The Keeper. Rhonda Nelson
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fear. He’d dialed 911 from the shop phone, left the receiver on the kitchen counter and ran for it.
Because he needed to know how she was, Bobby Ray decided that he’d find a pay phone and start calling the local hospitals. The idea that he could have seriously wounded her—or worse—was eating him up inside. How had this happened? he wondered again, feeling the hopelessness close in around him. How had things gotten so completely out of his control? It was only a matter of time before Uncle Mackie turned up at the dairy, Bobby Ray thought.
And Audwin would fire him for sure then.
Dammit, he had to get that coin back. He had to.
“LISTEN, MARIETTE, I know that the guys have stomped in and taken over your protection and this case, but they mean well,” Charlie told her once the afternoon crowd thinned a bit. “They consider you a friend. In their own weird way they genuinely believe that they’re doing what’s best for you.”
“I know that,” Mariette said, feeling trapped and exasperated. With herself more than anyone. “And it’s not that I don’t appreciate it because I do.”
And that was true. She’d never had a father, or even a big brother for that matter, who’d had her back. It was odd having Payne insist on taking care of this problem because she’d always taken care of her own problems. Once she’d gotten over hearing so many orders fired at her regarding her house, her shop and her safety, she’d been able to stop and consider that and she’d found that, high-handedness aside, she rather liked that they wanted to protect her. That they thought enough of her to do that.
She’d just been so rattled this morning after the attack that she hadn’t been able to think clearly. Mariette had never been afraid before, especially here in her own space. To find that she was vulnerable had been more than a bit disconcerting. She’d spent three hours in the E.R. and, despite various protests from all sides, had come back to the shop to start work. She’d had to—she wasn’t just her own boss, she was also the boss of four employees and she did the bulk of the work.
If something got ruined or didn’t turn out right, it had an immediate impact on her bottom line. She couldn’t afford to just take off, not with dozens of pastries, cupcakes and cakes to make. Furthermore, if she’d gone upstairs and crawled into bed instead of continuing in her own routine … It felt too much like letting him win.
And that was simply unacceptable.
That said, despite the fact that she was equally dreading and anticipating Jack Martin taking over as her security guard tonight, Mariette had to admit that she was looking forward to being able to turn the watch over to him. She was dead on her feet and she could feel the hooks of exhaustion sinking in and tugging at her from all sides. She had a no-sleep headache on top of the headache the intruder had given her and would like nothing more than a warm cookie, a glass of milk and her bed.
With any luck, she’d be too tired by six o’clock to worry about lusting after Jack Martin.
Somehow, she doubted it.
Merely the thought of him made her nipples tingle and a heavy heat build low in her belly. She’d like to tell herself that the only reason she found him so irresistible was because she’d sworn off men for a while—sort of like the everything-looks-more-delicious-on-a-diet mentality—but she knew better.
Jack Martin was … different.
She’d felt it from the instant he’d walked into her store. A quickening, an awareness of sorts, that had tripped some sort of internal trigger, made her more conscious of him. She was equally unnerved and transfixed. Not a recipe for contentment.
“This is my brother’s first case for Ranger Security,” Charlie remarked as she straightened a tablecloth. “Since coming out of the military.” There was a strange undertone to her voice that Mariette couldn’t readily identify. Sadness, maybe? Regret, definitely.
Intrigued, she turned to look at her. “Oh?”
Charlie bit her lip. “I know that we’re not as close as you and Emma Payne are, and I really have no right to ask you this, but …” She hesitated, clearly torn.
“But what, Charlie?” Mariette wanted to know, genuinely curious.
“But could you take it easy on him, please?” she asked, her eyes softening with entreaty. “Don’t make Jack pay for Payne’s methods. My big brother has been through sheer hell the past six months and he needs to do this. He needs to help you. He needs to prove to them—and to himself—that he can.”
Wow. Mariette didn’t know what she’d expected Charlie to say, but that certainly wasn’t anything she would have imagined. Jack had been through hell? What sort of hell? What did she mean by that? Her heart immediately swelled with compassion and a matching lump inexplicably formed in her throat.
She knew from Emma that Payne, Flanagan and McCann had all come out of the military after the death of a good friend and formed their security company. Was that the sort of hell Charlie was referring to? Had Jack lost someone? A friend? Had he been injured? Had he come out because he’d wanted to? Or because he hadn’t had a choice?
Ultimately none of those questions were any of her business and yet she found herself desperately wanting to know the answers to them and so much more. It was hard to imagine a man as big and vital and alive as Jack Martin being anything other than formidable.
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