Jared

by Lori Wilde

  She sighed. They’d been over this a thousand times since the elevator incident two weeks ago, but he refused to see the situation for what it was.

  “The maintenance man said it was a simple malfunction. Once he isolated the problem, he had it fixed in a matter of minutes.”

  “A simple malfunction.” He snorted. “And you could have been simply dead.”

  “But I’m not dead.” She touched his arm. “And I have you to thank for that.”

  Jerry dumped the last of the cement into the mold and walked over to the new park bench they had placed there earlier that evening.

  He sat down on the new lawn furniture and crossed an ankle over his knee. Now that his cast had been taken off, he didn’t even show a hint of a limp. Except for not remembering anything before the accident, he showed no signs of his former injuries.

  Kimber held a brief mental debate about whether she wanted him to recover completely or to remain as he was now: sweet, gentle, funny, and without a trace of his former memories and personality. She was ashamed of her selfishness.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he said morosely. “I have a feeling there’s going to be a next time.”

  “Well, aren’t you the harbinger of gloom.” She sat down on the bench beside him. “Usually, you’re more upbeat company than this.”

  He’d certainly been the life of the party at the nursing home when they visited Aunt Rowena last weekend. He’d entertained them all by tossing butterscotch candies into the air and catching them in his mouth, telling jokes, and teaching her and the elderly folks an odd game in which they dealt feathers rather than playing cards. Kimber had never heard so much laughter or seen the residents so active in all her previous visits.

  He ignored her not-so-subtle hint to lighten up. As he turned toward her, a frown marred his handsome face. “This farmhouse is old, and the wiring needs to be replaced. What if a fire is set and I’m not here to protect you?”

  “Chill, Jerry. No one’s going to set a fire. And even if there was a fire, the smoke detectors would warn me in plenty of time. As I recall, you installed one in each room, just to be sure.” She chuckled as an irony occurred to her. “Besides, I worried more about the house burning down when you were here cooking. With you out of here and in your own condo, I should be safe.”

  A long silence passed between them. Good grief, he was making her feel guilty, and she hadn’t even done anything wrong.

  “Would it make you feel better if I hired an electrician to rewire the house?”

  He shrugged. “It would help.”

  A female wood duck ambled over and checked the ground for anything edible. Ever the softy, Jerry reached for the heels of bread he’d brought for just this purpose. He handed one to Kimber, and together they tossed crumbs to the feathered crowd that gathered around them. Even Lazarus, who had healed from the wounds inflicted by the neighbor’s dog, showed up for the handout. The goose accepted Kimber’s tossed offerings but wouldn’t come close. With Jerry, however, it ate out of his hand.

  Jerry leaned forward to entice a shy duck that had missed out on bread crusts to its faster and more aggressive counterparts. Surprisingly, the timid creature waddled forward and grabbed for the treat.

  Jerry sat beside Kimber, and the sun once again threw a golden cast about his head. She decided then that she ought to either get her eyes checked for glaucoma or start using his brand of shampoo.

  When the crumbs were gone, he set both feet on the ground and rested his elbows on his blue-jeaned knees. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about that other woman coming between you and...Gerald.”

  He paused for such a long time that Kimber began to think his mind had drifted to another topic. It was probably just as well, since she wasn’t in a mood to hear excuses.

  “There’s no excuse for cheating.”

  At first, she thought she’d misunderstood what he said. Then, when she realized she’d heard correctly, she experienced a moment of hopefulness...that Jerry now remembered the affair and was remorseful and, better, that he truly had changed his ways.

  But talk was cheap. “Right,” she said with a hollow laugh. “This, coming from the man who cheated on his own aunt in that finky feather game.”

  “Fenuki,” he corrected.

  “No harm done,” he’d said with a mischievous grin when she confronted him about it later. He was just “bending the rules.”

  “Just like you cheated during our engagement.”

  “That wasn’t me,” he said, standing and pacing in front of her. “I’m not Gerald, and I never have been.”

  “If you’re suggesting we start over, you can forget it. As soon as you get your memory back, you’ll forget we ever had this conversation, and you’ll go back to your old ways.” Suddenly, the little park by the lake lost its magic for dissolving stress. Kimber folded her arms over her chest.

  Jerry stopped his pacing. “Is that what you think?”

  She nodded. What else could she think?

  He reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet. Without letting go, he forced her to face him as he continued. “Kimber, there is no more Gerald. He’s gone.” He made a sweeping motion toward the sky. Then, gently, “Gerald is dead, honey. What you see before you is exactly what I am. And this is exactly the way I’m going to stay, for as long as I’m on this earth.”

  She pursed her lips. “How do I know that? How do I know the old Gerald won’t come back tomorrow, or the day after that, or the month after that?”

  He was sincere, no doubt about it. She met his gaze. She was sincere, too.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  His fingers closed more tightly around hers. “I’ll make two promises to you, and I’ll keep them both.” When she tried to turn away, he touched her chin, urging her to look at him fully. “First, I promise you that I am not Gerald, nor will I ever hurt you the way he did.”

  “That’s irrelevant since we’re no longer engaged.”

  He overlooked her sarcasm and went on to his next point. “My second promise”—his chest expanded under his knit shirt as he slowly drew in a lungful of air—“is to watch over you and protect you. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  The tone of their conversation had suddenly grown very somber, making Kimber want to lighten the mood. “That’s what guardian angels are for,” she joked, fingering the gold pin on her blouse.

  Shrugging loose from his grasp, she walked toward the lake, sending ducks and geese charging into the water. Too bad she couldn’t get rid of her ex-fiancé as easily.

  He followed her to the water’s edge. “That’s exactly it!” he insisted proudly. “I’m your guardian angel. Only, Up Yonder we’re referred to as protectorates.”

  She was going to have to mention this to his doctor. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that he was becoming delusional.

  “You know,” he added, “it would make my job a lot easier if you would just let me move back in and follow you around wherever you go.”

  “Look, Jerry, just because you happened to be there at the right place at the right time and you reacted quickly when I almost fell down the elevator shaft, that doesn’t make you my personal...protectorate!”

  “And the shoe store,” he reminded her. “Don’t forget the falling shoe rack.”

  His expression was so serious, it convinced her he was either very delusional or a very good actor. “Well, what about the Burger Heaven restaurant, where I saved you from getting pulverized by that guy who thought you were flirting with his girlfriend?” she countered. “I suppose that qualifies me as your guardian angel.”

  “Actually, no. First, you’d have to go through extensive training—”

  “Oh, gee, next thing I know, you’ll be pretending you’re Clarence in that movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. Or maybe you fancy yourself to be John Travolta in Michael.”

  He shook his head. “No, those movies aren’t realistic.”

  “Jerry,
quit pulling my leg. Of course they’re unrealistic—it’s all make-believe.”

  His hands gripped her shoulders. “There is nothing make-believe about my wanting to protect you.”

  Before she could utter a word of protest, he pulled her to him. And once she felt how the softness of his knit shirt flowed over the sharply curved muscles of his chest, she couldn’t summon the energy or the desire to pull away.

  She relaxed into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. He stroked her hair, letting his fingers brush against her ear and trail down to the pulse spot in her neck. When he spoke, she enjoyed the feeling of the warm rumble from his voice.

  “You don’t have any idea how important your safety is to me. And it’s not just for the wings, either.”

  Reluctantly, she lifted her head. “What?”

  “Kimber, what I’m telling you is true. If you try to believe it with your head, you’ll start analyzing and trying to make it fit your rules of logic.” Jerry kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Sometimes you just have to listen to your own spirit and accept the truth that it speaks.” He tapped a forefinger lightly to her heart. “You have to believe from here. With faith.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  At the company picnic that weekend, Jerry tried to stay close to Kimber in case she should get stung by a bee or hit by a softball.

  Unfortunately, she kept giving him the slip.

  He hadn’t been successful in trying to move back into her house, either. Picking up a hot dog from the concession booth, he loaded it with relish and mustard and took a large bite. Another few bites and it was gone.

  If only he could make whatever was threatening Kimber’s safety disappear as easily. He glanced around the private club grounds that Kimber’s father had rented for the event. A few employees, and especially their children, had opted for a cooling dip in the pool.

  Some had organized a ball game. Still others—like himself—milled around, either socializing or trying to look like they were enjoying themselves. Jerry fell into the latter category.

  He had crossed paths with his secretary earlier, and they had engaged in a few moments of polite chitchat. The thought had entered his mind that Donna might be the one Gerald had been seeing on the side. But she’d never shown anything other than a professional interest in him. Playing it safe, perhaps?

  No, she seemed more interested in tracking down the senior executives than spending time with him. Yep, she was definitely on the fast track up the secretarial ladder. Then again, if Gerald and Donna had been having an affair, maybe he was just another rung on that ladder.

  Having worked for such a short time at Barnett’s Bakery, Jerry hadn’t become familiar with many of his coworkers.

  And although they knew him—knew Gerald, to be exact—there didn’t seem to be any true friendships among them. Gerald must have been an extreme loner, or perhaps just incredibly off-putting to others.

  A short, stocky man headed in his direction. There was something familiar about him, and, deciding it would be more interesting to talk to someone than stand here wondering what to do, Jerry stepped into his path.

  The man looked up and scowled, causing Jerry to remember where they’d run into each other before. It was the water cooler guy. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” he said, hoping this wasn’t a longtime acquaintance of Gerald’s.

  “And why should we have been? Before now, you never had a reason to talk to me. But now that I have the goods on you, you’re suddenly realizing that we have more in common than appears on the surface.”

  The fellow was a regular sourpuss. But Jerry wasn’t going to let that deter him from his plan for the day. The picnic provided the perfect opportunity to meet a variety of people, ask a few key questions, and make some sense out of Gerald’s activities. He stuck out his hand.

  “I’m Jerry Kirkland.”

  “I know who you are.” Instead of returning Jerry’s courtesy, the man shoved his hands into his pants pockets. The action pushed his breeches down only an inch or so, but it was enough to allow his rounded belly to lop over his belt. “You’re the guy who thinks he can get away with anything you want just because you’re engaged to marry the boss’ daughter.”

  Jerry withdrew his hand and swept it through his hair. “If you’re still peeved about my cutting in front of you at the water cooler—”

  “I’m peeved about your putting the company—and my job!—in jeopardy.”

  The little man’s voice had risen, calling attention from the group of women who’d been chatting in the shade of a nearby tree.

  Jerry nodded to a more private spot on the far side of the clubhouse. A dirt path led to a wooded trail beyond it. The man followed him past the corner of the building before continuing their conversation.

  “I’ve worked in the accounting department at Barnett’s Bakery for thirty-six years, starting as a clerical assistant and eventually moving up to manager of the department. I’m fifty-four years old, Mr. Kirkland, too old to find a new job if you go through with your foolhardy plan.”

  So he’d been right about the fellow working in the accounting department. Jerry gave himself a pat on the back for his insight into human personality types. He hoped Nahum was taking notes.

  “What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t, but it’s Tackett. Pete Tackett.” The man fidgeted and glanced around them. “I’ve probably already put my job on the line by confronting you over this, but if I’m going to lose it anyway, I’d rather go down fighting.”

  “I don’t understand. What makes you think you’re going to lose your job, and why did you say the company is in jeopardy?”

  The earlier animosity faded. Tackett studied him for a full minute and apparently decided that Jerry’s question had been sincere. “You mean you really don’t know about the loophole in your merger plan?”

  Frowning, Jerry rested a hand against the rough brick building. “What loophole?”

  The little man moved closer and lowered his voice. “If the merger is handled as planned, it will open Barnett’s Bakery to a corporate takeover. And whenever something like that happens, the top level of management is often immediately replaced. That means me.”

  Suddenly, Jerry didn’t feel very well, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the bright summer sun. Had Gerald known the merger arrangements would leave the company vulnerable?

  When Jerry thought back to the two different sets of printouts, he had a sinking feeling there was something more sinister in production than a simple oversight.

  Fortunately, here was someone who knew more about the situation than he did and who had a strong reason to want to clear things up.

  Even better, Tackett now believed that the situation was merely the result of a careless mistake. The smart thing would be to enlist his aid in rooting out whatever was amiss. And he could start by having the accounting manager interpret the confusing figures on those printouts.

  “Look, would you come to my office Monday morning? I’d like to go over a few documents with you.”

  Tackett’s spirits lifted noticeably. “Sure. I’ll be there first thing.”

  “HAVING FUN?”

  Kimber turned to find Jerry holding out a bright-yellow helium balloon to her. She accepted it, then wrapped the string around her fingers. “These were supposed to be for the children.”

  He grinned. “I told the lady I was ten, and she believed me.”

  She took in the form-fitting white tank top that showed off his tan and his broad, bulky shoulders. The memo announcing the picnic had advised employees to dress casually, and he had followed it to the letter, finishing off his summer look with jean shorts and Birkenstock sandals. His calves—even on the leg that had been broken—were firm knots of muscle.

  Yes, ten was a number that suited him very well, but not with regard to his age. She lifted her hair off her neck. Was it her, or did the sun suddenly feel warmer?

  “Kimber, there you are.” Her
stepmother approached them and gave her a brief hug. “Your car is blocking Phyllis Fletcher in, and she’s about to have a fit because she’s already running behind on her to-do list for today.”

  Kimber was familiar with Phyllis’ list. A fixture with the company from the time it was a modest-size bakery with a small but enthusiastic niche of customers in the city, the woman had to be close to seventy, but she showed no sign of retiring anytime soon.

  She ran her life, and tried to run everyone else’s, the way she tackled her work...with a list written in ink that absolutely, positively must have everything crossed off by the end of the day.

  And God help anyone who interfered with her list crossing.

  She checked her watch. Almost five o’clock. Obviously, Phyllis didn’t want to be late for the amateur wrestling match on television. The older woman’s love for the sport was almost as well-known as her list compulsion.

  “I’ll go move it.” Kimber dug in her pocket for the car keys, but the balloon string got tangled in the ring.

  “Don’t bother, I’ll do it,” Alison said. She reached for the keys, and in the next moment, the yellow balloon sailed heavenward. “Oops, sorry. You just go ahead and visit with your fiancé. This won’t take but a minute.”

  With a little wave to them both, her stepmother headed off to the parking lot.

  When Kimber turned her attention back to Jerry, she found him staring forlornly at the diminishing balloon. “I’m sorry,” she said, wondering why it felt like such a big deal.

  “It’s okay. Whenever that happens, it breaks up the monotony up there in the Great Beyond.” He gave her a warm smile. “You wouldn’t believe how everyone scrambles to be first to pop the balloon.”

  Hooking her thumbs through the belt loops on her jeans, Kimber gazed up at the man who, except for one major flaw, seemed perfect for her in every way. She was beginning to think—irrationally, perhaps—that Jerry was right. Maybe he wasn’t going to turn back into the person who’d shattered her trust.