Love And Honor: A Time Travel Romance

by M. S. Parker

  With my permission, Henley hired a team of private investigators to ensure there wasn’t any truth to their claims, but that would take time. At least it was something I didn’t have to worry about. Allen had been faithful during the time we’d been together and he’d ’always been careful about birth control. If he’d ever used a sperm bank, he would’ve told me. It was just another ploy, and after what Jasper had said about why Allen had bought the vineyard, I wasn’t about to let the Lockwoods have it.

  Being back at the school was fine when the building was empty, but when the others started to come around, it was awkward for a while. Gina and I were fine since we’d talked since Allen had died, but the others had made an appearance at the funeral and that had been it. If they hadn't know what to say to me before, it was even worse now. Once they made the obligatory inquiries about my state of being and expressed the necessary sympathies again, however, things went back to normal. Basically, they ignored me and I ignored them. I preferred it that way now. I'd never been an overly social person, but I found I had less patience for acquaintances going out of their way to talk to me than I had in the past. It might've been petty of me, but I just didn't have enough strength to spread around.

  I had to admit, I was more nervous on the first day of school than I had been since the first time I’d been in a classroom on my own. I told myself that I was able to handle a room full of second graders again, that I had my emotions under control, but there really wasn’t any way for me to know for sure until I was actually there.

  When I walked into the classroom and saw how normal everything looked, the feeling was beyond surreal. This was my fourth year doing this. My fourth year setting up a classroom, preparing to meet my students. It was normal. The most normal thing I’d experienced since the accident. Only now, for me, normal was surreal.

  The kids came in together as the bus emptied, and I knew there’d be one or two stragglers whose parents would be bringing them, but it was time to see if I could do this. The moment I saw them looking up at me, some expectantly, some in fear, nearly all with wide eyes, I knew I could. They trusted me. Still at that age where they relied on adults, believed that we held all the answers, they needed me.

  Being needed was what did it.

  “Good morning,” I said in my best teacher voice. Clear, loud enough to be heard, but not patronizing. “Each of you has a cubby with your name on it.”

  I went through the usual first morning speech, the same words I’d said last year, back when my life had made sense. Saying them again didn’t make the world better again. It didn’t bring Allen back or give me some sort of miracle solution about his parents. It did, however, make me feel like I could live again. Right now, it was for those twenty-two faces staring up at me, but it was enough. Enough to get me out of bed the next day. And the next.

  By the end of the first week, I had a routine and that meant I didn’t really have to think about anything other than grading papers and basic house maintenance. Jacques assured me that things with the vineyard were going well and that I had a couple weeks before we needed to worry about harvesting. By the time I was ready to learn that part of the business, I’d be ready for a bit of a break in the routine.

  Life wasn’t good, exactly, but it was at least bearable now.

  Mitchell seemed pleased at how well I was doing. Henley was handling things.

  But as August ended and September began, there was one nagging thing missing.

  When I returned home from school the first Monday in September, Jasper was waiting at my door.

  “Shae.” His voice was soft as he pushed himself away from the doorframe.

  “Jasper.” My heart thudded loudly. I didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m sorry.” He met my eyes, but I couldn’t read anything in his. “I’m not going to try to offer an explanation, but I will say again that I’m sorry. It won’t happen again and I hope we can continue to be friends.”

  There was an almost rehearsed quality to what he was saying, but I didn’t doubt the sincerity of any of it. The relief I felt was stronger than I’d anticipated, but I didn’t try to push it away. I’d missed my friend, my connection with Allen. I stepped around the car.

  “Of course. It’s forgotten.”

  He gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Friends again, then?”

  I smiled back and gestured towards the house. “I’ve got some leftovers I was going to reheat for dinner. Not quite used to cooking for just one yet.” The smile faltered a bit, but I managed to keep it. “Help me finish it?”

  He gave me a strange look, then nodded and followed me into the house.

  Chapter 18

  I’d never been one to sleep late, not even on weekends, but after the last few weeks of stress and all that came with it, my body must’ve decided that I needed the sleep, because that Saturday, I didn’t get up at my usual time. I might’ve slept even later if I hadn’t heard someone shouting outside my bedroom window. And not just one someone, but several someone’s.

  It took a minute or two, but then my sleepy brain registered what they were shouting and I bolted out of bed, immediately awake.

  Fire.

  I ran out of the bedroom and through the kitchen to the side door closest to the vineyard. I was wearing only a camisole and a pair of boy-shorts, but that didn’t matter. All I could think about was losing the home Allen and I had built together. As soon as the heat hit me, I skidded to a stop, the dirt beneath my feet burning my soles. It wasn’t exactly cool for September, but this was stifling heat, thick with smoke that made me cough as soon as I took a breath.

  I barely registered any of that. I was consumed with the red-orange flames licking their way across the grapevines. The end of summer had been dry and the fire raced across the leaves and vines, withering and popping grapes as it went. There was no wind, a blessing, but it didn’t change the fact that fire was hungry and it didn’t stop until there was nothing more to consume.

  “Miss Shae, please, go back into the house!”

  I snapped my head around and saw Jacques running past. He had a wet cloth tied around his nose and mouth, another hanging from a bucket.

  I saw the others now, the employees who always started around this time of year for this exact reason. Fire was always a threat, and while I didn’t doubt someone had pulled the alarm, we couldn’t wait for the fire department to arrive, not if we wanted to save the crop.

  It was the thought of losing what Allen had worked so hard to build that jarred me out of my shock. I might not have been involved in the day-to-day running of the vineyard, but I knew what to do in the case of various emergencies like frost...and fire.

  I ran for the side of the house where I knew there would be buckets being filled by one of the employees. Sure enough, a skinny kid whose name I couldn’t remember was there, filling buckets and tossing rags into them. I was pretty sure he was Jacques’ nephew, but I didn’t stop to ask him. As he stared at me, I grabbed one of the smaller buckets and started back towards the fire.

  I heard voices yelling at me to get back to the house as I passed the vines that were already blackened and dead. I went past the biggest flames as well, remembering what Allen had told me. The biggest danger of fire at a place like this was that if we didn’t get ahead of it, we’d only be able to put it out eventually, not stop it. With the fire department a minimum of fifteen minutes away, we didn’t need to worry as much about putting out what was already burning as stopping it from spreading.

  Jacques barked orders at a pair of younger men, pointing as he instructed them to cut through and tear up a few feet of unburnt vines. He gave me an exasperated look as I joined the two men who were draping wet rags across the nearby vines and dumping buckets of water onto the cloth and the vines. If we could keep the fire from jumping to other vines until the fire department arrived, the loss would most likely be sustainable.

  I didn’t try to run back and forth, instead taking the buckets as the men cam
e up with them and focusing on keeping my side of the fire-line wet. I knew there were others on the opposite side as well as people in front of it. We had less than a dozen employees from August to harvest, but they were all experienced and hard workers. Even as I worked, I made a mental note to discuss bonuses with Jacques.

  The roar of the fire at my back made it hard to hear, but the sound of sirens slowly began to penetrate and I almost cried. I didn’t stop until I saw the men in their suits, their hoses pointed towards the flames behind me. Only then did I follow the others out of the way, shivering as droplets of cold water came in contact with my blistering skin.

  Everyone was too tired to talk as we trudged back up towards the house, letting the firemen do their thing. We’d done our part and now it was time for them to do theirs. Once they were finished, we could assess the damage and move on. I slowed my steps until Jacques caught up to me and then matched mine to his. As we stepped onto open land, I looked over at him.

  “We’ll need an official police report for the insurance,” I said. My voice was little more than a croak. I coughed, spit up a gob of black-looking shit, and then tried again. “Once everyone’s made their statements, send them home. At least two days off with pay.”

  “Mrs. Lockwood.”

  The fact that he used that title told me whatever was coming next was going to be serious.

  “We need people to watch the fields tonight.”

  “To make sure no sparks linger?” I saw a pair of squad cars parked next to an ambulance.

  “No.” He stopped and I did the same. “I don’t believe this was an accident.”

  Chapter 19

  While I waited my turn with the cops, I headed into the house to make a call. I trusted the St. Helena paramedics, but there was only one ambulance and two paramedics, the rest having been called away on a bad traffic accident on the other side of the city. I wasn’t about to risk my people’s health and he was the best doctor I knew. He was working today, so I didn’t bother with his cell phone and called straight to the office.

  “Dr. Whitehall’s Office.” A cheery female voice answered. “How may I help you?”

  “I need to speak to Jasper, please.” I suddenly realized that this was the first time I’d called him at work.

  “May I ask who’s calling?” The friendly voice became frosty.

  I wondered if it had been my use of his first name, but I didn’t apologize. “My name’s Shae Lockwood and I’m a friend of his. I need to speak with him.”

  “He’s busy right now, Mrs. Lockwood.”

  Now I knew I wasn’t imagining the tone. For some reason, she didn’t like me. If this had been some sort of social call, I might’ve apologized for calling him at work and just left a message. At the moment, however, I was strung too tight to be polite.

  “There’s been a fire at my place and I need to speak with him right away. I’d prefer not to have to use his private number.”

  There was silence for a moment and I wondered if she was weighing her options. When she spoke again, the edge to her voice had sharpened. “Very well, Mrs. Lockwood. I’ll let him know you’re on the line.”

  I half-expected her to ‘accidentally’ hang up on me, but then I heard the usual hold music and waited. Less than two minutes later, he was there.

  “Shae, are you okay? Georgia said there was a fire or something?”

  I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “It’s a long story and no one seems hurt, but they only have two paramedics here.”

  He didn’t even wait for me to ask the question. “I’m on my way.”

  “Mrs. Lockwood.”

  I turned around to find my two favorite detectives standing behind me. The look Detective Reed gave me made me look down at myself and suddenly realize that I wasn’t dressed in the most appropriate attire. I also absently noted that I’d left footprints of soot and blood on my otherwise clean kitchen floor.

  “Detectives.” I gave them a hard smile and tried not to feel self-conscious about the way my shirt was clinging to me or just how much leg I was exposing with my tight shorts.

  I reached over and opened the refrigerator door. I grabbed several bottles of water as I took a slow breath, and by the time I closed the door, I was composed again.

  “If you don’t mind,” I said. “I’d prefer to give my statement outside.”

  “Then why did you come in?” Detective Reed asked.

  I looked down at the water bottles. “You’d be surprised at all of the shit that gets in your mouth when you’re fighting a fire without gear.” I started to walk. “Those are my people out there.”

  “Who were you on the phone with, Mrs. Lockwood?” Detective Rheingard spoke at last.

  “Dr. Whitehall,” I answered as I stepped back outside. “Jasper Whitehall, specifically. He works with his father in St. Helena. With only two paramedics here, I thought it might be a good idea to have someone else with medical expertise to come check people out.”

  Neither one said anything to that, but they followed me as I went to each of my employees and handed them a bottle of water. When I finished, I turned back to them. The adrenaline I’d had coursing through me was starting to wear off and I was becoming aware of aches in my muscles and pain in my feet. I could also feel the cold clamminess of my wet clothes sticking to me and smell the stench of smoke and sweat.

  At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to shower off all this shit, then soak in a hot bath for a year. Instead, I crossed my arms and reminded myself of what Jacques had said, that this hadn’t been an accident.

  “Tell us what happened, Mrs. Lockwood,” Detective Rheingard said, already in his role as good cop.

  Did they discuss which one was going to be the bad cop or were their personalities such that they just fell into the roles naturally, I wondered. No matter. My story wasn’t going to change no matter which one I talked to. One of the best things about telling the truth.

  “I was asleep,” I began. “And I heard people outside shouting. When I heard the word ‘fire,' I ran out. I saw that one of the rows was on fire so I ran around the house, grabbed a bucket and went that way.” I pointed. “I stayed there, helping my employees until the fire department came.”

  “So you didn’t see what started the fire?” Detective Rheingard asked.

  “No.” I looked around, spotted Jacques and motioned to him. “My foreman, Jacques Rohner, told me as we were coming back up here, that he didn’t believe it had been an accident, but that was all he said.”

  Detective Reed gave me another full-body look. “You were sleeping when it started?”

  I looked down at my clothes and then back up. My patience dried up the moment I saw the lecherous expression in the detective's eyes. “No, Detective, I decided to throw on my pajamas and run outside barefoot to fight a fire.”

  Detective Reed’s eyes narrowed. “Were you sleeping alone?”

  My arms went to my sides as my hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. How had an arson investigation turned into an interrogation of my sex life? “Yes. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been sleeping alone since my husband died.”

  He smirked. “Just seems like it might get a little lonely out here. Besides, we’ve heard reports about a blond man, about thirty, coming around a couple times since Mr. Lockwood’s passing.”

  “Reports.” I tried to take a deep breath and ended up coughing. Detective Reed looked bored, but Rheingard at least had the decency to seem concerned. “First of all, that’s my brother, Mitchell, and , second, you assholes already knew that.”

  Reed’s face turned an interesting shade of puce.

  “Secondly, you have no right to be watching my house in the first place. And if you’re not watching me, that means you’re getting your information somewhere else. Maybe the Lockwoods.”

  Rheingard’s gaze shifted slightly and I knew I was right.

  “Yes, my brother has been here quite a bit since Allen died. My friend, Gina, a
nd her girlfriend, Junie, have come by too. So has Jasper Whitehall. Again, not that any of that is your business. Unless you’re implying that I started a fire on my own vineyard and it has something to do with whether or not I’m sleeping with someone, I think you’re out of line.” I straightened my shoulders and glared at them both. “So unless you have some relevant questions for me, I believe we’re done here.”

  “Do you have insurance on your property, Mrs. Lockwood?” Rheingard asked.

  As much as I resented the implication, at least it was one that made some sense. “Yes,” I said. “And I’ll be requesting a copy of the police report so that I can file it with the company.”

  “How are your finances?” he continued.

  “Fine,” I said. “Both the business and personal accounts are doing well. I don’t need the insurance money for anything.”

  “So the Lockwoods haven’t had your accounts frozen?” Reed butted in.

  “My late husband’s trust is frozen, but the rest isn’t.” I waved away the paramedic who started to come towards me and gestured towards one of my employees who hadn’t been seen yet. “I’ll give you permission to speak to my accountant to confirm that I have no financial motive to do this.”

  “Maybe a personal one, then?” Reed asked. “Your in-laws want the vineyard. Maybe you figured if you couldn’t have it, no one could.”