn’t want Ben to feel this was his problem. He lived in Tulsa and was just getting his life back. “I’m going to talk to the school on Monday about it. But that’s not what I wanted to speak with you about. A man named Jake Tanner broke up the fight and brought Josh home. He lives across the street from where it happened on Park Avenue. Could he be your captain? You said something about his living around here once. Am I crazy to even think it could be the same guy?” And why in the world did it make a difference, except that it would bug her until she found out?

  “So that’s where he is. Some of my buddies from the old company who made it back were wondering where he went when he was let out of the army hospital a few months ago. He has an email address but hasn’t said where he is when he’s corresponded with any of the guys. I’ve been worried. I should have thought about Cimarron City. He lived there for a while when his father was stationed at the army base nearby. And he used to visit his grandmother there in the summer. I think his grandmother died last year, but I thought since his father is stationed in Florida, that might be where he went.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I was stateside when my old company was ambushed and about a quarter of the men were killed, many others injured. Captain Tanner was one of them. A bullet in his left leg. Tore it up. I hear he almost lost it.”

  She recalled how emotionally messed up Ben had been last year when he was first released from the military hospital and honorably discharged from the army. He didn’t have a job then—couldn’t hold one down—and lived with their parents in Tulsa.

  “How did he seem to you?”

  “He couldn’t get away fast enough. I invited him to share a drink for rescuing Josh, and he backed away as if I was contagious.”

  “What did you say to him?” Half amusement, half concern came over the line from her brother.

  “Nothing. He wasn’t mad at me. He was—” she searched her mind for a word to describe the earlier encounter “—vulnerable. Something was wrong. Maybe his leg was hurting or something like that. I did see his hands shaking. He tried to hide it, and he was breathing hard, sweating. That didn’t start really until he’d been talking to me for a while. Do you think it could be…” She wasn’t a doctor and had no business diagnosing a person.

  “Post traumatic stress disorder?”

  Ben had recovered from his physical injuries within months of returning stateside, but what had lingered and brought her brother to his knees was PTSD. Last year she’d trained her first service dog to help her brother deal with the effects of the disorder. “How’s Butch doing?”

  “He’s great. You don’t know how much he changed my life for the better.”

  Yes, she did. She saw her brother go from almost retreating totally from life to now holding down a job and functioning normally. He still lived with their parents, but she’d heard from her mom he was looking for his own apartment. “Are you having any problems?”

  “Yes, occasionally, but Butch is right there for me. I can’t thank you enough for him. Do you think you could pay Captain Tanner a visit? See how he is? I know what happened to him was bad, and as tough as he was, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s dealing with PTSD. It can take out the strongest people.”

  Like Ben. He’d been a sergeant with an Army Special Forces Unit with lethal skills she couldn’t even imagine. Yet none of that mattered in the end.

  “Please, sis. I owe Captain Tanner my life. He pulled me out of the firefight that took me down. If he hadn’t, I would have died.”

  “What if it isn’t your Captain Tanner?”

  “Was the person six and a half feet, dark brown hair, built like a tank, solid, with dark eyes—almost black?”

  “That’s him.” She thought of the man she’d met today and realized she owed him, too. Not only for Ben but Josh. “I’ll go see him. What do you want me to do?”

  As her brother told her, she visualized Jake Tanner. The glimpse of anguish she’d seen in those dark eyes haunted her. He’d been quick to disguise it until the end when he started backing away from her. That black gaze pierced straight through her heart, and she doubted he even realized what he’d telegraphed to her—he was a man in pain.

  *

  The following Tuesday, Emma brought a terrier on a leash into the back room of the Harris Animal Hospital where she worked for Dr. Harris, the father of her best friend, Abbey Winters. “I think this gal will be great to train as a service dog. She’s smart and eager.”

  “Even tempered?” Abbey, her partner in the Caring Canines Foundation, asked as she looked at the medium-size dog with fur that was various shades of brown.

  “Surprisingly calm. That combined with this breed’s determination and devotion can make a good service dog.”

  “I’ll take her out to Caring Canines since you’re working with the German shepherd at your house.” The kennel and training facilities of the organization were housed at Winter Haven Ranch where Abbey lived with her husband, Dominic.

  “Shep will make a good service dog, too. I’ve even got a possible owner for him. You know I’ve been doing the same training with Shep as I did with Butch.”

  “How is your brother?”

  “Doing so much better. I talked to Ben twice this past weekend.”

  Abbey’s eye
brows lifted. “That’s unusual. Doesn’t your brother hate talking on the phone?”

  “Yeah, he prefers video chatting where he can see a person’s face, and the second time that’s what we did. I got to see Butch. Ben looks better each time I see him. Butch has been good for my brother, and if what Ben thinks is true, Shep will be good for Captain Tanner.”

  “Another soldier? Is it a physical injury? PTSD?”

  “Both. When those kids I told you about yesterday jumped Josh, Captain Tanner was the man who rescued him. After he left my house Saturday, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d heard that name somewhere. I finally remembered Ben served under a Captain Jake Tanner.”

  “So you called your brother to find out. I know how you are when you get something in your head. You don’t give up until you find out the truth.”

  Emma laughed. “You’ve nailed me. I called him to see. Ben did some checking around after we talked on Saturday and found out that Captain Tanner has basically withdrawn into his house. Ben has a few connections, and one thought the captain was suffering from PTSD, although he doesn’t seem to be participating in any therapy groups through the VA.”

  “How does Captain Tanner feel about having a service dog?”

  “I don’t know. I only talked to him that one time. I plan on taking him some brownies as a thank-you for helping Josh. Shep will go with me. I’ll introduce him to the idea of a service dog slowly.”

  She wasn’t sure if Jake Tanner would even open the door. She’d use the excuse she needed more information about the three boys who attacked Josh. Not only did she want to help the captain if he was suffering from PTSD, but she did need descriptions of the boys to give her an idea who could be bullying Josh. His teacher had requested any information to help her with the situation at school.

  “Shep could help him, but he needs counseling, too. Maybe he’s getting private therapy.”

  “Possibly, but Ben doesn’t think so from what he’s hearing from his army buddies in the area. Do you have room in your PTSD group?” Though Emma’s best friend ran the Caring Canines Foundation, she still conducted a few counseling groups.

 

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