by Terri Reed
A small smile touched her heart. Yes, she decided. She could allow Sean to be her friend. Someone to converse with, maybe even laugh with someday. She missed laughing. Sean seemed to be a good-humored man. And kind. And gentle…
Her eyelids drooped.
As long as he didn’t try to save her from herself.
She jerked upright as that thought ricocheted around her mind, setting off alarm bells. She’d sent Sean to her workroom.
Oh, no! She gasped softly. She couldn’t believe she’d just sent Sean into forbidden territory.
As soon as the door swung open, Sean understood why she referred to this space as her workroom. Several half-finished oil paintings on easels crowded the small area. And more work in progress was stacked against the walls. A table barely visible beneath the clutter of artist’s debris sat beneath the window.
For a long moment Sean stared at the many paintings, seeing depth and feeling that only someone with great talent could capture.
One piece in particular arrested his gaze—a rendering of the coast viewed from out on the water. The landscape’s bold strokes in various shades of blue, green and brown contrasted with the storm-clouded sky and revealed a passion as forceful as the crashing waves.
The piece would be magnificent once she finished painting it. As magnificent as the artist herself. He was finding he liked Lauren, liked the way her mouth quirked when she talked, liked her honest and forthright way of asking him questions and appreciated that though she was wary of him, a total stranger, she wasn’t frightened of him when she had every right to be, considering the events of the evening. Distrust and fear could have easily overtaken her. But her willingness to depend on him, despite her initial reluctance, spoke to her strength of character. He admired that a great deal.
He retrieved the two small black carry-on suitcases from the closet and turned to leave. Again, his gaze strayed to the unfinished seascape.
Knowing he wouldn’t be around to see the finished work struck him with a strange sense of melancholy.
Lauren braced herself for Sean’s return, but when he didn’t question her about the workroom, she relaxed as he helped her to her bedroom where her suitcases lay open on the bed.
“How can I help?” he asked.
She waved him away. “I can handle this on my own.”
He bowed slightly before saying, “I’ll go let the officers outside know the change in plans.”
Alone in her room, she was tempted to sink onto her comforter and pretend she’d never left her bed this morning. Pretend that she hadn’t been attacked on the beach—a horrifying event in itself—and that an attractive man hadn’t entered her life, turning everything on end. She’d never met anyone like Sean. Right off the bat he cared—without knowing anything about her. Why would he do that? Could he really be a genuine Good Samaritan? She was sure there weren’t many men like him in the world.
But the day had happened. She couldn’t ignore the events that had passed, good or bad. She already knew the past couldn’t be changed. A lesson she’d learned five long years ago.
She wobbled to the dresser and stilled. Though the trinkets, jewelry box and small vase filled with dried flowers were where they should be, something seemed wrong. She studied the items but couldn’t quite place what was bothering her. Was the box a little farther away from the wall than normal? Were the flowers arranged differently?
Chalking her unease up to more paranoia and fatigue, she quickly gathered necessities, along with a few more brightly colored sweat suits.
She’d given up wearing fashionable attire after the Nightmare. Her only nod to her old, eye-catching style was the colors she wore. If she were going to be a blob, she at least would be a colorful blob.
Sean appeared in the doorway. “You ready?”
“I just need a few things from the bathroom,” she said.
With his help, she hobbled into the small space and froze as her gaze landed on the sink. She always kept her toothbrush holder on the left side of the faucet. Now it stood on the right side. Her gaze searched the room but she didn’t see anything else out of place. Maybe she had moved the holder and hadn’t realized she’d done so. It was possible. Wasn’t it?
Suppressing a shudder, she grabbed her toiletries and stuck them in her suitcase. Sean came back to carry the cases out to the truck. As she hobbled into the living room, she paused and really looked around.
Was the picture on the mantel over the fireplace straighter than it had been before? Were her books on the shelf in the same order as when she’d last looked?
She quaked. This was getting ridiculous. She really was losing it. She needed some sleep.
Sean came back inside and bent to pick her up. Knowing how good it felt to be in his arms made her even more certain she shouldn’t let herself enjoy it, so she hopped away. “I’ll hobble out.”
His mouth quirked. “Can I at least offer my arm?”
Okay, so she’d have to let him invade her bubble a little. “I’ll need more than your arm. I’ll need your whole side.” She grinned back.
With a nod of acknowledgment, he slid his arm around her waist. She leaned into him as they slowly made their way to his waiting truck. Her ankle throbbed and she bit her lip. Stubbornness had a price.
Once in the passenger seat, she sat on her hands to keep from clenching them against the ache in her foot. She should have taken more pain medicine before trying to prove she wasn’t totally helpless.
The interior of the truck smelled fresh and masculine. Like Sean. When he took his seat and drove toward town, she glanced at him, noting the strong lines of his straight nose and chiseled cheekbones.
A Christmas song played softly from the radio. She hummed along, marveling at how light in spirit she felt. There was something so soothing about being with Sean.
He turned the car onto Hemlock Street, Cannon Beach’s main thoroughfare. Even on a cold December night, with a drizzling rain shrouding the hills, the town bustled as everyone prepared for Christmas.
Festive twinkling lights lit up the sidewalks, beckoning shoppers to wander in and out of the various unique stores. The four city blocks that made up Cannon Beach’s commercial area were a mecca for photographers, artists and writers.
Lauren had always felt at home in the delightful town with its nooks, crannies and inviting paths leading to shops and galleries. She’d sat sketching in many of the garden courtyards when she’d first arrived at the beginning of summer.
The small-town ambiance and picturesque buildings of weathered cedar, their window boxes filled with winter blooms, brought peace to Lauren as they drove to the far end of Hemlock.
Sean drove the truck up a steep-inclined street, past cheerfully decorated cottages, then into an alley where he pulled up next to the cedar-sided, three-story house that had been converted into Shannon’s Bed and Breakfast.
Turning off the engine, Sean slipped from the cab to open Lauren’s door. Feeling safer than she had in five long years, she breathed in deeply the crisp winter air and allowed Sean to help her.
The Cannon Beach police cruiser pulled alongside them. Officer Kay rolled down his window. “This is a wise decision, Miss Curtis.”
Lauren acknowledged his words with a nod. “You’ll still be close though, right?”
“We’ll drive through the neighborhood as often as possible. But honestly, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I doubt your attacker will return.” Officer Kay saluted, rolled up the window and drove away.
Sean gave a wave as he led Lauren toward the door. They passed through an English-style garden, lush with evergreen foliage. An inviting brick patio welcomed them. Lauren couldn’t wait to see the yard in daylight, though she could already imagine sipping tea and sitting beneath the magnolia tree in the summer, surrounded by flowering rosebushes and large hydrangea plants.
Sean opened the side door, which sported a wreath with a red bow, and revealed polished wooden floors reflecting moonlight streaming through the open door
. To the right, through an arched doorway, she could make out a spacious and airy kitchen, with a center island that would undoubtedly be a gathering place for guests. Sean guided her down a short hall to a cozy reading alcove and helped her sit on a flower-upholstered chair. Light from wall sconces glowed over her right shoulder. Beneath her feet was a dark green patterned throw rug.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and darted back outside, leaving the door wide open.
A draft of frigid air blew in. A chill prickled her skin. A shadow flittered across the open doorway. “Sean?”
FOUR
“Hello.”
Startled, Lauren yelped as she whipped around to see a tall, stately woman gliding down the hall toward her.
“Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the woman said as she stopped near Lauren where she sat. “You must be Lauren.”
Catching her runaway breath, Lauren waved her hand. “Sorry. I’m a bit jumpy tonight. Yes, I’m Lauren.”
“Mary Shannon.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m so happy Sean was able to convince you to come stay with us after the fright you’ve had tonight.”
Gripping the older woman’s slender hand, Lauren immediately liked Mary’s genuine smile and bright blue eyes that crinkled at the corners. Her red hair curled around an impish face, and her nautical-themed sweater and pants made Lauren feel as if she’d just stepped onto her yacht rather than into her home.
“Thank you for the offer,” Lauren said, releasing Mary’s hand.
“Let’s get you situated in a room. I’ll put you on the first floor so you don’t have to navigate the stairs.” Mary’s eyes twinkled. “Though I’m sure Sean would be happy to be in charge of carrying you up and down.”
Remembering how easily he’d lifted her into his arms heated Lauren’s cheeks. She was saved from commenting by Sean, returning with her cases.
“I’ve made up the Mermaid Suite,” Mary told him, waving a hand toward the hall.
With a grin, Sean headed that way.
“The Mermaid Suite?”
Pride gleamed in Mary’s face. “Each room has a theme. It was such fun decorating them. I love the Pirate Room on the third floor the best. That’s where Sean is staying.”
“I’m not taking your room, am I?”
Mary laughed. “Oh, no. My room is down the hall from where you’ll be.”
With support from Mary, Lauren hobbled down the hall. Dried starfish and silk kelp clung to a fishing net draped on one wall. Pictures of the Oregon coast hung on the opposite wall. Sean stopped in front of a closed door, above which hung a small sign that read, The Mermaid.
Bracing herself for some garish display, Lauren peered inside. She was surprised and pleased to see the room didn’t display tacky renditions of the mythical creatures. Rather, the room was done tastefully in shades of muted greens and white. The four-poster bed, covered with a sea of quilts and pillows, beckoned with comfort.
In the corner stood a two-foot-tall Christmas tree decorated with seashells and starfish ornaments. Next to the tree sat a plush sage-colored chair and ottoman and a floor lamp casting a soft light to illuminate the room. A window overlooked the garden. A perfect spot to read.
An antique white vanity with a gilded mirror beckoned with a display of trinkets from the sea. Sean set her suitcases on the floor.
“There’s a private bath.” Sean gestured past the matching dresser and sliding closet doors to a closed door.
“This is lovely,” she remarked.
Mary beamed. “Can I help you get ready for bed?”
Lauren shook her head as she sank into the chair by the window. “I’ll manage.”
Nodding, Mary said, “Rest well, young lady. We’ll see you in the morning.” Mary shooed Sean out before gliding from the room and quietly shutting the door behind her.
Lauren eased her head back and closed her eyes, grateful to Sean for his thoughtfulness for bringing her here. She was glad she hadn’t allowed her stubbornness to keep her from accepting the invitation to stay here. Aunt Mary had such a welcoming way about her. Lauren really liked Mary. And Sean, too. She thought back to their conversation in the truck. When she’d asked him about church—a look of such utter sadness had flashed across his face. She’d wanted to ask what was wrong, but then they’d arrived at her house and the moment passed.
A line of scripture floated into her consciousness. “Bear one another’s burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ.”
What burdens did Sean carry?
“I can’t bear any more burdens, Lord,” she whispered.
A loud bang jarred Lauren awake. She jerked upright, the bedding impeding her movements, causing pain to shoot up her leg from her ankle.
She groaned and a shiver of apprehension tightened her shoulders. Shrouded in darkness, she strained to listen.
What had she heard? An intruder? Someone trying to get in through the window?
Her mind flashed to the horrible night that had changed her life. She’d been alone then, too. Her attacker had jimmied a window and silently entered her studio. But she’d survived. Barely.
Helplessness and vulnerability swamped her. Terror set off alarms through her mind. No, wait.
Memory flooded in. She wasn’t alone. She was safe in Shannon’s Bed and Breakfast with Sean and Mary. Releasing the hold she had on the soft comforter, she took several deep breaths.
Rain batted against the windows. Thunder rolled through the night.
A crash of thunder must have been what she’d heard.
She was panicking for nothing.
Letting out a sigh of relief, she settled back against the fluffy pillows and tried not to shiver with residual fear. Storms didn’t usually bother her, but tonight the dark seemed oppressive and the howling wind outside fueled her imagination.
Between the attack on the beach and the scare at the hospital, it was no wonder she was jumpy.
But she wouldn’t have to relive the Nightmare again. Adrian Posar was securely locked up in prison, where he’d never be able to hurt her again. The police would find the beach attacker and all would be well.
Closing her eyes, Lauren forced her mind to concentrate on a blank canvas. She fell back to sleep with a sketch of Sean’s handsome face etched in her mind, even as a lingering sense of dread gripped her heart.
Morning came with a rush of sunlight gliding into the room. Lauren opened her eyes and stared at the scene above her. A mural of frolicking mer-people in a blue and green sea covered the ceiling. She hadn’t noticed the painting last night. With a critical eye she assessed the work. Not bad. Some of the proportions were off, but painting upside down had to be a difficult feat so she decided to just enjoy the view.
Turning her head, she glanced at the side-table clock. Her eyes widened. It was almost noon. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in so late. The cushy bed cradled her body, the comforter kept the December chill out, making it far too easy to sleep deeply. Even now, she didn’t want to leave the safety and warmth of the bed.
But laziness wasn’t acceptable. With a soft groan, she rolled to her good side and then slid her feet from beneath the covers to land on the floor. Gingerly, she tested her foot. Her ankle throbbed. She shifted all her weight to her uninjured leg.
Dressing and using the facilities proved exhausting, but she hadn’t wanted to ask for help. By the time she emerged from her room, sweat trickled down her neck and she was shaking. The hallway was empty. A distinct pounding from above told her Sean was working. She contemplated calling for him, but decided she could make it to the kitchen on her own steam.
She hobbled down the hall, using the wall for support. When she entered the beautifully appointed kitchen, she found Mary Shannon at the stove. Today she wore another nautical-themed outfit in yellows and blue. She even sported tassels on the hem of her sweater.
“Good morning,” Lauren said, though her voice sounded winded.
Mary whipped around, a hand going to the base of
her throat. “Oh, my. This time you startled me.” She smiled and wiped her hands on a towel. “Did you sleep well?”
“Very,” Lauren replied as she eased into a cane-back chair at the breakfast nook table. “You?”
“I kept hearing noises. Must have been the weather,” Mary stated. Concern flashed in her delicately-lined face. “You don’t look so good.”
Lauren didn’t feel so good. Nausea roiled in her empty stomach. She needed food and more painkillers. “Could I bother you for something to eat? I shouldn’t take my medication on an empty stomach.”
“No bother at all,” Mary said. “I was just fixing Sean’s lunch. Seafood gumbo.” A frown furrowed her brow. “It’s a bit spicy. Would you care for some? Or would you like something a little milder?”
Though the gumbo smelled delicious, Lauren wasn’t sure she could do spicy. “Milder, please.”
“Eggs and toast?”
“Perfect.” Lauren tried to rise from the chair. “Let me help.”
“Nonsense,” Mary scolded. “You’re my guest and you’re injured. You sit, relax. Food will be up in a jiffy.”
“Thank you.” Lauren sat back down, grateful to take the pressure off her foot. Overhead, she heard a power saw start up. “It was nice of Sean to move here to help you with your renovations.”
Carrying a plate of fluffy eggs and buttered toast to the table, Mary nodded. “Yes. It’s been good for him to be here. He needed a change.”
“Is he a carpenter by trade?”
A slight smile tugged at the corners of Mary’s lips. “That’s a question you’ll have to ask him.”
She’d tried, but he’d sidestepped the question, turning the conversation back on her. Interesting. She ate the meal and took her medication. By the time Sean entered the kitchen for his lunch, she was drowsy again. And didn’t even protest when he carried her back to her room and tucked her back in bed.
As she drifted off, she felt the soft touch of a kiss on her forehead. She smiled and surrendered to sleep.
Night fell with a fresh winter storm coming ashore. The windows rattled with gale winds barreling off the ocean and rain tapping on the glass. As far as Sean was concerned, it was a perfect night for a cozy fire, hot chocolate, Christmas music and a beautiful woman by his side. Lauren.
