A Vow to Love

by Sherryl Woods

  "Time. Patience. Love. You have to love him enough to look beyond the wall."

  Easier said than done, Penny thought as Dana went off to join in the volleyball game. Anyway, who had said anything about love? Besides the incurably romantic Didi, of course.

  Penny was willing to admit she was attracted to Sam, sufficiently attracted to him that she'd been inevitably drawn back to Boston to do her graduate work after years of refusing invitations to visit. That was what she had been longing to tell him the night before, but she had known that he wasn't ready for that much honesty. She'd stayed away as long as she could and when her silly, childish fantasies about him hadn't died, she had come back to discover why.

  Maybe it had been her stubborn pride at stake, too. Sam was the first important person in her entire life who hadn't immediately and without reservation liked her. She'd had doting parents, supportive sisters, a generous aunt, an adoring grandmother and then an even more adoring grandfather. Her teachers thought she was brilliant. She'd grown up surrounded by friends.

  And then, along had come Sam Roberts, the first boy she'd seriously fallen for, and he'd rejected her as little more than a pesky nuisance to be tolerated out of some sense of duty. It had shaken her self-esteem more than she would have ever thought possible. Maybe if it had come at any other time in her life, it wouldn't have mattered so much. But she had been sixteen, discovering what love was all about for the very first time. And Sam was someone her grandfather admired and respected. It made his opinion of her count for even more.

  Other young men had followed that first disastrous encounter with Sam. She had been very popular her senior year in high school and all through college. No Friday or Saturday night passed without a date. But few dates were repeated and no one had made her feel the same way Sam had--good or bad.

  She'd never been naive enough to believe she would go through life beloved by every single person on earth, but she hadn't had a lot of practice with rejection. Something in Sam's attitude had made her want desperately to prove that whatever assumptions he had made about her were wrong. She refused to accept the possibility that it was just a case of oil and water not mixing. Plus not one single kiss in her entire dating experience had wiped out the yearning she felt for the one kiss that had never happened.

  And now that it had happened? She was going to figure out some way to fight Sam's stubbornness, some way to make sure that last night's kisses weren't the only ones they ever shared. If Grandfather and everyone else wanted to throw them together, including the troublesome Tank Landry, so much the better. She no longer intended to put up any kind of fuss whatsoever. She'd take all the help she could get.

  Maybe what she felt for Sam wasn't love. But whatever it was was more intriguing than anything she had ever felt before and she didn't intend to give it up without a fight.

  Unwilling to join in the volleyball game and still trying to sort out her thoughts, Penny stood and started down the beach. Maybe a long walk would clear her head. It was a spectacular day, a stunning contrast to the previous night's deluge. The sky had been washed clean by the rain, the deep blue of the Atlantic was topped by perfect whitecaps, and the crisp breeze was counter-pointed by the sun's warmth.

  Penny walked for an hour or more, lost in thought, feeling oddly contented, as if a major decision in her life had finally been made. She was heading back when she saw Sam jogging along the beach, kicking up water behind him, his body hard from regular workouts at the gym. She envied him his easy gait and even more, his ease with his own body. She'd always felt slightly awkward and definitely not the least bit athletic.

  He slowed when he saw her. "You've been gone awhile."

  Inordinately pleased that he'd noticed, she responded with a careless shrug. "I felt like a long walk."

  "You should have joined us at volleyball. We could have used the help."

  "I'm too short. I can't get the ball over the net to save my soul. Every year in high school physical education there was a unit on volleyball and every year I was totally humiliated."

  "We're not talking world peace here. It's supposed to be fun."

  "It's not fun if everyone laughs at you."

  "Tomorrow, after everyone rests up, we'll show you our version of the game. If the two-year-old can participate, you can play. He's much shorter than you are."

  "He had an advantage. He was sitting on your shoulders."

  "Tomorrow it's your turn."

  "My turn to do what?"

  "You'll sit on my shoulders."

  Apparently oblivious to the effect that suggestion had on her, he turned and fell into step beside her. She tamed her pulse and tried to keep any hint of breathlessness out of her voice. "I thought you were going for a run."

  "Just stretching my legs." He looked down at her. "Your nose is sunburned. Didn't you put any lotion on it?"

  Penny winced. "I forgot. It's in my pocket." She pulled out the tube.

  "It doesn't do you any good in there." He held out his hand. When he had the tube, he squeezed out a dab on his finger, then slowly rubbed it on her nose.

  Whether it was caused by the chill of the lotion or Sam's gentle touch, Penny shivered. She lifted her gaze to meet his. He was intent on what he was doing, his brow furrowed in concentration. With the pad of his thumb, he smoothed the lotion across her cheeks, then trailed his fingers along her jaw.

  At some point, and Penny wasn't entirely certain when, the caress changed. It no longer had anything to do with the application of suntan lotion and everything to do with the simple touch of his fingers against her skin.

  His gaze finally met hers. He looked so confused, so utterly uncertain, that Penny wanted to promise him that everything was going to be all right. Unfortunately, with her breath lodged in her throat and her pulse hammering, she wasn't so sure it was true. She had the distinct feeling that she and Sam Roberts were headed for trouble.

  Unlike Sam, though, she could hardly wait to get there.

  Chapter 8

  Randy was pacing up and down the street outside the gym when Sam arrived for his Monday workout. He'd been looking forward to it all day, counting on it to relieve the frustration that had built up in him throughout the weekend on Cape Cod. He hadn't held out a lot of hope it would work, but it was the only thing he could think of to try that wouldn't just complicate an already complex situation.

  "Where have you been, man?" Randy demanded. "I've been looking all over. I even went to the police station."

  The near panic in the boy's voice didn't worry Sam nearly as much as his visit to the police station. Randy wouldn't have gone there except in a dire emergency. "I was away for the weekend. What's up?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even so that his own alarm wouldn't show. Randy already appeared to be on the edge.

  "Tank and the guys, they've been talking a lot about your girl."

  It was the last thing Sam needed to hear. He'd wanted desperately to push Penny out of his mind tonight.

  "She is not my girl," he snapped. He attributed his sour mood to a handful of kisses that might have gotten out of hand if he hadn't kept a tight rein on his libido. Unfortunately he was now paying the price for being so blasted honorable. Randy's reminder that Penny could have been his girl in the most basic way possible was untimely at best.

  Randy regarded him with astonishment. "She's not?"

  "No, she is not," he said firmly, trying not to think of the way she had melted in his arms, of the way her body had fit his as if they'd been made for each other.

  "Well, whatever. The point is that Tank thinks she is. I think he's planning to put some moves on her." He regarded Sam worriedly. "You know what I'm saying?"

  Sam's blood came to a slow boil. He'd been expecting something like this, but the reality of it filled him with outrage.

  "I understand," he said slowly, determined not to let his temper get the best of him. He had to think rationally, go strictly by the book. "When?"

  "I don't know. Soon, I guess. He doesn't
say much around me, you know, because he knows you and me are pals. But the other guys, they let it slip."

  Sam realized what it must have taken for Randy to risk telling him. He wondered if the boy understood the significance of the choice he'd made. "Why are you warning me?"

  "Because you've tried to be my friend. I figure I owe you. And I don't like the things they were talking about. Ms. Hayden looks like a nice lady. I wouldn't want to see her hurt that way. It's wrong. It's not like taking some jewelry or a TV or something. I'd keep an eye on her, if I were you. I mean, if you care."

  Sam cared. Despite his protests, that much was undeniable. He cared more than he should, more than he wanted to. He thought of the undercover surveillance he was scheduled to be on all night. Then he thought of Penny's habit of walking everywhere she went. Damn! Maybe he could send Jason to pick her up after work, but how the devil would he explain that to either of them? And switching duty with one of the other cops would raise just as many questions. It looked as if he was going to have to trust Randy, at least for the next few hours until he could get off duty.

  "You busy tonight?" he asked.

  The teenager shrugged. "Nothing I can't get out of."

  "I want you to get over to the lab where Penny works. You know where that is?"

  Randy nodded. "I've followed her there with Tank and the guys a couple of times."

  Sam decided not to comment on that. For the moment, he was glad Randy had been around Tank to hear what the punk had in mind.

  He put his hand on Randy's shoulder. "Okay, here's what I need you to do. Wait around until she leaves, then stick close to her until she gets home. If one of your pals comes within eyesight, I want you to beep me. Don't take any chances. Beep me the minute Tank shows up."

  "Should I let her know what I'm doing?"

  Sam thought of Penny's insistence that she could take care of herself without any interference from him. "The lady likes to think she can take on the world. Let's let her go on thinking that. Just don't let her out of your sight."

  Randy straightened his shoulders. "You can trust me, Sam. I'll make sure she's safe."

  Sam nodded. "I appreciate it. I'll be by as soon as I can shake loose from my assignment. If you need me sooner, though, beep me."

  "I promise."

  Sam shook his hand. "Thanks for warning me about this. I owe you one."

  Randy grinned shyly. "Nah, man. I owe you. It means a lot knowing you'd trust me."

  He turned and trotted off in the direction of the bus stop. As he watched him go, Sam prayed that his trust in the boy wasn't misplaced. Come on, Roberts, he told himself sternly. The kid came to warn you, didn't he?

  But when push came to shove, would Randy's allegiance go to the cop who'd befriended him or to the gang members he'd known his whole life? Sam debated calling off the surveillance and going to keep an eye on Penny himself. Surely, though, for this one night at least, she would be safe enough in Randy's hands. He could be there himself in a few hours. In the meantime, he would be only minutes away if anything came down and Randy alerted him. He had to believe that would give him enough time.

  In the end, though, it was the longest five hours of his life. By the time midnight finally rolled around, he couldn't wait to cross town and relieve Randy from his watch over Penny's building.

  Unfortunately, when he pulled up outside, he saw no sign of the teenager. Nor was there a single light burning in Penny's apartment. It was possible she had gone to bed, but if so, where the hell was Randy? He should have been on the street somewhere keeping an eye on things.

  Sam parked down the block, then crossed over to the entrance to her building. He checked the tiny lobby, then went back outside and slowly walked around the entire building, cursing the fact that Penny didn't have a car he could look for to determine if she was even home.

  He was just heading back for his own car when his beeper went off.

  "Damn! I knew it. I just knew it," he muttered as he took off running. He was already starting the engine as he used his cellular phone to dial the number that showed on his beeper.

  Randy picked up on the first ring. "Sam, is that you? Man, you gotta get here. First, she went to the library. She was there for hours with this big pile of books. I think I must be allergic to dust or something. I was sneezing the whole time. Anyway, then she went for coffee with some woman. They've been yakking for the past hour or more. All of a sudden I see Tank and the guys coming down the block."

  The words tumbled out so fast, it was all Sam could do to follow the gist. As soon as he heard Tank's name mentioned, he interrupted. "Where are you?"

  Randy described an all-night diner a few miles away near the campus.

  Sam slapped a flashing light on the roof of his car, hit the siren and squealed around the corner. "I'll be there in five minutes, tops."

  "Should I go inside? Try to keep her there? She looks like she's getting ready to leave. She's getting money out of her purse to pay the check."

  Sam considered the options. None of them were ideal. "Has Tank seen you?" he asked finally.

  "No."

  "But he has seen her?"

  "Man, what do you think he's doing here?" Randy said impatiently. "This ain't his kinda place. All these intellectual dudes give him the creeps."

  "Is he inside or outside?"

  "They've been hanging around outside, but it looks like he's getting ready to go in."

  "Is the place busy?"

  "Not really. Just some lady waiting tables and some guy making burgers. Looks like three, maybe four people sitting at the counter. I can't see one end."

  With any luck, that was enough witnesses to keep Tank from causing any real trouble inside the place. And hopefully Penny wouldn't budge once she'd seen Tank. She'd promised him that she wouldn't take foolish chances where the gang leader was concerned. And if the woman with her was Didi, she'd probably pressure her to keep her word.

  "Stay where you are," Sam told him. "I need you where you can keep telling me what's happening without being seen. I'm maybe a mile away now. You should be hearing the siren."

  "I think I hear it already," Randy said. "Maybe you should cut it, though. Tank gets real spooked when he hears one. He's liable to do something crazy."

  "Crazy like what? Is he carrying?" he asked, already heeding Randy's advice and cutting the siren. He killed the light while he was at it. No point in alarming Tank.

  "Not a gun," Randy said. "But he always has this knife. He's good with it, too."

  Envisioning that knife held at Penny's throat made him sick to his stomach. Sam gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He had to stay cool. He needed to stroll casually into the place and prevent anything from happening, rather than causing it. With that in mind, he managed to take the last corner on all four wheels. He slanted the car into the only available space on the block, ignoring the fire hydrant. There'd be hell to pay for that if a by-the-book beat cop came along.

  He made himself sit in the car long enough to give Randy a final set of instructions. "Randy, I can see where you are. I want you to stay right by that phone. If things get out of hand inside, you call 9-1-1 for backup immediately. Just tell them an officer needs assistance. You understand?"

  "Yeah. Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you, though?" he asked, obviously disappointed not to be included in whatever action was about to go down.

  "No. You've handled this just fine. Now leave the rest to me, okay?"

  "Sure, if you say so."

  Sam observed Tank through the diner's window. He and his pals were seated one booth away from Penny and Didi Rogers. So far they were behaving like a regular group of guys stopping for a late-night soda. Even so, Sam felt a cold fury every time he thought about what they probably had on their minds.

  He crossed the street slowly, careful not to look in Randy's direction. As he reached for the door, he drew in a last breath and prayed that he could pull this off without any bloodshed.
r />   With his gaze fixed on Penny and her friend and a smile plastered on his face, he sauntered down the aisle. Penny glanced up and regarded him with a shocked expression.

  "Hey, sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek as if meeting her here were a nightly occurrence. He nodded at Didi, who was grinning expectantly. Judging from the twinkle in her eyes, his name had come up in their conversation.

  "What...?" Penny began.

  Before she could complete the question, he covered her mouth with his own, lingering just a tad longer than was actually necessary for the effect he was trying to create. Nudging her over, he slid into the booth beside her. He squeezed her hand, hoping she'd respond to the warning.

  She stayed quiet, but her whole body was tense with indignation. Knowing her, at any second all that irritation was going to spill out in the form of a very vocal explosion. To buy time, he gestured to the waitress for a cup of coffee, then waited until she'd brought it. Keeping his voice even, he told the two women, "We have company in the next booth."

  "You mean Tank," Penny said without the least hint of concern in her voice.

  "You saw him, then?"

  "I'm not blind, for heaven's sake."

  "Word on the street is that tonight's the night he plans to make good on his threat."

  Her eyes widened at that. "Against me?"

  "You've got it, sweetheart."

  "Maybe if you'd stop calling me that, I wouldn't be in this fix."

  "Too late now," he retorted, figuring it had been too late from the moment they'd met a long time ago. Penny was destined to be trouble for him, in one way or another.

  Didi Rogers was regarding them curiously. "Anyone care to tell me what's going on?"

  Before either of them could answer, Tank stood and made his way to their booth. He surveyed Didi appreciatively, cast a dismissive look at Sam, then turned his gaze on Penny. The kid's testosterone was clearly in overdrive.

  "How come you want to hang around with a loser like him?" he asked, attempting to affect a mature derisiveness. Given his careless hairstyle, the zits on his face and his deliberately torn jeans, it was a futile effort.