Guarded: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Rachel Leigh

  “Wow, you take this thing very seriously.” I suck in my bottom lip and smirk. “Is this a tampon?” I pull it out and hold it up on display.

  He nods. “Sure is. Do you have any idea how many uses a tampon has?”

  “Considering I am a female, which is the targeted customer for the product, I believe I do.”

  “This”—he takes it from my hand—“isn’t just used as a vagina plug.”

  Chuckling, I feel my face heat up. “Vagina plug?”

  “Yes. Vagina plug. It can also be used for nose bleeds, ear plugs, stop a leak in a boat, a toothbrush, kindling. The possibilities are endless.” He stuffs it back into the bag then zips it up.

  “Okay. I can see how that would work. Now tell me, have you ever had to stick one up your nose to stop it from bleeding?”

  “I have not.” He holds up a finger and takes on a playful tone. “But I would if I needed to.”

  Still laughing, I agree with him. “I bet you would.” Nash is an all-around Boy Scout. Soldier, outdoorsman, he’s street smart and book smart. He’s pretty much everything a woman would want or need in a man. Gemma sure is lucky to have his heart.

  I wonder if she knew how lucky she was.

  Chapter Ten

  Nash

  Only twenty minutes into the drive, Rowan passed out mid-thought. She was rambling on something about her cat that ran away and came back a month later, then she gazed out the window and fell asleep. If only it were that easy for all of us.

  ‘Beautiful Crazy’ by Luke Combs is playing through the speakers and I turn the volume up a little, but not enough to startle her awake. She looks so peaceful with her hand wrapped around the seat belt and her cheek resting on top of it. A smile creeps on my face when she begins smacking her lips together. I’d bet money that she’s a snorer like her sister.

  We reach the Welcome to Napa Valley sign and exquisite colors paint the path of the drive. Blazing fire tinted trees stoop over the paved road. A vineyard sits to the right and every vine is in a perfectly sequential line. It’s been a while since I’ve been to this place, but the beauty has remained.

  Gemma and I didn’t have a traditional honeymoon since I was deployed directly following our wedding. Instead, we got a cabin here in Napa and spent the weekend visiting the vineyards and having dinners beneath the sunset on Lake Berryessa.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” I say when Rowan lifts her head.

  Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she turns to me and pinches her lips together in a half smile. “How long was I out?”

  With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on my leg, I flash her a grin. “Only the entire drive.”

  “What?” She gasps. “I slept the whole ride? I missed it all?”

  I chuckle. “You didn’t miss much. Sure, the scenery is nice, but you woke up just in time for the best view of all.”

  Looking around, her eyes widen and she mouths wow. “I knew it was beautiful from coming as a kid, but I must have forgotten just how beautiful it is here.”

  From the driver’s side, I hear her stomach growling. “Hungry?”

  Her hands tuck around her waist. “Starving. I probably should’ve eaten before we left.”

  “Grab the bag from the back seat. I heard you rustling around with some bags of chips in the kitchen. Or we can just grab a bite to eat before the surprise begins.”

  Unsure if she even heard a word I said, she continues to stare out the window with the same sparkle in her eyes as a kid on Christmas morning. My eyes dance from her to the road. “You good until then?”

  “Hmm?” She looks over at me. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Hey.” She does that tonal shift where I know immediately that something is brewing in that mind of hers. “Hey, we should hike Smittle Creek sometime.” Her brows waggle followed by the biggest smirk I’ve seen on her face.

  “Next time. I think you’re gonna like what I have in mind for today.”

  “Next time?” she questions.

  Not even realizing what I said, I immediately eat my words. Reality hits me that Rowan will probably be leaving soon. For good. “If you ever come back for a visit, is what I meant.”

  She nods in agreement, but her expression has changed from giddy to solace—sad even. “Yeah. I could probably do that.”

  When Rowan first showed up at the house a couple weeks ago, I was angry. I couldn’t understand why this girl would just bail on her sister. First the wedding, and then the funeral. Now I get it. Things aren’t always what they appear to be. The happiest of people often harbor sadness. The saddest—well, they are fighting a battle to find happiness. Unfortunately, not all of them do. Gemma lost that battle, and in turn she gave Rowan the strength to keep fighting.

  I’ve gotten pretty used to her being around. I actually enjoy it. Knowing that she’s leaving soon feels like a bee sting to the chest. I have no idea what life will be like when she’s gone. The house will be empty again, the lingering popcorn smell will eventually dissolve, and before long, the house will sell and I’ll be leaving it behind.

  Pulling down the gravel drive of the one-hundred-acre vineyard, Pelton Farms, memories flood my mind. Pushing them aside, I try and focus on the here and now. Mountains peak behind the autumn-touched terrain. White cotton ball clouds fill the blue sky as the sun attempts to break through. Fall has always been my favorite time of year. The weather is perfect, the colors and the scent of the dried leaves offer a sense of calming. Fall is the beginning of the most wonderful time of the year. For a brief moment, that sense of calming washes over me, until I remember who is missing from all of this.

  I look over at Rowan, who carries wonder and excitement in her eyes, and the calmness returns.

  She catches me glancing at her and I turn my head back to the drive. “What?” She laughs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You really do like surprises, don’t you?”

  “Doesn’t everyone? A surprise means that someone put thought into something just for you.”

  There wasn’t much thought put into this, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. I doubt the guys back home would want to go make wine, so taking Rowan while she’s here is probably my best shot at not going alone.

  We pull up to the parking lot that sits about a quarter mile from the winery. “I’m not really a fan of surprises. I like to know what to expect. Part of that might come from past experiences that I couldn’t control.”

  “You mean while you were deployed?”

  Shifting the truck in park, I make a move to get out of this conversation, “Here we are. You ready for this?”

  Her excitement makes it an easy out. “Let’s do it.” She’s already opening the door and climbing out.

  Our doors shut simultaneously as we make our way down the gravel drive that turns to a cobblestone path. For a moment there is silence, aside from the couple walking about twenty feet ahead of us.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?” Rowan asks out of nowhere.

  “Hmm.” I glance over at her. “Talk about what?” I play stupid, but I know exactly what she’s talking about. And no, I don’t want to talk about the fact that less than twenty-four hours before I found out my wife took her life, I was being deemed a hero for saving a life, while watching another die.

  “You mentioned past experiences that you couldn’t control. If you wanna talk about it, I’ll listen.”

  Our eyes catch. For a moment it’s like they are burning life into one another. Something twitches inside of me. While I don’t want to talk about any of it, knowing she cares enough to ask means a lot. Gemma and I didn’t have many in-depth conversations about myself. Most of our talks were about her and her mental health. I never wanted to burden her with my sorrows. It felt selfish. “Maybe another time,” I say, with my eyes still locked on hers.

  She nods. “Okay.”

  As if the wind just blew in this breathtaking scenery that has surrounded us the entire walk, we suddenly notice
. Taking it all in. “Wow, Nash. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Neither have I.” It’s true. I’ve been here once before just for a tasting, but never at this time of the year. Not when the colors are so vivid that they arrest all my thoughts. Vibrant leaves that each carry their own uniqueness. Like a snowflake—no two are the exact same. Sure, they are similar, but each has their own veins and roots. The air has a bite to it that has Rowan hugging her arms. It can’t be any cooler than seventy degrees, but I suppose that’s cold to a girl. Give me shorts and a T-shirt in the fifties and I’m still comfortable.

  “Is that a castle?”

  “Sure is. Pelton Castle. The same family has owned it for over a hundred years. Rumor has it, the youngest son just inherited it from his late father and the grounds are at risk for being run to the ground. Good thing we came today. Might not be here next fall.”

  Her smile tips. “Oh no. That’s terrible. Maybe he just needs to find himself a girl to get him back on track. Fall in love, get married, prioritize.”

  “Doubt that’ll happen, considering he’s known for his ravish lifestyle of debauchery, booze, and drugs. The guy’s like twenty-three with the maturity of a sixteen-year-old boy. There’s no way he’s fit to run this empire. What he needs is to sell it to someone who is.”

  “Well, at least we have today.” Her tone shifts. “So, what’s the plan? Drink some wine and hop over to the next winery?”

  “Actually, this is the only place we are visiting. You’ll see why in a minute.” I nudge my shoulder into hers. “I brought you here for a reason. There is something extra special this one has to offer.”

  The path continues, leading us to the side of the one-hundred-and-twenty-thousand-square-foot stone castle. The landscaping of this place must have taken years to perfect. Hundreds of species of plants can be seen from just this walk. Fire red bushes bursting with buds of bell-shaped silk line the path. Huge trees with twigs holding golden leaves that weep down and touch the green grass beneath them. The most fascinating are the rock cress flowers that look like they are growing right out of the stone of the castle. All the colors of the rainbow cascading like a waterfall.

  “Is this a dream?” Rowan mumbles as she stares up at the side of the four-story monument in front of us.

  “Sure as hell looks like one.”

  Fields of mustard behind the castle run so far that it appears as if the yellow and blue from the sky intersect, creating a green line of fog between them.

  “Where are the fruit vines?” she asks, leaving me wondering the same.

  I raise my shoulders and wave my hand in front of myself, gesturing her inside the open wooden doors. “No idea.”

  I didn’t expect the inside to offer anything more than what we had already seen, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Cream-colored plants that hang from the ceiling resemble chandeliers. There are probably two dozen and I’m not sure if they are actual plants or real chandeliers. If I were able to reach them, I’d probably try to touch them to find out.

  There aren’t many people here, which does surprise me. A few people look around a gift shop to the left of the entrance. A young boy, who is probably no older than seventeen, sits behind the desk. Pushing up his glasses on his nose, he greets us, “Good afternoon. Are you here for our Blackberry Brunch Tasting?”

  I clear my throat. “Actually”—I look at Rowan then back at the gentleman who is wearing a metal name tag with Will engraved on it—“we’d like to do the make-your-own.”

  Looking back at Rowan, her excitement is obvious, “Wait. We get to make our own wine?” She puts a hand on my arm while my hands are stuffed into my pants pockets. “Seriously?”

  Smiling, I nod, then turn back to Will. “Do we need an appointment for that?”

  Shit. I should have probably checked before coming here. I didn’t even think of it until now.

  “Normally, yes. But considering it’s mid-week and the season is slowing down, we offer them on the hour. The next session begins”—he looks at his watch on his wrist—“in about thirty-three minutes. I’ll go ahead and get you checked in and you are welcome to look around before meeting up with your guide.”

  “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Will.”

  After I get us all checked in, Will gives us a brochure to look over then points us in the direction to a café on the second floor of the winding staircase. There is a small balcony that joins that café and we decide to take our sandwiches out there to eat. “This place is amazing, Nash.”

  I swallow down my turkey on rye. “I thought you might like it.”

  A bald man in an all-white server suit walks over to us with a white metal cart full of petite wine bottles and glasses. “May I offer you a taste of our award-winning pinot?”

  Rowan looks at me and I nod. “Sure, we’d love some,” I respond for us both.

  “Excellent.” He pulls out two glasses from the rack on the cart and fills them about half full. “Pelton Della Pinot is one of our most highly anticipated wines by guests who visit the farm. It is made from only the ripest of pinot noir grapes.”

  Rowan licks her lips with the tip of her tongue. Taking every last drop. “Mmm. This is very good. How much does a bottle of this run?” she asks the server.

  “One bottle costs one hundred and ninety-five dollars. Which is a very good price for the aged perfection. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Wow.” Her eyebrows jump to her forehead. “That’s a very good deal.”

  I can sense the sarcasm and I hold back a laugh.

  Mr. Clean here doesn’t sense it one bit. “Shall I ring you up a bottle?”

  “Oh no.” I wave my hand over my glass. “Thank you, but we are making our own today.”

  “I see. Well, please let me know if I can help you at all while you are here and I hope that you’ll enjoy your day at Pelton Farms.” With a graceful nod, he bows out.

  Rowan leans forward. “Two hundred bucks for that stuff. Are you kidding me? I felt like I was drinking rubbing alcohol. It was so dry.”

  “Wait. You said you loved it. You looked like you were going to eat your lips.”

  She huffs, then tosses a cloth napkin at me “I did not.”

  “Oh.” I smirk. “You definitely did.” I begin sucking my lips into my mouth and moaning while I mock her. “Mmmm...this is soooo good.”

  “I did not do that.” She glances around for something else to toss at me but comes up empty-handed. Her face is turning a lovely shade of pink and it’s cute.

  Shifting the tone to a more serious note, I ask, “What do you think so far? Good surprise?”

  “Are you kidding me? This is the best surprise.” Reaching into her purse, she brings her hand back up with her phone. “We have to go meet the guide.”

  “What time is it?” I lean forward and look at her phone when she turns it toward me.

  “Oh shit.” I toss my napkin down on the plate. “We gotta go. There is no way we are going to get all the way to the other side of this place in two minutes.”

  Rowan glances around the table. “Do we just leave this stuff or do we bring it back inside?”

  I take her hand in mine and begin pulling her away. “Leave it.” Once we are back inside, I pick up my pace, dragging her along with me. “And pick up your pace because I think we were supposed to take care of it ourselves.”

  She begins laughing. “Nash, we have to go back then. We can’t just leave our mess.”

  As she tries to stop me, I walk even faster. “All the more reason to move your feet.”

  Her hand feels like satin in mine. Fingers interlocking without thought. Unintentional to start, but completely obvious once we come to a stop outside the main entrance. She looks down between us, then back up at me, and I swear I can feel her heartbeat through the pulse of her fingers. Rampant and sharp. Mimicking my own, because I can feel it in my chest. Pounding on the walls and taking my breath away. Only this time it’s not the scenery surrounding us, it’s the s
cene right before my eyes. The short brunette with eyes that won’t let go of mine. Fingers that dare to retreat but a mind that won’t let them. I feel it, and I know she feels it, too.

  “Nash,” she whispers softly. “We have to hurry.”

  Quickly, I drop her hand free. “Right, we better go.” I begin walking again, knowing she’s following right behind. “I think it’s this way.” I nod toward the left of the castle as we stay on the cobblestone path.

  One more turn from the back and we spot a small gathering in front of us. “Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore?” a young man asks us.

  “Yes,” I respond. “Well, no. I’m Mr. Whitmore…” My voice trails and I shake it off. He doesn’t care.

  “I’m his sister-in-law,” Rowan chimes in, sending an awkwardness into the air that only she and I can feel.

  No one would have believed that she was my sister-in-law two minutes ago when we were running down the stairs holding hands. They’d never believe it if they felt what I felt.

  The electricity. The life she sent back into me with just her touch.

  Now all I feel is shame.

  Shame and guilt.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rowan

  Something is different. Nash is definitely acting strange. “Everything okay?” I ask him quietly as the guide goes over the process. Something I should be listening to, but instead, all I can focus on is making sure that Nash and I are okay. We’ve made so much progress and I’d hate to lose it because of a momentary spark between us. I know he felt it. There is no way that he didn’t with the way he was looking at me. Eyes flooded with awe and lust, his thumb grazing over the skin of my hand. He may not have even noticed he was doing it, but I sure as hell felt it. And dammit if I didn’t like it. I’d give it back, though, if it cost us our friendship.

  He looks over at me, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Just listening. Everything okay with you?” His voice lacks the excitement it had earlier.