A Fragmented Journey (The New York Journey Book 1)

by Gracie Guy

  Within ten minutes, they were greeted by the usual cacophony created by the dogs. Kara hung up her coat while they raced out into the winter night. When she turned from the closet, she held out her hand for John’s ski jacket.

  “Um, no thanks. I’m gonna go.” For the first time all day, he didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Something wrong?” She felt the immediate panic race through her body, afraid she’d done something to offend him.

  “No. Absolutely nothing. I had a great afternoon with a beautiful woman.”

  Kara smiled at his compliment. “Thank you. I enjoyed it—” Before she could finish her sentence, he pulled her into his arms.

  His left hand held her chin as his lips connected with hers. Lightning bolts flickered in her head at the gentle sexiness of his kiss. Moaning slightly, she leaned back into his embrace while his tongue teased her lips into parting. Her senses inventoried it all—the musky smell of his cologne, the strength of his arms around her, the delightful minty taste of him. A deeper moan was about to spring forth when he pulled his lips away. Her eyes fluttered open to see a mischievous grin on his face.

  “I have to go.”

  Kara knew her eyes were begging for an explanation.

  “I have to be back up north early tomorrow. There’s paperwork I must file for the abandoned warehouse case.”

  “Oh, okay. I guess duty calls.” She tried to step out of his embrace to hide her disappointment, but he held her firm.

  “Any plans for this weekend?”

  She shook her head, no.

  “Then how about I come back Saturday and show you the neighborhood where I grew up?”

  The prospect of learning more about this delightful man thrilled her. “Sure. That’d be cool.” She knew she was giggling but didn’t care.

  “Good. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He gave her a peck on the lips and stepped through the front door as the dogs barreled in, covered in new fallen snow.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Who knew that Albany was so beautiful? Between social engagements, concerts and jobs, Kara had been in and around New York’s capitol city her whole life. But it wasn’t until she saw it through John’s eyes that she noticed the detail on the houses, the snow covered gardens protected from careless feet by wrought iron fences, and the churches. So many Catholic churches. Some now abandoned, others reclaimed by other denominations. All of them wrapped in brick or stone, with countless stained glass windows. Rectories and schools withered next door or immediately behind them.

  She watched John’s eyes dance with joy as he regaled her with stories from his childhood. He and his brothers—Tim, Patrick, and Liam—were a regular Irish army, scaling trees and buildings. They’d brandish anything that resembled a weapon and declare war on the Italian family of boys two houses down the street, the Teranovas. Andre, Tony, Michael, Luigi, and Dominick may have outnumbered the scrappy Irish sons of Mrs. Harley, but they always lost the battle. However, at the end of any given day over a twenty-year span, you could always find a Harley palling around with a Teranova. Their loyalty to each other, and their neighborhood, was something Kara had never experienced.

  John pulled his Jeep to the curb, pointing to a humble two-story house set back from the street. “There.” He paused a second. “That’s where my mother raised her brood of hooligans.”

  Kara’s eyes were riveted to the massive tree dominating the front yard. “How many times did you fall out of it?”

  “Me, none. But Liam gave himself a compound fracture in his left leg one year for his birthday.”

  She was silent as she looked at the house, taking in the porch and the number of windows peering over its first story roof. “And that? How often did your mother yell at you to get back in your bedroom? She pointed to the top of the porch.

  “Ha! Countless. She probably would have nailed the windows shut except it was the only way to cool the house off in the summer.”

  Kara picked up John’s hand, wrapping it with her own. “How long did you live here?”

  “My whole life. It stayed in the family until my mom died a few years ago. By then everybody already had a house of their own, so we sold this one.”

  “What about your dad?” She winced as John pulled his hand from hers, wondering if she’d injured him with her question.

  “My dad died the winter Tim and I were in our senior year at CBA.” He paused for a moment while his eyes scanned the street. “It was the last storm of the season.” He squinted, as if he were trying to get the story to come into focus. “He was an Albany cop. Crossing the top of State Street hill on foot, about halfway into his shift, heading to the Waldorf Cafeteria for lunch. A car came down around the capitol and ran the red light. My dad was dead before the guy could even stop in the snow.”

  Kara gasped in surprise as she pulled his hand back into her own, resting it in her lap. She waited for him to finish before exposing her own knowledge of that day.

  “Tim and I finished our senior year. Pat and Liam got transferred to Albany High to save on tuition. My mom wanted to keep my sister, Mary Kate, in Catholic school and didn’t have the money for all three of them to go to private school. So, the younger boys went to the public one.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Kara tried to lighten the mood. “How about lunch? I hear the best pizza in town is just a few blocks from here.”

  Much to her relief, John happily took her cue. “Yes, The Orchard Tavern. Let’s go.”

  Silently they drove the few blocks, took seats and placed their order before Kara spoke. “John, I was there the day your dad died.”

  He cocked his head inquisitively, without saying a word.

  “My dad ran the bank next door to the Waldorf. It was called Permanent Savings and Loan. My mom worked there too.” She stopped to see if he would question her, but all he did was stare across the table. “Whenever I had a day off from school, I went to work with them. My dad and I were just leaving the bank to pick up lunch at the Waldorf when the accident happened.”

  He stretched one hand across the table to her. “You’re the girl in the photo.”

  “What photo?”

  “That day the afternoon paper, the Knickerbocker News, carried a story about the accident. And there was a picture of a man and a girl standing on the sidewalk. The man was talking to a cop. The girl had her face buried in the man’s trench coat.”

  “How do you know this?”

  John shook his head, but a smile was starting to creep on to his handsome face. “Because my mother saved it. And every year, on the anniversary of his death, she’d take it out. And since I’m the oldest, now I have it.”

  Kara tried to absorb the happiness he was conveying. Here they’d been talking about how his dad died and he was practically glowing. “I don’t understand why it makes you happy.”

  By now he had taken both of her hands across the table. “Fate my beautiful lass. Fate.”

  She chuckled a little. “Are you suggesting we’ve been destined to meet since I was ten?”

  “I’m just saying that we’ve been linked for two decades without even knowing it.”

  Just then their pizza arrived, requiring them to let go of each other to make room in the center of the small wooden table.

  #####

  On the ride back to Kara’s house, she told him she was on barn duty since her friend, Laurie, was out of town. “We can go there now, or I’ll circle back after you leave.”

  John thought she sounded tentative. Hhhmm, is this a test for the city boy? “We can go now. I’ve got insulated gloves in the back seat.” He loved seeing her smile.

  But she could be such a contradiction. One minute she was challenging with her hands on her hips, setting him on fire with the sparks from her eyes. And then, frequently in the same conversation, she’d grow timid and fearful, practically shrinking while waiting for a response from him. He often questioned how badly her late husband must have treated her. Either that or she was an un-medicated bipolar pati
ent. He preferred to think the worst about the jackass he’d found trussed in leather all those months ago.

  When they reached the farm, he watched Kara jog to the house, opening the door for her friend’s dogs to run free. They nipped and growled at each other, rapidly making their way to where he stood by the barn. More friggin’ big dogs? What’s with these women?

  He followed Kara through the barn, glancing in several stalls he passed. “Sure is tidy.”

  “Yeah. I did all the cleaning this morning. This will just take a few minutes to get them inside.”

  At the back of the barn, they looked across a large pasture blanketed in snow. In the center, six horses surrounded a big pile of what he assumed was hay. Without warning, Kara let out an ear-splitting wolf whistle.

  “Whoa.” He covered his right ear. “You could have warned…”

  But he was cut off in mid-sentence by pounding feet and Kara’s laughter. When he looked away from her, he saw the horses charging at them, bucking and snorting, clumps of snow shooting skyward from their hooves. Sweet Jesus I’m going to die! They came to an abrupt stop inches from the tubular steel gate he’d been leaning on seconds before. He stepped back, safely pressed against the wall while Kara led the first horse inside—one hand on the halter, the other deftly closing the gate before another animal could enter. He watched her repeat the process, skillful and commanding, yet gentle with each animal. After the last horse was inside, he slid the big barn door closed, blocking out the winter wind.

  He turned around just as Kara slid the last door hasp in place. She moved to the first horse she’d brought in, clucking lightly until the small animal popped her head over the door. He stood in the center of the barn, mesmerized by the sweet nothings she whispered to the dark bay horse that he’d first seen in her barn in Lake Placid, and the kisses she planted on its muzzle.

  Watching her in her element, in this intimate moment, he felt his body engorge with desire. Not wanting to scare the horse, John approached slowly and slid his arm around Kara’s waist. He pulled her around to meet him, barely able to control his breathing. With teenage fervor, he trapped her mouth with his own trembling lips, his tongue probing gently until she moaned.

  When he leaned back, her rosebud lips were glistening from his kiss. “You are so sexy.” He watched her blink in surprise. “Yes, right here in this barn, right now, I just want to rip off your clothes.”

  She placed her hand on his chest, but said nothing.

  “I mean it.”

  She blushed slightly as she looked down his abdomen, his erection filling the jeans he wore. “I know.”

  “Seriously, Kara. I have seen you at your worst moment in life. I have seen you wearing sheer stockings and stilettos. I have seen you covered in dog hair. And, just now, I saw you at your happiest place—loving, sweet and sexy when you kissed that horse.”

  She stood on her tippy-toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips brushing against his ear. “It’s kind of cold in here. Maybe in the spring we can christen my new barn.” She nipped his lobe before running her tongue down his neck, pausing briefly, playing with his escalating pulse.

  Taking his hand, she pulled him out into the winter evening. “Come on big guy, my own dogs need to be let out.” With a troublemaking giggle, she spent the ride to her house with his hand held captive. She licked his fingers until he thought he’d explode.

  #####

  As she climbed into bed, alone, Kara couldn’t believe the day they’d spent together. So much emotion tumbled from John as he took her down the proverbial memory lane. Streets, penny candy stores, churches and more—each location had a special story.

  And then in Laurie’s barn, she was overwhelmed by his spontaneous reaction to her giving Diva a good night kiss. Her late husband had never noticed how she handled the horses, let alone been moved by it.

  Even after his obvious turn on and then her teasing him all the way home, John had left her wanting more. When he refused again to remove his coat, she knew a childish pout was pasted on her face.

  “I don’t have the will power to keep my hands off of you.”

  She leaned into his hips, knowing what she’d find there. “Do you hear me complaining?”

  His chest rumbled under her ear. “I think Mrs. Maloney’s little girl has quite a naughty streak.” She heard his sharp intake of breath when she moved her leg, pressing the waist band of her own denim farther into his enormous package. He placed his big hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her back from him. Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

  “Good night she devil.” Licking his lips, his words defying his desires. “I need to go.” This time his lips covered hers, further fanning the flames that engulfed both of them. “Really.” He looked down into her eyes, his pupils hot with need. “I’ll see you a week from Monday when you start the program.”

  And then, he went out to his Jeep, leaving her in a state of desire that beckoned for an interlude with her vibrator. Just before she found her release, she shook her head thinking about what had happened and couldn’t contain a smile. “This John Harley is a very sexy man.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  John circled the parking lot of the State Police Academy, looking for Kara’s truck. When he finally spotted it, he let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The civilian search and rescue program was brand new, and he’d put some of his professional credentials on the line by sponsoring her. The last thing he could afford was for her to be tardy on opening day.

  He wasn’t conscious of wool gathering looking at her truck until he heard the impatient honking of a car. Mildly embarrassed, he waved in his review mirror and moved his unmarked troop car to a reserved parking spot. As he walked into the building, it dawned on him he was excited about seeing Kara. The two trips he’d made to visit her since their dinner at Jack’s had been worth every mile he’d driven, even in the snow.

  He’d been alone, and lonely, a long time. One night stands with women he’d met in various vacation towns did not qualify as personal relationships. Those were more like a pressure relief valve on a boiler—used for blowing off steam. Spending time with Kara gave him hope—for happiness, for companionship, and maybe even a family.

  John’s eyes adjusted to the inside lights as he scanned the crowd. The lobby smelled like a kennel, filled with various breeds of dogs drooling and whining on the patterned marble tile. Finally, he caught the glint of copper in Kara’s hair. Her smile exploded as their eyes locked. He knew there were twenty handlers involved with the program, but he didn’t realize she was the only woman.

  He crossed the lobby quickly, extending his right hand to her. Keep it professional, Harley. Other people might be watching. “Ms. Maloney, how nice to see you.” He winked at the quizzical look on her face. “Are you and your dogs ready for this pilot program?”

  “Yes, Sergeant Harley.” She released his hand to pet the two heads sitting quietly by her side. “They think the other dogs whine too much.” John caught her conspiratorial wink in response to his.

  “Maybe they’ve just had more socialization than the others.”

  “Whatever.” Kara waved away his silly attempt at being politically correct. “We’re eager to start the training.”

  “Good.” He pointed to a hallway. “I have to check in with a few people. They should be bringing everyone into a large conference room soon.” He extended his right hand again, this time trapping hers with his left. “I’ll see you at lunch time Ms. Maloney.”

  John could barely contain his grin when he heard her deep chuckle to his retreating back. He hoped the other handlers wouldn’t give her shit for being the only woman. But, he was sure she’d make short work of any of them who underestimated her and tried.

  ***

  Late Thursday evening, Kara dropped into her couch with a stack of reading material, exhausted from the first week of classes. She looked across the room. Her boys were both lying flat on their mas
sive pillows, snoring. Even the dogs are tired.

  She began flipping through the notes from class. Occasionally she’d open the textbook provided to research something. But when she came across references to her sponsor, she got distracted.

  Hhhmmm…her sponsor. When John walked into the lobby that Monday morning, she couldn’t believe the joy surging through her. Tall and commanding in a beige trench coat, his black suit playing peek-a-boo through the open front. His clean-shaven, high cheekbones carried just a smidgen of red chill from the early January morning. And what a fine-looking smile when their eyes met. Just thinking of him filled her with warmth and longing. “Settle down girl. You’ve got lots of studying to do here.”

  But her mind kept wandering. Thinking about earlier in the evening, when classes were finished for the week. She knew she was a little on edge. Just after lunch when class had started up again, a couple of the younger men in her class had been making vulgar comments about her. When it turned to perverted speculation about her and her boys, she’d fought back, filleting them with her tongue. As she and the dogs were crossing the parking lot at the Academy, her heart hammered as an unmarked Troop car pulled next to her. When the tinted window revealed John’s handsome face, she felt a teenage giggle of relief escape.

  “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  Slowly he drove the car next to her as she walked. “I had to deliver some stuff to the lab for a rush order.” He reached out for the gloved hand she had placed on his open window. “Got time for dinner?”

  Kara looked down at her companions. Starting to shake her head, he interrupted her declination.

  “There’s a Mickey D’s over on Central. We can take both vehicles and sit in your truck to eat. Okay?”

  She couldn’t resist his plan. “Deal. I’ll follow you over.”

  They spent the next hour in her idling truck, feeding French fries to the dogs and chatting about any topic that came to mind. It didn’t matter where the conversation went, they simply enjoyed each other’s company. Before John got in his own car to drive north, they shared a searing kiss that left her wanting more.