She looked at the sky, the few stars already twinkling overhead. “Maybe we should wait—”
“Unless you’ve reconsidered staying with a friend, I’m not leaving until it’s installed.”
He expected her to balk or argue, but she didn’t. Instead, she rested her hand on his forearm. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”
The rush of pleasure turned into a full-blown tidal wave. He had the urge to pull her into his arms and promise to protect her forever.
Forcing himself to deal with the matter at hand, he lifted the box from the trunk and followed her inside.
After they unloaded the wood, he replaced her locks with the new knob-and-deadbolt combos she’d picked out while she settled the boards in place on each of the windows.
When the new locks were installed and tested, he found her at the coffee table. She’d removed all the pieces from the security system box and spread them out, and now she was studying the instruction booklet.
“I see you’ve got a jump on me.”
She glanced at the pieces of plastic and metal and electronics on the table. “It’s like tackling Everest.”
“Call me Sherpa Kade.”
She lowered the instructions and eyed him from head to foot and back. “You’re a bit tall for a Sherpa.”
He hoped his cheeks weren’t turning red. Her attention did weird things to him. He lifted the keys for the new locks. “Where do you want these?”
“Just toss them on the counter in the kitchen.”
He did, then joined her. “What do you think?”
She set the instructional booklet on the table. “I think I should have gone to engineering school.”
He chuckled and grabbed it. “How hard can it be?” After he’d flipped through the first couple of pages of instructions, he groaned, which made her smile.
“Told you.”
“We can do this,” he said. “We’re educated adults. We went to college.”
“That’s right. I am woman. Hear me roar.”
“I am man. Hear me… whine.”
She laughed out loud. “I’ve heard you say a lot of things, but I’ve never heard you whine.”
“You’ve never seen me install a security system.” But he was kidding. The instructions were clear if complex, and within an hour, they’d made headway. He’d finished installing the sensors on the doors and was about to work on the camera when her stomach growled.
She giggled. “Excuse me.”
“Phew. I didn’t want to say anything after our huge lunch, but I’m starving.”
“Come on, then.” She led the way into the kitchen, and he stood at the counter while she searched her refrigerator. “Let’s see. I have leftovers from McNeal’s last night.” She opened the container, then shoved it back in the fridge. “Not enough for two.” She opened the crisper, then the meat drawer. “Got it.” She snatched a bunch of packages and set them on the counter beside him. “Chef salad?”
“Sounds delicious.” He’d prefer a steak, but he’d take anything as long as he could eat it across the table from her.
She beamed and snatched the leftover container out of the refrigerator again. “Chicken fingers will be a good addition.”
“What can I do?”
She scanned him from head to foot. “What can you do? You know your way around a kitchen?”
“Um, I can cut stuff.”
She grabbed two cutting boards, two knives, and a peeler and set them on the counter. “I’ll wash and tear the lettuce. You peel the cucumber and slice those cherry tomatoes.”
They got to work, shoulder to shoulder. He did what she asked, but he had to work to focus on his task. Watching her was mesmerizing. Her hands were deft. Her smile, constant. Her laugh, quick. Her wit, as sharp as the knife she used to chop the fried chicken strips.
She gasped. “Boiled eggs!”
He chuckled. “I’ve never seen someone so excited about eggs before.”
“They’ll be good. And I need to get the cheese…”
When he’d finished his tasks, he watched as she chopped ham and cubes of cheese, added some chunks of avocado—another “staple” nobody would find in his fridge—sliced the boiled eggs she just happened to have on hand. “They’re chock full of protein, you know,” she explained. And then she mixed salad dressing from scratch.
She was pulling two huge bowls from the cabinet when she said, “Why don’t you set the table. The silverware is”—she pointed with her elbow—“in there. And the napkins are in the pantry.”
He did as she asked, setting both of their computers in the living room to get them out of harm’s way. A moment later, she carried the salad and half a loaf of French bread she’d warmed in the oven to the table, and they sat for their second meal of the day together.
She reached for her fork to eat, but he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “I didn’t do this at lunch, but after everything… Do you mind if I pray?”
“Oh.” Her smile faded, but only a little. “I guess not.”
His hand was already there with hers, so it only made sense to hold it. As it slipped into his, the events of the day came back to him. “Father, thank You for protecting Ginny today. Thank You for protecting her house and her things. As we do everything we can on our end to keep her safe, please fill in our gaps. Protect her tonight in this house. Protect her from whoever broke in today and whatever is going on. Give Ginny…” He paused, swallowed, and added in his thoughts, give us… “understanding about what’s going on and wisdom to know what to do about it. Bless our food tonight. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
He squeezed her hand. When she looked at him, her eyes were wide, and a tear was making its way down her cheek.
“Hey.” He wiped it with his fingertip. The gesture was intimate and felt perfectly right. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She sniffed, and that perpetual smile returned. “Nobody’s ever prayed for me before like that. Or like…” She shook her head, swallowed again. “Or like anything, I guess. That was very sweet.”
Nobody had ever prayed for her?
She brushed her hair over one shoulder. “I mean, I go to Bible study at a friend’s house every once in a while, and they pray, but for everybody. You know?”
He held her gaze. “It was my pleasure. And I’ll keep praying for you until this is all straightened out.” And maybe longer than that.
She didn’t look away, just tilted her head to one side. “Thank you, Kade. For everything you did today. And for… for your kindness, your understanding. It means more than you can imagine.”
He’d do a million more things if that would keep her from leaving. Kathryn had told her to run, and now an intruder had broken into her house. Maybe, if he really cared about her, he’d suggest she take her sister’s advice. The problem was, if she left, then he’d never see her again. And even though he’d only spent one day with Ginny, he didn’t think he could accept that.
So the only option was to keep her safe and pray she’d stick around.
They chatted over the meal, and he worked to keep from staring at her.
Funny thing was, every time he looked at her, he found her looking at him.
Something was happening between them, and fast. Something he’d never experienced. He felt connected to her—and he liked it.
He tried to focus on his meal. The salad was cool and fresh, the fried chicken crispy, and the cheese creamy. Spicy dressing added the perfect kick to pull it all together. “It’s good.”
“It’s probably not as substantial as you’re used to. I eat a lot of salads.” She nodded toward the living room. “I saw your computer. Did you go to your house to get it?”
“I told you I wasn’t leaving.” He sipped his drink. “I keep my laptop with me most of the time.”
“Yeah?”
He sliced an oversize piece of chicken. “I got into the habit in college. I always worked, so I had limited opportunities to study. If I had five or ten minutes be
tween classes or had some extra time, I’d take advantage. I kept the habit after I graduated. There never seems to be enough time.”
“That’s smart. I’ve gotten accustomed to doing a lot on my phone.”
“I don’t like working on my phone if I can help it.” He lifted his hands. “Fat fingers. And home is too quiet.”
She set down her water glass and beamed at him. “I’m the same way. I need people around.”
“The noise of a crowd.”
“Yes.” Her eyes were bright. “The energy… There’s something about it that gets my creative juices going.”
He chuckled. “We have that in common, then.”
She stirred her salad. “I thought I was weird, you know? Because my sister was always searching for peace and quiet. And my college roommate needed silence to do anything productive. I’d sit there and chatter, and she’d shush me.”
“I get it. Maybe it’s because we’re the babies in the house. We’re used to things going on over our heads.”
Her smiled faded a little. “Everything was over my head.”
“I didn’t mean like we were too dumb to get it. Just too young.”
“I know.” She returned to her dinner, and he did the same. Then, she said, “Did you get some work done?”
“A lot. That binder is going to be priceless. I can’t thank you enough for sharing it.”
“I’m just happy to be able to do something for you after all you’ve done—”
The doorbell screeched like the nails of an angry cat running across a chalkboard. He winced at the sound. “Tell me you bought a new doorbell at the store today.”
She pushed back in her chair. “I should have added it to the list.”
“Are you expecting someone?”
“Oh. I should have told you. Do you know Rae and Brady Thomas?”
“The police chief? I’ve seen him, but I don’t know that we’ve ever met.” Kade followed Ginny to the door. “Did I miss something? Why are they here?”
“Rae called…” At the door, she reached for the handle.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Let me, just in case.”
She stepped out of the way. “Thank you, brave knight.”
He chuckled, unlocked the deadbolt, and yanked the new handle. It felt sure and solid in his hand.
On the front porch stood a tall man and a pretty woman. Kade stepped aside.
Ginny said, “Come in. Thank you guys for coming over. You really didn’t have to do this.”
The couple stopped in the foyer. “Kade, these are my friends, Rae and Brady Thomas.”
Rae had shoulder-length strawberry blond hair and green eyes. An oversize bag swung from her forearm. She stepped forward with a friendly smile and shook his hand. “Hi, Kade.”
Brady was taller than Kade, maybe six-four? And he looked enough like the quarterback whose name he sort of shared that Kade figured he’d heard enough jokes about it for a lifetime. Brady held out his hand. “Kade…?”
Kade shook it. “Kade Powers. Nice to meet you.”
Brady’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t smile. “Any relation to Darren?”
Everybody knew Darren. “He’s my brother.”
“His gas stations are always clean and well maintained.”
Rae bumped her husband with her hip. “He’s a gas station connoisseur.”
Brady smirked at her. “It’s always good to know where there’s a clean bathroom when you spend as much time as I do in the car.”
Kade updated Brady on what his older siblings were doing while Ginny led the way to the living room.
Rae peeked into the dining room before she sat on the sofa. “We interrupted your dinner.”
“We got started late,” Ginny said, “and we’re about done, anyway. Have a seat, Brady.”
He sat beside his wife, and Kade and Ginny took the two club chairs.
Kade still didn’t know why Brady and Rae were there. When he caught Ginny’s eye, she answered his unspoken question. “I asked what kind of a handgun I should buy.”
“You decided to do it?” Kade asked. “Good for you.”
Ginny shrugged. “If I’m going to stay in my house, then I need to protect it.”
“Wherever you go,” Kade said, “you need to protect yourself.”
“That, too.” She turned to Brady. “You guys didn’t have to come over, though. I really did plan to buy one.”
“I read the police report.” Brady had a no-nonsense air about him that Kade appreciated. “And you’re wise to get a firearm. What happened here today is not normal. People don’t break into houses and search them for fun. And from what the report said, it seemed the intruder worked hard to replace everything so you wouldn’t know he’d been here.”
That was true. Kade hadn’t articulated that, but now that Brady had, he realized it was one of the things that had struck him as odd. As sinister.
“Are you sure you have no idea what he was looking for?” Brady asked.
She shook her head, but her eye contact slipped, and her gaze bounced around the room before it found the chief again. “Nope.”
He narrowed his gaze and said nothing. The man was perceptive.
Rae looked like she was about to speak, but without taking his eyes from Ginny, Brady quieted her with a hand on her leg. “The thing is, Ginny, I don’t think I believe you.”
“Brady!” Rae’s voice was indignant. She turned to Ginny. “I’m sorry. My husband can be—”
“Honest,” Brady said. “I’m being honest, because you’re a friend, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” He sat back in the sofa. He was trim and fit and seemed to envelop the space. “I don’t suspect you of anything, Ginny, except maybe withholding information we need to keep you safe.”
She swallowed, and her gaze flicked from Brady to Rae to Kade and back. “I really don’t know anything.”
“That you’re willing to share with us right now.” Brady let the words hang in the air. He didn’t speak, and when Rae looked like she might, he tapped her leg. Secret married-couple sign language.
Kade wasn’t going to break the silence, either. Ginny was holding out on them. They needed to know everything if they were going to keep her safe.
Though tension rolled off Ginny in waves, she said nothing.
Impressive in her determination to keep her secrets to herself. Impressive and irritating all at once.
Finally, Brady leaned forward. “If anything changes, if you feel like you need help or more protection, or if you decide to tell us more, please don’t hesitate. If you’ve done something illegal—”
“She hasn’t.” Kade hadn’t meant to speak, but the words were out there now.
Brady turned to him. “You know what’s going on?”
“Not really, but I’m just saying…”
Brady’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re saying you trust her? Or you’re saying you know enough to know she hasn’t done anything illegal.”
“Both.” Kade made the word sure and strong. “I trust her, and she hasn’t done anything illegal.”
After a moment, Brady nodded. “Fair enough.” He turned to Ginny again. “I’m here if you want to talk. Or you can talk to any of my men. We might be a small town, but we have our share of crime and”—he cut his gaze to his wife’s—“strange situations. Let’s just say we’ve had a lot of experience.”
Rae’s head bobbed. “That’s true. And you can trust Brady and the police. They’re going to do everything in their power to make sure you’re safe. But they can’t help you if you don’t tell them the truth.”
Ginny swallowed, and a beat passed before she said, “If I think of anything…”
After a long moment of watching her, waiting, Kade assumed, for her to share something else, Brady turned to Rae. “Go ahead.”
She reached in her huge bag and pulled out a pistol. She checked to make sure it wasn’t loaded, then pointed it toward the floor an
d handed it to Ginny.
Ginny accepted the weapon silently. “Is it loaded?”
“No magazine,” Rae said, “no bullet in the chamber.” She reached back into her purse and pulled out the magazine and a box of ammunition and set them on the coffee table.
Ginny smiled. “I only know what you mean because I watch TV.”
Brady was eyeing her through narrowed eyes. “You know how to shoot it?”
“Haven’t the slightest idea.” She held the handle between her thumb and forefinger. It dangled toward the floor. “I’ve never even held a gun before.”
“That’s obvious.” Kade stood and pulled her to her feet. He shifted her so that the barrel was pointed toward the wall and positioned her right hand as it should be.
Her grip was tight as a stretched rubber band. “Relax. It’s not going to explode.”
She giggled and tried to comply, but he could feel her stress.
“You want your hand as high on the handle as you can get it. Scoot it close to the tang.”
She moved her hand up the gun. “Tang is delicious. We drank it all the time as kids.”
He stifled a chuckle. “I’m glad to see you’re taking this seriously.”
“You’re the one making up words.”
When he had her right hand positioned properly, her pointer finger straight on the side, he positioned her left hand across the other side. It was awkward, though, so he wrapped his arm around her back and worked with her left hand in his. “You want as much skin on the gun as you can get. That keeps it secure. Here, wrap these fingers over those…” When she got her hands right, he said, “There you go. That’s it.”
He caught Brady’s half-smile across the room and realized how close he and Ginny were. Her back was pressed against his front. Her hair, carrying the faint scent of apples, tickled his lips. Funny how well she fit. Heat radiated through him, a heightened awareness of the woman in his arms—and the two people watching. He stepped back and swallowed. “Anyway, we can practice another time.”
She pointed the gun at the floor and looked at him, her cheeks pink. “I guess.”
She sat, and he did, too, considerably warmer than he’d been a moment before.
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