From The Ashes

by Claire Sanders

  The fact that she’d driven to the nearby city and looked in three stores before she found the right color didn’t necessarily mean she was buying it just for Jacob. She knew from experience that royal blue looked best with her dark hair and eyes.

  She examined the new shoes she’d bought and wondered if Jacob was as excited about the date. They hadn’t really spent much time alone together, and tonight it would be just the two of them.

  But it was just dinner, she reminded herself. Just dinner with a friend. Getting excited about seeing him was foolish. Not that he wasn’t good looking. That handsome face had probably netted him more than a few feminine hearts. And he moved with easy confidence, a type of masculine grace that spoke of strength and power. But she had a life in Dallas, and once she’d finished her business in Piney Meadow, she intended to go back to it.

  Still, it would be nice to spend time with him. As long as she remembered his friendship was all she was interested in.

  ****

  Jacob pulled up in front of Judith’s cabin, checked his appearance in the rearview mirror, and slid out of his truck. Just as he stepped onto the porch, Judith came through the screen door. He gave a low whistle of approval. “Nice,” he said.

  Her cheeks grew pink under his inspection. “What?” she asked. “This old dress? I wear it whenever I don’t care how I look.” She gave him a playful grin.

  He slid his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks and leaned against the post. “Now, why don’t I believe that?”

  She stepped off the porch and made her way to the truck. “You look pretty nice yourself. You don’t strike me as the type of man who wears a tie very often.”

  “You’re right about that,” he answered, falling into step behind her. “But I’ve been known to put one on for church and other special occasions.”

  “So tonight’s a special occasion? Where are we going?”

  “Thought we might go into the city for Chinese food. That OK with you?”

  “Sure.”

  Jacob opened the passenger side door and Judith moved to climb into his truck. She let out a low grumble of frustration, turned her back towards the seat and tried to boost herself up. Unable to lift herself, she blew out a breath and faced Jacob. “I have a problem.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your truck’s too high.”

  The last thing Jacob wanted to be was the type of dense male his sisters were always complaining about, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what Judith was talking about.

  She set her purse on the truck seat and faced him. “I don’t suppose you have a stepladder.”

  A ladder? She’d been in and out of his truck plenty of times. Why would she need a ladder now? “What are you talking about, Judith?”

  She rolled her eyes and a pang of uneasiness settled in his stomach. Despite his best intentions, Jacob was being one of those dense males.

  “My dress,” she said. “Stupid me bought a dress that’s too narrow to climb into your truck.”

  “Oh,” Jacob answered, smiling with relief that her eye roll hadn’t been directed at him.

  “If you’ll wait here,” she said, “I’ll go change.”

  “Nah, that’s not necessary.” Jacob placed his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her onto the seat.

  “Oh!” she gasped. “You made that look easy.”

  “It was easy. You don’t weigh more than a sack full of feathers.”

  “Oh, Jacob,” she said with a laugh. “You sure know the right thing to say to a girl.”

  He closed her door, circled the front of the truck, and climbed behind the wheel. He’d known his first date with Judith would be different than any other. So far, he was right on the money. Plus, once they got to the restaurant, she’d need help getting down. As he drove away from the cabin, Jacob began to formulate a plan for how to use that to his advantage.

  ****

  Judith fastened her seatbelt and relaxed. “I had a visit from the FBI.”

  “Oh, yeah? Was it about loaning your church?”

  “Yep. An agent named Mark Grey came to see the place. He wants to put up security cameras so he can record any suspicious actions.”

  “You agreed to that?”

  “I know I’m putting my grandfather’s church at risk, but the way I see it, it’s better to risk the building in order to do something good than to play it safe.”

  “I like that about you.” Jacob stretched his right arm across the back of the truck’s bench seat, rested his fingertips against Judith’s shoulder, and then glanced at her.

  Just a little touch. His fingers barely skimmed the fabric of her dress, yet his touch sent ripples of excitement down her arm.

  She started a new conversation. “Tell me about your family.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I can’t imagine what it must be like to grow up with that many brothers and sisters. Did you like it?”

  “Didn’t have much choice. I had a friend when I was a kid. He was like you, an only child, and I used to love to go over to his house. He didn’t have any big brothers beating up on him or big sisters teasing him.”

  “That sounds awful.”

  “But the thing is, he always wanted to come to my house to play. He loved hanging around with my big brothers and he had a crush on both of my sisters.”

  “Is this a story about the grass always being greener?”

  “My point is we don’t have any choice about what kind of family we’re raised in. I was lucky though. My parents loved each of us, taught us right from wrong and provided an education.”

  “And now you work in the family business.”

  “Yep. It’s my father, my two brothers, and me.”

  “No sisters? Your mother doesn’t work?”

  “My mother worked with my dad before I was born and, although they could work in the business if they wanted to, my sisters chose other things.”

  “Dorothy Davidson told me you used to be a police officer.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Where?”

  “Houston.”

  “I didn’t take you for a big city kind of guy.”

  “I enjoyed living in the city.”

  “Why’d you move back?”

  “That’s a long story. Look, here’s the restaurant. You hungry?”

  There was something Jacob wasn’t telling her, but Judith decided to let it go. They were just getting to know one another, and their friendship would come to a dead end if she pushed for secrets he wasn’t ready to tell.

  Jacob stopped the car in a far corner. Just as Judith was devising a complicated plan that involved sliding out of her seat and straightening her legs at just the right moment in order to land on her feet, Jacob opened her door and held out his arms.

  Judith smiled at her rescuer and placed her hands on his shoulders. Once she was on solid ground, he stepped closer, putting them toe-to-toe.

  “Whenever I get close to you, I smell gardenias,” he said in a low voice. “Perfume?”

  “Just soap.” She took a deep breath, inhaling his pleasant, masculine scent. “You smell pretty nice yourself.”

  He fingered a strand of her hair. “Your hair has a mind of its own, doesn’t it?”

  Judith stifled a groan, hating to hear the same critical words hair stylists had always used to describe her unruly hair.

  “I like it,” Jacob added.

  Judith jerked her head up to look into his eyes. Was he kidding?

  He placed his hands on the nape of her neck and fanned her hair through his fingers. “It’s so soft. It curls around my finger like grape vine.” He wasn’t kidding.

  If Judith hadn’t liked him before, she definitely liked him now.

  ****

  Jacob leaned across the table and looked at Judith. “Now it’s your turn to tell me about your family.”

  Judith took a sip of hot tea and shrugged one shoulder. “There’s not much to tell. There�
��s just my father and me.”

  “What was it like growing up like that?”

  “Quiet.”

  “And lonely?”

  “Sometimes.” Judith set the teacup on the table and slowly ran her finger around the rim. “But as long as I had a pencil and a piece of paper I was happy.”

  “You could draw even when you were a little girl?”

  “Couldn’t stop drawing. I’d see something and just have to put it on paper. I ran across one of my early sketchbooks when I was packing to come here. Let’s just say, I’ve improved since then.”

  He’d love to see those early drawings. He wanted to know everything about her. “Did you go to college?”

  “Art school. In Chicago.”

  “And after art school, you moved back to Dallas?”

  “Right. I landed a few illustrating jobs while I was still in school, and they led to more. I worked for several years at an advertising agency, then quit that job and started freelancing. My father thought quitting was a terrible mistake, but I’ve been much happier working on projects I choose.”

  “Like children’s books.”

  “They’ve been an interesting challenge. I have to make the author’s words come to life in a way children will understand. Sparking a child’s imagination is the best part of the job.”

  “Like fairies living in tree trunks.”

  “You remember.”

  “What’s your next project?”

  “My editor has been talking about a book on mermaids, but, so far, there’s nothing definite.”

  “How does one research mermaids?” Jacob closed his eyes and placed two fingers on his forehead. “I see a trip to the beach in your future.”

  Judith laughed at his feigned attempt at fortune telling. “There’s nothing definite yet. Although I wouldn’t mind a trip to the beach.”

  “When I lived in Houston I went to Galveston every chance I got. I love walking along the beach in the evening.”

  “How long did you live in Houston?”

  “Three years. I’ve been back in Piney Meadow for two.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  The corners of Jacob’s mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown. “Not really. Being a police officer was more exciting than acquiring and managing land, but it’s good to be back with my family. When I needed them, they welcomed me back with open arms.”

  There it was again, that hint of something bad that had happened in Houston. Judith thought of her own tragedy. Should she tell Jacob about her mother’s death? Maybe he already knew. “Did your mother ever tell you how my mother died?”

  Jacob reached across the table and took Judith’s hand. “Mom told me your mother was murdered. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

  It was the perfect thing to say. No empty platitudes or awkward pity. Just a simple statement of his feelings.

  “Did your mother also tell you I was the one who let the murderer into the house?”

  Jacob tightened his hold on her hand. “I don’t know the circumstances of your mother’s death, but I do know you wouldn’t ever let anyone hurt her. A few days ago, you were ready to punch Dwight Thompson for simply saying hateful words. You’ve got a protective streak in you that’s wider than a redwood.”

  Could Jacob Fraser get any more perfect?

  Judith opened her mouth to thank him, but emotion choked her voice. She took another sip of tea and focused her gaze on the flickering candle in the center of the table.

  It was time to tell the story to her new friend. “My mom hired a man to take care of our yard. He came one day, just like he did every week, and cut the grass. Mom always gave him a glass of cold water when she paid him, so when he rang the bell, I opened the door and let him in.” Judith glanced at Jacob.

  He leaned forward in his chair and focused on her, waiting patiently for her to continue. He was listening, she realized. Simply listening. Judith’s heart eased. Jacob wouldn’t judge her harshly for the mistake she’d made so long ago.

  Judith tucked her hair behind her ear and continued. “I saw our neighbor’s cocker spaniel running loose. That dog was always escaping, so I went outside to catch it. When I went back into our house, my mom was on the kitchen floor. Her throat was cut and she was bleeding to death.”

  Jacob’s brows drew together in a concerned frown. “How old were you?”

  “Eight.”

  He shook his head slowly. “And you still blame yourself?”

  “No. I mean…well, I try not to.”

  “If you hadn’t been there that day, your mother would have probably let the killer in, anyway. That was her routine, wasn’t it?”

  “I guess so. I opened the door, called to my mom that the yard man was there, and ran outside. But maybe my mother would have seen something in his face that warned her. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him in that day.”

  “That’s a lot of maybes, Judith.”

  Judith’s gaze connected with Jacob’s. His dark blue eyes showed no hint of duplicity. She found no hint of censure or blame in his face, only sympathy and understanding.

  “Chloe’s going to be eight years old in a few days.” Jacob was changing the subject? Perhaps he couldn’t bear to listen to more.

  Judith smiled back at him and shifted in her chair. “I know. I volunteered to help with the decorations.”

  “So if Chloe did something similar, would you blame her?”

  Tears sprang to Judith’s eyes. Chloe. Innocent, effervescent Chloe. May the Lord protect the child from such horror. “No, of course not. She’s just a little girl.”

  “And so were you, Judith. Just a little girl.”

  Judith brushed away tears with the fingers of her free hand. She’d heard those same words many times before. She’d been a child, blameless and unable to know what the killer had in mind. So why had the words held so much more power when Jacob said them?

  Because of Chloe, of course. Chloe was as guileless as a puppy and Judith cared for the child. For the first time, she truly understood how innocent she’d been at the age of eight.

  Judith smiled at Jacob through her tears. “Thank you,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “How’d you know the right thing to say?”

  He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “I’ve got my secrets, too.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I know, but…I want to tell you why I left the Houston P.D.”

  Judith propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. She’d listen without judging, just as he had.

  Jacob let go of her hand, took a deep breath and let it out. He shifted his gaze from hers and looked out the restaurant’s window. “I was on patrol one night when we got a call for a robbery in progress at a warehouse. That wasn’t usually a dangerous call, but the dispatcher said ‘possible hostages’ and that got the attention of several squad cars. My partner and I were first on the scene. We started taking fire almost immediately.”

  A sharp pain darted through Judith’s chest at the thought of Jacob being in danger, but she didn’t speak.

  “It was so dark that night,” he continued. “The robbers had shot out the security lights, and the lights from the squad car weren’t helping much. We took cover behind our car and decided to wait for backup.”

  Jacob leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands in front of his stomach. He still hadn’t made eye contact. He continued to stare out the darkened windows as though he was viewing the scene. “We didn’t know where the suspects were, but I thought we were relatively safe behind the car. But during the next round of fire, my partner got hit in the right shoulder. For a second I didn’t know what to do. Should I tend to my partner’s wound or try to locate the shooters? Just then a man stepped out of the shadows, his arms raised in front of his chest and his hands clasped together.”

  Jacob imitated the shooting stance. “My partner yelled at me to shoot, but I couldn’t see a gun. I’d heard about dead kids who’d been carr
ying toy guns and I didn’t want to make that kind of mistake. But as the man came nearer, I could make out a dark shape behind him. Two men were walking together, but I still couldn’t see a gun. Finally, they got close enough for me to see what was going on. The guy in the back had a gun up against the ribs of a teenager in the front.”

  Jacob quieted then, his gaze locked on the windows. His breathing remained steady and his face placid, but a muscle flexed in his jaw.

  Judith cleared her throat. “So the hostage was a human shield?”

  Something flickered in Jacob’s eyes, as though her voice had brought him back from the memory. “Right, but more than that, the perpetrator was forcing the hostage to take a firing position so it would look like he was the one who had the gun.” Jacob’s voice drifted into silence again.

  Should Judith wait until Jacob’s attention came back to the present or should she prompt him to finish the story? He’d obviously survived the incident, but something had convinced him that a life in law enforcement wasn’t for him. Judith touched his arm, drawing his attention from the windows and back to her. “What happened, Jacob?”

  “I fired at the guy in the back, but I wasn’t fast enough. The robber shot the hostage a split second before I shot him.”

  Judith closed her eyes and let the pain pass through her. She knew what it was like to feel responsible for someone else’s death. She wanted to gather Jacob into her arms and hold him. She wanted to kiss his brow and reassure him. “The man you shot, did he die?”

  “No. Last I heard he and the other robbers are still in prison.”

  “And the hostage?”

  “Dead. A teenage boy who’d been helping his father and uncle with inventory.”

  She drew her hand away and leaned back in her chair. They sat for a few quiet seconds while sorrow worked its way through her soul. The pain on Jacob’s face was plain, and Judith longed to comfort him.

  The waiter came and went, but still they remained silent.

  It was Jacob who finally spoke. “Did the police ever catch your mother’s killer?”

  “They found him dead in the trailer where he lived. He’d killed himself.”