A Brambleberry Summer

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “Oh, yes,” Jen said softly. “Ryan was wonderful. After he died, I never thought I would find anyone again.”

  She plucked harder at the rose bush. “I wish I hadn’t ever entertained the idea of dating again. I obviously don’t pick well.”

  Rosa frowned. “You did well with your husband. Nothing else that happened to you is your fault. I wish I could help you see that. You had no way of knowing things would turn out like they have.”

  “That’s what I tell myself,” Jen said quietly. “Most of the time I believe it. In the middle of the night when I think about everything, it’s harder to convince myself.”

  “You did nothing wrong,” Rosa repeated in a low voice so that Addie didn’t overhear. “You went on three dates with this man then tried to stop dating him when you began to see warning signs. You had no way of knowing he would become obsessive.”

  Jen sighed. “I still wish I could go back and do everything over again. I wish I had said no the very first time he asked me out.”

  “I know. I am sorry.”

  Rosa became angry all over again every time she thought about how one man’s arrogance and refusal to accept rejection had forced Jen to flee her life and live in fear.

  She was so glad her friend seemed to be trying to put the past behind her and make plans for the future.

  “And while I don’t think I am the best judge of character right now and don’t seem to pick well for myself, I do like Detective Townsend. He seems very kind and he is a wonderful father.”

  Rosa could not disagree. She felt a little ache in her heart at the reminder that she and Wyatt could not be together. Soon, he and his son would be moving out of Brambleberry House.

  “He is a good man and, I think, cares very much about helping people.”

  She paused, compelled to press the situation. “He would help you, you know. You should tell him what is going on.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “I do. Wyatt is a man you can trust. While he is living here, he can look around for anything unusual. Like having security on site.”

  “I suppose it is a little like that.”

  Rosa nodded. “That is one of the reasons I agreed to let him move in. I was worried about you and thought it might make you more comfortable to know he is only downstairs.”

  Jen gave her a sidelong look. “You mean it wasn’t because of those beautiful blue eyes?” she teased.

  Rosa flushed and tried to pretend she was inordinately fascinated with clipping back a climbing vine. “Does he have blue eyes? I do not believe I had noticed.”

  Jen snorted a little, which made Rosa smile. She was happy to be a subject of teasing if it could bring a smile to Jen’s face.

  “You said you’re not interested in dating. Why is that?”

  “I date,” Rosa protested. “I went out three weeks ago to a concert down in Lincoln City.”

  “With a seventy-five-year-old widower who had an extra ticket.”

  “Mr. Harris is very sweet. And also lonely, since he lost his wife.”

  “You know you don’t have to take care of everyone else in town. You should save a little of your energy for going after what you want.”

  If only it could be that easy. She knew what she wanted. She also knew she could not have it.

  She didn’t have a chance to answer before a vehicle pulled into the driveway. She stood up, suddenly breathless when she recognized Wyatt’s SUV. She had not seen him since that emotional, passionate kiss the night before and wasn’t sure how to act around him.

  He climbed out, and a moment later opened the back door for his son, who hopped out and raced over to them.

  “Logan! Hi, Logan!” Addie made a beeline for the boy, who waved at her.

  “Hi, Addie. Your hands are muddy.”

  “I’m picking flowers. Rosa said I could, to help the other flowers grow better.”

  “Remember, you should only pick the flowers when a grown-up tells you it’s okay,” Jen said.

  She looked momentarily worried, as if afraid Addie would wander through the entire beautiful gardens of the house pulling up the flowers willy-nilly.

  “I want to help pick flowers. Can I?” Logan asked Rosa.

  “You will have to ask your father if he does not mind.”

  The father in question drew nearer and she felt tension and awareness stretch between them. He gave her a wary smile, as if he didn’t quite know how to act this evening, either. Seeing his unease helped her relax a little.

  Yes, they had shared an intense, emotional kiss. That didn’t mean things had to be awkward between them.

  “Can I pick flowers?” Logan asked Wyatt. “Rosa said it’s okay.”

  “We are taking away the dead and dying flowers to make room for new growth,” she told him.

  “I want to help, too,” Logan said.

  “Fine with me. As long as you do what Rosa says.”

  “Not a bad philosophy for life in general,” Jen said, which made Rosa roll her eyes. She wasn’t handling her own life so perfectly right now. Not when she was in danger of making a fool of herself over Wyatt.

  “Is there something I can do to help?” Wyatt asked. “Were you trying to hang this bird feeder?”

  She followed his gaze to the feeder she had left near the sidewalk.

  “Yes. It fell down during the wind we had the other night. I was going to get the ladder and hang it back up.”

  “That would be a good job for Logan and me. Let me put our groceries away and I’ll be right back out to do that for you.”

  “I’m sure you have enough to do at your house. You don’t need to help me with my chores.”

  “Hanging a birdhouse is the least I can do after you pinch-hit for me last night with Logan.”

  To Rosa’s dismay, she felt her face heat again. Oh, she was grateful her blushes were not very noticeable. She felt as red as those roses.

  She couldn’t seem to help it, especially when all she could think about was being in his arms the night before, his mouth on hers, and the way he had clung to her.

  Something seemed to have shifted between them, as if they had crossed some sort of emotional line.

  She, Jen and the children continued clearing out the flower garden and moved to another one outside the bay window of Logan’s room.

  A few moments later, Wyatt came out of the house. He had changed out of his work slacks, jacket and tie into jeans and a T-shirt that seemed to highlight his strong chest and broad shoulders.

  “Is the ladder in the shed?” he asked.

  “Yes. It should be open.”

  “Come help me, Logan. You, too, Addie. This might be a job for three of us.”

  She watched them go to the shed and a moment later Wyatt emerged carrying the ladder mostly by himself, with each of the children holding tightly to it as if they were actually bearing some of the weight, which she knew they were not.

  “He’s really great with kids,” Jen murmured.

  Maybe so. That didn’t make him great for Rosa.

  It did not take him long to rehang the birdhouse in the tree she pointed out. While she would have liked to hang it higher up on the tree, on a more stable branch, she knew she would not be able to refill the feeder easily without pulling out a ladder each time.

  After Wyatt and his little crew returned the ladder to the shed, they came back out and she set them to work helping her clear out the rest of the weeds and dead blossoms in the garden.

  Her back was beginning to ache from the repetitive motion, but Rosa would not have traded this moment for anything. There was something so peaceful in working together on a summer evening with the air sweet from the scent of flowers and the sun beginning to slide into the ocean.

  “So how did you two meet?” Wyatt asked them.

  “C
ollege,” Jen replied promptly. “We were assigned as roommates our very first day and became best friends after that.”

  Both of them had been apprehensive first-year college students. Rosa had been quite certain she was in over her head. She had only been speaking English for three years. She hadn’t known how she would make it through college classes. But Jen had instantly taken her under her wing with kindness and support.

  She owed her a huge debt that she knew she could never repay.

  “Here you are, living as roommates again, of a sort,” Wyatt said casually.

  “Yes,” Jen answered. “Isn’t it funny how life works sometimes? I was looking for a change and Rosa had an empty apartment. It worked out for both of us.”

  Wyatt looked at the children, now playing happily on the tree swing. “What about Addie’s father? Is he in the picture?”

  Jen gazed down at the flowers, grief washing across her features. “Unfortunately, no. He died two years ago of cancer. Melanoma.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wyatt said gently.

  He knew what it was to lose someone, too, Rosa thought. In fact, the two of them would be perfect for each other. So why did the idea of them together make her heart hurt?

  Jen sighed and rose to face him. “I might as well tell you, Jen Ryan is not really my name.”

  Rosa held her breath, shocked that her friend had blurted the truth out of nowhere like that. She could tell Wyatt was shocked, as well, though he did his best to hide it.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Well, it’s not wholly a lie. My name is Jenna Michelle Haynes. Ryan was my late husband’s name.”

  He studied her. “Are you using his name for your surname now as some kind of homage?”

  “No.” She looked at Rosa as if asking for help, then straightened her shoulders and faced Wyatt. Rosa could see her hands clenching and unclenching with nerves. “Actually, if you want the truth, I’m hiding from a man.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Wyatt stared, shocked that she had told him, though not really by what she said.

  He had suspected as much, judging by her nervous behavior and the way Rosa was so protective of her. He just didn’t know the details.

  He suddenly felt as protective of her as Rosa did. Who would want to hurt this fragile woman and her darling little girl?

  He immediately went into police mode. “Who is he? Can you tell me? And what did he do to make you so afraid?”

  She sighed and looked at the children, who were laughing in the fading sunshine as Logan pushed Addie on the swings. The scene seemed innocent and sweet, completely incongruous to anything ugly and terrifying.

  She swallowed hard and couldn’t seem to find the words until Rosa moved closer, placing a supportive arm through hers. Jen gave her a look of gratitude before facing him again.

  “His name is Aaron Barker. He’s also a police officer in the small Utah town where I was living after my husband died. He... We went out three times. Three dates. That’s all.”

  Rosa squeezed her arm and Jen gripped her hand. One of the hardest parts of his job was making people relive their worst moments. It never seemed to get easier. He didn’t want to make her rehash all the details, but he couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what had happened.

  She seemed to sense that because after a moment, she went on. “Aaron was very nice at first. Showering me with affection, gifts, food. Sending flowers to the school where I taught. I was flattered. I was lonely and—and I liked him. But then he started pushing me too hard, already talking about marriage. After three dates.”

  She shook her head. “I finally had to tell him he was moving too fast for me and that I didn’t think I was ready to start dating again.”

  Her voice seemed to trail off and she shivered a little, though the evening was warm. He didn’t like the direction this story was taking. It had to be grim to send her fleeing from her home to Oregon.

  “What happened?”

  “He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He kept asking me out, kept bringing me gifts. I finally had to be firm and tell him we weren’t a good match and I wasn’t going to change my mind. I thought he understood, but then he started driving past in his squad car at all hours of the day and night. He kept calling and texting, sometimes dozens of times a day. I had to turn my phone off. I went out to dinner one day with another teacher, a coworker and friend who happens to be a man. Nothing romantic, just friends, but that night Aaron sent me a long, vitriolic email, calling me a whore, saying if he couldn’t have me, no one could, and all kinds of other terrifying things. I knew he must have been watching me.”

  “Why didn’t you report him to the police?”

  “I tried but this was a small town. The police chief was his uncle, who wouldn’t listen to me. He wouldn’t even take my complaint. I tried to go to the county sheriff’s department but they said it was a personnel issue for our town’s police department. I think they just didn’t want to bother and didn’t want to upset Aaron’s uncle.”

  Again, Wyatt had to fight down his anger. He knew how insular small-town police departments and their surrounding jurisdictions sometimes could be. Often, police officers for one agency didn’t want to get other agency police officers in trouble.

  He had also been involved in stalking investigations and knew just how difficult the perpetrators could be to prosecute. Most laws were weak and ineffective, leaving the victim virtually powerless to stop what could be years of torture.

  “This went on for months,” Jen said. “I can’t explain how emotionally draining it was to be always afraid.”

  Rosa made a small sound, her features distressed. He sensed she was upset for her friend but had to wonder if there was something else behind her reaction. Why wouldn’t she tell him her secrets, like Jen was finally doing?

  “I understand,” Wyatt said quietly. “I have worked these kinds of cases before. I know how tough they can be on the victims.”

  “Aaron was relentless. Completely relentless. I changed my number, my email, closed down my social-media accounts, but he would find a new way to reach me. He...started making threats. Veiled at first and then more overt. When he mentioned Addie in one of his messages, I quit my teaching job and moved closer to my sister, about an hour away, but the night after I moved, my tires were slashed. Somehow he found me anyway.”

  So things had taken an even uglier turn. Wyatt wasn’t surprised.

  “How did you end up here?”

  “Rosa happened to reach out to me out of the blue, right in the middle of everything. We hadn’t talked in a while and she was just checking up on me. Calling to wish me a happy birthday. I didn’t want to tell her, but everything just gushed out and I finally told her everything that had been going on.”

  She squeezed Rosa’s arm. “I don’t know what I would have done without her. I was telling her that tonight. She invited me to come stay with her here for a while. She offered me a job and an apartment. It seemed perfect, and honestly, I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “I only wish I had known earlier what was happening to you,” Rosa said, looking guilty. “I should have called you sooner.”

  “Don’t ever think that. You reached out right when I was at my lowest point and offered me a chance to escape.”

  Jen turned back to Wyatt. “I packed up what we had and drove as far as Boise. Maybe I watch too much Dateline, but I traded my car on the spot at a used-car lot, in case Aaron had put some kind of tracker on my vehicle, then I drove here.”

  “That was smart.”

  “I don’t know about that. I had a nice little late-model SUV with four-wheel drive that was great for the Utah winters. Now I’ve got a junker. It was probably the best swap the dealer ever made. But it got us here to Brambleberry House, where I have felt safe for the first time in months.”

  “I am so glad,” Rosa said.
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  “I can’t tell you how nice it has been not to constantly look over my shoulder.”

  “Do you think he’s given up?” Wyatt hated to ask but didn’t have a choice.

  Her expression twisted with distress. “I want to think so. I hope so. But I don’t know. I don’t know how to find out without possibly revealing my new location.”

  “He was obsessed,” Rosa said, placing a protective arm around her friend. “Jenna is only telling you a small portion of the things this man has done to her.”

  Wyatt hoped the man had given up, though he worried that by fleeing, she had only stoked his unhealthy obsession.

  Moving several states away might not be enough to escape a determined stalker, especially not one with law-enforcement experience.

  “Thank you for telling me this. I know it wasn’t easy, but you’ve done the right thing. I’ll do what I can to help you. You said his name is Aaron Barker?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you have a picture or description?”

  “Yes. I can email you a picture and also link you to his social media.”

  “Texting me is better. He might have hacked into your email.”

  “He’s done that before but I changed my account and password.”

  That might not be the deterrent she hoped. Someone determined enough could find ways around just about anything.

  “Once you get me a picture of him and a description, I’ll pass it around to other officers in the local PD and sheriff’s department so we can be on the lookout. You’re in Cannon Beach now and we take care of our own.”

  “Thank you.” Jen looked overwhelmed to have someone else on her side. He understood. Victims of stalking could feel so isolated and alone, certain no one else would understand or even believe them and that their ordeal would never end.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He glanced at Rosa and found her looking at him with such warmth and approval that he couldn’t seem to look away.

  Addie came running over, with Logan close behind.

  “Mommy,” she said, tugging on Jen’s shirt, “I have to go to the bathroom.”