Unsanctioned Memories Page 11

  He walked right up to Jessica and kissed her on the cheek, just as he had that afternoon. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Jessica. Don’t be such a stranger.”

  “I don’t mean to be,” she answered, appreciating his low-key counterpoint to his mother’s imperiousness. “Work keeps me tied up so much, it’s hard to get away from the cabin sometimes.”

  But Trudy wasn’t out of the conversation yet. She brushed a microscopic crumb from the lapel of Charles’s gray Armani suit. “If we could get you out of that garden of yours, maybe you could pay Jessica a visit sometime.”

  “Mother.” He caught her hand and gave it a swift kiss. “It’s an arboretum. The garden is outside.” He released Trudy and grinned like a schoolboy. “You see what I put up with, Jessica? It’s a work of art. I designed it from the ground up. Literally. And she doesn’t even appreciate that I’m helping the economy by hiring a few of the locals to do the work.”

  “I thought it was gorgeous. Imagine, orchids blooming year-round here in the Midwest. I’m sure you’ll appreciate all that greenery after our ninth or tenth snowfall.”

  “You’ll have come see it then,” Charles offered. “We’ll have dinner.”

  Jessica’s good humor vanished for an instant. She squeezed her eyes shut, fearing the onset of another flashback. Right here. In front of friends. In plain sight of a hundred guests.

  The flashbacks were coming more frequently now. She needed to call her therapist. Maybe it was a sign that her memory was returning.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Trudy Kent’s face swam into focus as Jessica blinked open her eyes.

  No image, no emotion flooded her senses. She forced herself to breathe. It wasn’t a flashback, after all. More like a panic attack because it sounded for all the world as if Charles Kent had asked her out on a date. Was that all it was? A nervous, adolescent reaction to being asked out by an attractive man?

  Would she ever feel self-assured again?

  She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. “I’m coming down with a nasty headache.” It wasn’t a lie. The stress of the evening had wound a taut twist of pain behind her left eye. “I’d better be getting home.”

  “Do you need me to drive you?” Charles’s forehead creased with concern.

  “I’ll be fine. I have Harry in the truck, anyway.” As dear as Charles and Trudy could be, she knew neither one had a love for any creature that shed. Especially in Trudy’s Mercedes or Charles’s Range Rover. She pulled her keys from the pocket of her cobalt linen slacks, buttoned the matching jacket and headed for the door. “Thanks for everything. Good night.”

  Jessica closed the door on their responding good-nights and inhaled a deep breath of the muggy night air. It wasn’t all that refreshing, but it was quiet. And after waving off the valet’s offer to fetch her truck and acknowledging the uniformed deputy watching the front door, she was alone.

  She hoped.

  There was no need for pretense now. Carefully sweeping her gaze from side to side, Jessica stepped off the well-lit porch and headed down the front walk, away from the people and lights and noise. She armed herself with the tiny canister of pepper spray on her key chain and wished like hell Harry was here beside her rather than snoozing in the cab of her truck at the end of the long, shadowed driveway.

  “GO ON, BOY. Go get it.” Jessica leaned back and hurled the tennis ball as if she was throwing out a runner from the wall in center field. She laughed as Harry leaped to try and catch it, tumbled over his feet with excitement, then took off at a dead run across the length of the yard to retrieve it.

  She was always amazed at how entertaining a tiny tennis ball could be to a 120-pound dog. Harry had an uncanny ability to find his favorite toy, even during a nighttime romp like this. She cringed to think how well seasoned the ball must be in order for him to track its scent, its fluorescent-yellow cover having long since been chewed to a dingy beige.

  When he came bounding back into the circle of light cast by the yard lamp near the porch, Jessica braced herself. He would never hurt her intentionally, but, in enthusiastic mode like this, he could knock her flat without meaning to. Harry skidded to a halt on the patchy grass between the cabin and barn and dropped the ball at her feet. His pink tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as he panted with exertion and excitement and eagerly waited for her to launch it again.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of this game?” she teased, feeling herself relax as she helped the dog unwind. He deserved a good run after being cooped up in the truck for a couple of hours at the Kents’ estate. She’d briefly considered walking him up to her metal work shed in the woods and back, but it was pushing ten o’clock and the security lights attached to her buildings didn’t light all of the gravel road in between. So she’d settled for a rousing game of fetch.

  Harry looked down at the ball, then up at her, one black ear flopping over to the side as he cocked his head. His brown-black eyes and dancing version of a sit communicated as clearly as if he had spoken.

  Jessica shook her head, unable to stop herself from smiling. “Okay. One more time.” She picked up the ball and lobbed it into the woods at the far end of the barn. “Go get it.”

  Harry charged after it, disappearing into the brush and darkness at the edge of the trees.

  “Have you ever thought about pitching for the Red Sox?” A dark voice, tinged with a little bit of Irish and a whole lot of humor startled her.

  Surprised by the unexpected company, her breath initially caught in her throat. But Jessica quickly exhaled and settled into banter mode. “The Bosox? Are you kidding?”

  “Hey, don’t knock the Bosox.” Sam sauntered down the stairs beside the garage, looking big and lean in a pewter-gray work shirt and smooth-fitting jeans. He rolled up his sleeves as he approached her, exposing the muscular strength of his forearms. His sunburn had cooled to a light golden tan which complemented the sprinkle of dark hair across his skin.

  Jessica stood taller, feeling more aware of herself and her surroundings, as if each color, each sound, each scent intensified with every step he took toward her. It was a heady, scary, normal feeling.

  “I’m a Royals fan from day one,” she avowed. “It’s an annual tradition for Dad and me to go to the season opener at Kauffman Field. I would never play for the competition.”

  “Loyal to the bone, eh?” He slipped his fingers into his pockets as he stopped beside her in the circle of light. “I noticed your team isn’t headed for the World Series this year.”

  “Yours isn’t, either,” she glibly pointed out. The night air warmed and softened as she traded taunts with this stern-faced charmer.

  Their camaraderie remained in place when Harry came loping back into the yard, the tennis ball proudly clenched between his jaws. The dog’s long stride hitched a step when he noticed Sam standing beside his mistress, but then he ambled on up to Jessica’s feet and dropped the ball. Maybe he could sense her comfort at the moment, or maybe the thrill of the game made Sam’s presence only a minor distraction.

  “That’s Mama’s good boy.” She reached down and scratched the dog around the ears and muzzle, praising him and loving him and savoring this ordinary, peaceful moment.

  “You think he’d let me throw one?” Sam asked.

  Jessica straightened, surprised by the offer. “You want to be friends with Harry?” That was almost like being friends with her. But the idea of growing closer to Sam didn’t alarm her as much as she’d thought it would. “We can try.”

  She scooped up the ball, conscious of the dog’s attentive gaze as she held the ball above Sam’s outstretched hand. “I warn you—slobber ball is not for the faint of heart.”

  Sam’s stony expression lit with a cocky grin. “Well, that wouldn’t describe me, now, would it.”

  He snatched the ball from her fingers, spun his arm back in a huge windup and sent the ball flying like a bullet deep into the trees. “Go get it!”

  Jessica laughed a
s Harry vaulted into the woods and disappeared. She pursed her lips together and whistled in mock awe. “We won’t see him for three days. Are you sure you don’t want to pitch for the majors?”

  Massaging his shoulder, Sam offered a wry smile. “I think my pitching days ended somewhere around the ninth grade. I developed other skills instead.”

  She’d be curious to know what special skills this tall, dark mystery man possessed. But right now she was more concerned about the wince of pain that tightened his lips. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  He shook his head. “Just a little stiff. You’ve got me doing more physical labor than I’ve done in months.” He stopped her protest before it started. “I’m not complaining. In fact, I’m enjoying the mental break. Besides, I saved the toughest part of the hauling and shoveling for tomorrow when your high-school friend can help. We’ll use the mini-bulldozer to—”

  Sam stopped abruptly at what sounded like a drawer full of silverware being dumped on its side—out in the middle of the woods. The distant shattering sound was punctuated by a deep-pitched bark.

  Jessica turned toward the trees where Harry had disappeared. Every muscle in her body clenched with a sudden, expectant tension. “You hear that?”

  “I heard it.” Sam patted his side, then glanced up at his apartment door before turning his head and peering deep into the night. Whatever stiffness he’d felt a moment ago had transformed into a fluid alertness. He was already moving—lightly, surely—on the balls of his feet. A second crash, then a third, splintered the heavy air. “Sounds like your storage shed. Wait here. I’ll check it out.”

  “You’ll check—” Harry barked in the distance, calling out a terrible, ferocious alarm. “Harry?” Jessica’s caution became fear for her dearest friend. Adrenaline poured through her veins, pushing her leaden feet into action. “Harry!”

  Sam had already rounded the end of the barn, and Jessica ran to catch up. She pressed her tongue against her teeth and whistled. If nothing else got Harry’s attention…

  She was halfway through the three-note call when a large, hard hand slipped across her mouth, muffling the whistle and a startled shriek of terror. “I love that you can do that, lady, but you’ve gotta be quiet.”

  The rueful admiration in that hushed voice pressed against her ear didn’t immediately register. Instead, the panicked instinct to fight for freedom had her kicking out and swinging wide with her fist. Strong arms lifted her off the ground and thrust her up against the side of the barn. A tall, dark silhouette of controlled strength trapped her in the shadows. But her heels hit dirt and her fist bounced off an immovable shoulder.

  “It’s me.” Sam quickly identified himself and pulled his hand away.

  She couldn’t remember enough to say that a hand stifling her mouth or being grabbed from behind reminded her of her attack. But the feelings she remembered were crystal clear. Trapped. Foolish. Strong enough to want to fight, not nearly strong enough to win.

  “Don’t…” Jessica breathed hard, from short-circuiting emotions more than exertion. “Don’t startle me like that.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Ever.”

  She splayed one hand across her chest, as if that could somehow soothe the frenetic aftershocks of her pounding heart. The other hand clung to the cool ridges of steel that formed the wall behind her. Now that she knew where she was and whom she was with, she was torn by the need to wrap herself against Sam’s warm, solid chest to find comfort the way she had all too briefly last night, and the self-preserving urge to run away and put as much distance between him and her needy desires as possible.

  He propped one hand on the wall above her shoulder as if sensing her thoughts of escape. He wasn’t touching her in any way, but he didn’t back off an inch, keeping her pinned in place with nothing more than his proximity. Her body pulsed with an edgy alertness of every taut stretch of his soft cotton shirt, every nuance of expression that darkened his moonlit eyes with shots of gunmetal gray, every gram of heat that radiated between his body and hers.

  “I’m sorry I frightened you.” His stern mouth hovered close to her face. “But what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Boldly she tilted her gaze to meet his. “Saving my dog.”

  “By charging blindly into who knows what?” Sam’s voice never rose above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the admonition there. “He’s a guard dog. Let him guard.”

  “We don’t know what’s out there.” Jessica flattened her palms across the dangerous territory of his chest and shoved him back a step, slipping away the instant she was free. “I have to call him back. What if he’s hurt?”

  A snarling combination of barks and growls filled the night. Sam grabbed her arm and jerked her to a halt. “He doesn’t sound hurt.”

  “He’s not your dog.” Jessica twisted free. “And I said not to touch me like that.” She pushed aside a bramble of tall weeds and fading grass and plunged into the woods.

  “Dammit, Jess.”

  Dead branches and scattered ground cover snapped beneath each step, poking and scratching her feet through the open sides of her sandals. Sam made no sound when he moved, but she knew he was coming after her. Just like that first day on the road. Always coming. Ever closer. For her.

  “I’m going to take your hand.”

  “What?”

  He declared his intention an instant before he folded his hand around hers, locking them together. Jessica stumbled and caught herself, more startled by the announcement than by the actual touch.

  “I don’t want you to be frightened of me,” he explained, never breaking stride. He pulled her along with him, crouching behind the fat, gnarled trunk of an ancient oak. “There could be something worse out there to worry about. We’ll go together.”

  That he would spare precious seconds to reassure her with his low-pitched promise was a consideration that warmed her from the inside out. The gentle pressure of his grip told her they were a team. She wasn’t a victim or a crazy lady or anything except his equal.

  “Remind me to thank you later.” She squeezed his hand in gratitude. Harry was howling now. “But can we hurry?”

  Jessica matched his hunched posture and held on as they jogged through the trees. Sam kept them hidden in the shadows and avoided the road, somehow finding his way without compass or flashlight in the dark.

  The dark? They should be approaching the work shed by now. “What happened to the light?” she whispered. “There should be—”

  Sam suddenly ducked behind a stand of pin oaks and dragged Jessica in beside him. “Come here.” He warned her of his intention an instant before releasing her hand and dropping his arm around her waist and tucking her to his side. He pressed his index finger against his lips in a request for silence. “Stay close.”

  Jessica complied. She wrapped her arm behind his back and clutched a handful of the front of his shirt, pulling herself closer to his protective strength. He anchored his hand at the curve of her hip and completed the embrace. She turned her cheek into the pillow of his shoulder and held her breath. There. Just on the other side of the trees. She could hear the voices over the barking now, too.

  Along with the abrasive scratch of Harry’s claws against the shed’s steel door. Someone was holed up inside.

  “…you idiot!” That voice came from outside. “C’mon. That dog’ll wake everybody up.” It was a man’s voice she didn’t recognize, hoarse and deep. The urgency of his command was emphasized by the rev and rattle of a big engine being coaxed into running smoothly. “If it hasn’t already. Move it!”

  Sam angled his back against the tree and pulled Jessica right up into the V of his legs, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her impossibly closer. Shielding her from view and danger with the bulk of his own body.

  “He won’t let me out!” A second voice, muffled by the walls of the shed, sounded frantic. “Damn dog.”

  Go, Harry. Jessica silently cheered. A couple of yahoos had tres
passed on her property and broken into her shed. But the dog, apparently, had trapped one man inside.

  The man who must be driving swore, a long and colorful diatribe that made his impatience perfectly clear. The engine gunned and tires kicked up gravel that pinged against the steel wall of the shed. The dog squealed in pain and Jessica jerked in Sam’s grasp. The barking ceased.

  “Harry?” She breathed the name against the wall of Sam’s chest and wedged her arms between them to push away and go to his aid. But Sam held her firmly in place. He dipped his mouth beside her ear. “Easy, babe. He’s okay.”

  Harry snarled again, right on cue, turning his attention to the pickup truck wheeling around the corner of the shed. With its headlights off, it was just a big shadow careening through the night. A deadly shadow that could be used as a weapon to hurt her dog.

  She didn’t speak her fears out loud, but Sam could sense them. The lips beside her ear became a gentle kiss at her temple. “He’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “If he can handle me, he can handle these bozos.”

  Harry’s renewed barking was drowned out beneath the noise of the truck as it spun a U-turn and slammed to a stop so close to the front of the building that Jessica cringed at the screech of metal grating against metal.

  “Use the window!” the voice from the truck yelled. “Climb in.”

  There weren’t many details she could make out around the thrust of Sam’s shoulder, but she caught a glimpse of a figure crawling out through the front window of the shed. He dove straight into the bed of the truck. It was too dark to make out shapes and faces, or even be sure there were only two intruders.

  “I’ll be ready for you next time, you damn dog.” The man in the bed shouted the threat and tumbled out of sight as the truck peeled away from the shed and fishtailed onto the gravel road.

  “Stay put.” The instant the danger was moving away from them, Sam set her firmly aside. Her body flushed with chill bumps as she was suddenly denied his surrounding heat. He slapped his hand against his side, then gritted his teeth and swore. “Damn.”