To Protect His Own

by Talty, Jen

  “You must be Jake,” the man said. “I’m Luke Cameron and that over there...” He pointed to a woman who sat in a chair next to his father’s bed. “Is Jeanie Rollins. She’s a nurse practitioner that I know and will be with your father around the clock.”

  His face was still pale, but overall, he looked better. “I don’t need around the clock care. Kenzie is the one who needs looking after.”

  “That’s what Luke and I are here for,” Jake said.

  “My nurse is ex-military, which means she’s not really here to nurse me,” his father said. “I’m not the one who needs a bodyguard.”

  “You were poisoned,” Jake said. “Doesn’t matter who you think it was meant for. It happened to you, so don’t argue with me.”

  “But—”

  “Really, Dad?” Jake held up his hand. “You asked me to come here. To help protect you and Kenzie. Let me do my job.”

  “Fine.” His father coughed a few times, then sipped water from a straw.

  “Where’s Kenzie?” Jake asked, annoyed that Luke wasn’t with her, though that wasn’t the sole reason he had hired him.

  “In her office at the barn. I’ve her set up with a panic button and she’s to report in every time she goes from one location to another,” Jake said. “She wasn’t very happy about that.”

  “I’m sure she wasn’t. Have you gone through my father’s office?”

  “Heading down there now,” Luke said. “Jeanie will be getting your father dinner.”

  “Elsie isn’t going to like that.”

  “We’ve already gotten an earful from her,” Luke said.

  “Elsie has been our cook since before I was born, but until we know what happened, everyone is suspect,” Jake said. “We have to be careful.”

  “Meet me down stairs when you can,” Luke said.

  Jake closed the door behind the two new employees. The pit in his stomach grew deeper. The last time he’d been alone with his father ended with Jake storming off the farm. “How are you feeling?” He sat in the chair that had been occupied by the nurse. Nothing had changed in his father’s room. Same pine furniture that had been passed down from his grandparents. Same pictures of the best horses the farm had produced lined the walls. Same light grey comforter on the bed.

  “Not great,” his father croaked out. “I don’t like Kenzie in the barn alone.”

  “Let me worry about her,” Jake said. “You worry about getting better.”

  His father stared at him for a long, awkward moment. They were essentially strangers, yet sitting with him now, he felt a sense of belonging that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He felt the same way around Kenzie.

  “I really am glad you’re here,” his father said.

  “Kenzie told me you were going to reach out to me before you collapsed.” After ten years of not saying a single word to each other, Jake didn’t feel small talk to be appropriate. Especially since he had no idea how long his father had left, and by the looks of his pale skin, frail body, and sunken face, Jake assumed it wasn’t very long.

  “I was.” His hands shook as he brought a glass with a straw to his mouth and took a slow sip.

  Jake couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen his father weak and vulnerable. He’d been a hard ass for as long as Jake could remember. Always beating into him that in order to be respected, one had to give respect, but when in a position of power, you never showed your weakness. Weakness equaled failure.

  “It was hard for me to hear you didn’t want this farm,” Ethan said. “It meant so much to your mother, I assumed it would mean the same to you.”

  “The farm meant more to you than it did to either of us,” Jake said. “I gave running the farm a try, just like you asked. For as long as you asked. When I found out about Mom, I knew I couldn’t do it any longer and it wasn’t just about the lies. I was miserable here.”

  “Never acted miserable and you had Kenzie. She made you happy.”

  “You both lied to me,” Jake said.

  “I made a mistake,” his father said, his voice getting weaker. “I was wrong. I should have told you when you were old enough to understand. I can’t take back what I did, but can’t we start fresh now? I know Kenzie told you about the cancer.”

  “We’ll talk about that later.”

  “Nothing to talk about,” he said. “This is not how I wanted to tell you. I wanted a chance to mend things first. I didn’t want you feeling obligated to be around me because I’m dying.”

  Jake rubbed his temples. His weapon pressing into his aching ribs. “I want to talk to your doctors.”

  “There is no point,” his father said. “I want you to know I am proud of you. That uniform suits you.”

  “It’s who I am.” For now, he’d let his father redirect the conversation.

  “I’ve heard you’re a damn good Trooper.”

  “Better at it than running this farm,” Jake said.

  “You ran this farm very well. I know you screwed it up just to prove a point.”

  Jake laughed. “I did. But I couldn’t give this farm, this land, the kind of dedication and love that it deserves.”

  “I know that now. That’s what I wanted to tell you. My biggest regret is that it took me being sick and Kenzie to become pregnant for me to realize I’ve been a miserable old fool without you around. I’ve missed you,” he whispered, then coughed.

  Jake wanted to believe every word his father said. He did believe it. But the circumstances of his return tainted everything.

  “Take care of Kenzie,” his father said in a shaky voice as he slid lower in the bed. “Watch over her and her baby.”

  “It’s my baby, to.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” he said, his voice raspy. “She didn’t think you would and I’ve taught her to be as stubborn and prideful as we are, believing she can handle all this own her own.”

  Jake let out a soft chuckle. “Dad, she actually can handle all this own her own.”

  His father turned his head. “She shouldn’t have too. You may not love her anymore. You may still hate me. But don’t make the same mistakes with your own flesh and blood. It’s not worth it.”

  “I’m here,” Jake said. The tightness in his throat was hard to swallow. “I wouldn’t turn my back on my child.” He hadn’t meant the words to sound so cruel, but the hurt etched on his father’s face told him the damage had been done. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  His father nodded. “But it’s true. I did turn my back on you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Do me one favor?” Jake leaned over, holding his father’s shoulder. “Don’t give up the fight now. If not for me. Kenzie. If not her, the baby. Just fight a little while longer.” He kissed his father’s cold and clammy forehead.

  “I don’t think I’ve got any fight left in me after this poisoning.”

  Jake squeezed his father’s shoulder. “You’ll be bossing everyone around in no time,” he said. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  By the rhythmic rise and fall of his father’s chest, Jake figured his final words had fallen on deaf ears. He stood a moment, staring at his frail and fragile father, Kenzie’s many pleas about not waiting until it was too late echoed in his brain.

  Jake gently closed the door to his father’s room and headed down the stairs and toward his father’s office. It had been ten years since the fight that tore him and his father apart. Nine and a half since he’d returned once, demanding Kenzie come with him.

  As he walked through the living room, he noted a few subtle changes, but one in particular threw him into a sour mood. His mother’s portrait, which had hung over the fireplace, had been removed and replaced with a photo of his grandparents, both mounted on thoroughbreds. He stopped in front of the fireplace, running his fingers across the wood mantle as he eyed the beautiful black and white. That spot had always been for his mother. Jake only had a few memories from his four short years with her. Most were good memories, like when she’d take him down to
the barn for his riding lessons and she’d sit on the post, cheering him on.

  Now his father was a sick and dying man and his mother a faint memory.

  Jake turned into the second hallway, past the dining room and to the final door on the right before the servant’s entrance to the kitchen. Luke sat behind his father’s desk, rummaging through the drawers, pulling out files and thumbing through them.

  Luke put a finger across his lips, then pointed to small reading lamp on the desk.

  Jake didn’t need to be a PI to know that there was a bug in that lamp. He carefully surveyed the office, which had wall to ceiling bookshelves, though most of them were lined with pictures. Pictures of him when he was younger and competing in different events, mostly bull riding and roping. As he made his way toward the back of the office and stood behind his father’s desk, a sudden tightening of his heart took his breath momentarily. He reached out, touching the frame that held a picture of him in his SCUBA gear that had been from an article about the State Police and their rescue swimmer program. The picture had been taken six years ago when he’d become a team leader.

  Another blip in his pulse when he turned to see more pictures, mostly of him and Kenzie. But some were articles and images of him taken over the years as a State Trooper, most notably, his mug shot from the day he graduated from the Academy. He hated that picture. But there it was, prominently displayed on his father’s shelves.

  Luke motioned for Jake to go out the back door. Before stepping outside, Jake made sure his father’s office was locked.

  Once outside, and a good twenty paces from the house, Luke said, “I literally just found that bug five minutes before you walked in.”

  “Had you searched the office before this?”

  Luke shook his head. “Do you know who has access to the main house?”

  “Half the farm,” Jake admitted. “But very few people have access to my father’s office. He generally keeps it locked.”

  “Who has keys?”

  “I would guess him and maybe Kenzie,” Jake said. “He meets with a lot of people, though."

  “Jacob Nathanael Prichard,” Elsie’s voice shrilled through the humid air. “You breezed right past my kitchen and didn’t even stop in to say hello.”

  “Hello.” He turned and smiled. “You haven't changed one bit,” he said. “Still the prettiest woman here.”

  “Oh, stop.” She waved her plump hand in the air. She had to be at least seventy years old by now. Her black hair had turned almost completely grey. She’d put on a few pounds to her already heavy frame, but she had a smile that could make anyone happy. “Your father told me you’d become a police officer, but look at you all decked out in a uniform. Oy. So handsome.”

  “This is Luke, a friend of—”

  “Everyone is talking about the ‘investigator’ and frankly glad he’s here. Terrible thing what happened to Mr. Prichard. Can’t image how that happened or why anyone would do such a thing. We’re all very concerned for everyone’s safety.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Jake said. “And why I hired Luke.”

  Her lips pursed, scrunching her already wrinkled face. “I thought you were here because you and Kenzie are back together. Everyone is talking about how you’re staying with her.”

  “There is that, too.” That is exactly what Jake wanted everyone to think. “Guess you can’t keep anything quiet in this place.”

  An odd tone rang out from inside Luke’s pocket. “I’ve got to take this,” he said. “It was nice to meet you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit down with you tomorrow and ask you a few questions.”

  “I’ll be in the kitchen all day,” Elsie said.

  “See you tomorrow.” Luke waved. “Jake, I know Kenzie really needed to talk with you.”

  “Okay,” Jake said. “See you later, Elsie.”

  He followed Luke, who walked briskly, but never took out his phone. He looked once over his shoulder and then took off. “That was the S.O.S. I gave Kenzie.”

  “Shit.” Jake broke out in a full run, passing Luke in seconds.

  * * *

  “Boots,” Kenzie said between heaving gasps as she tried to fill her lungs. She’d had the wind knocked out of her a few times, and she knew this would pass, but until then, she couldn’t get enough air. She clutched her stomach. Boots hadn’t meant to do it. She figured that as soon as she saw the trickle of blood underneath Jake’s saddle. “Re…ee..lax.”

  Boots looked down at her, nudging closer, but then whatever was digging into him must have shifted and the horse bucked again.

  She curled up in a tight ball in the corner while the horse kicked out his hind legs, turning in a frantic circle. Her breathe came in short labored pants. She knew it would only be a few more minutes before she’d be able to catch her breath and approach the horse, but she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.

  “Boots!” Jake's voice startled the horse.

  The horse momentarily stopped bucking, looking between her and Jake. Boots let out a long neigh as he nodded toward the stall.

  “Get the…saddle…” she said between pants, “…off him.”

  “Take it easy there?” Jake held his hands to the side as he eased between Boots and Kenzie. Boots started bucking again. “Whoa, old man, settle down.”

  “Saddle.” She pointed. “Cutting him.” Her breathing slowly returned to normal.

  “Luke,” Jake said. “Check on Kenzie. She’s in the back corner of the barn.”

  Boots continued to kick.

  “Easy boy.” Jake stepped closer.

  “Be careful,” she called, watching in horror as he reached out and grabbed the buckle. Boots swiveled and Jake had to duck in order to miss having two hooves smack him in the face.

  “Over here, Boots.” Jake maneuvered himself to the right side of the horse, reaching under his belly and pulling at the buckle. This time the saddle slid off the horse who immediately stopped kicking.

  “There now, it’s okay,” he said, patting the horse. “Kenzie? Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.” She took Luke’s hand and tentatively took a few steps. Her back ached from being tossed to the ground, her breath still short and choppy.

  “Get her into the office so I can get Boots into his stall.”

  But Boots had other plans. When Luke walked by, the horse nudged him hard enough to push him five paces backward. Then Boots stuck his nose against Kenzie's chest, sighing and snorting.

  “That’s one territorial horse,” Luke said.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered giving Boots a kiss on the nose. “Go on.”

  Boots nodded and then let Jake lead him to the stall.

  “What happened?” Luke asked as he helped her into her office chair, getting her a cup of water.

  “Something on the saddle cut him and he did what any horse would do, he bucked.”

  “Did he kick you?” Jake yelled from across the barn.

  “No,” she said. “But he did knock me down.” She breathed slowly, her lungs burned. “Fell on my back and got the wind knocked out of me.” Small squiggly lines still danced in her vision, but they’d subsided some.

  Luke turned the radio on, which she thought was odd. “Is that your saddle?” Luke asked softly, pressing his finger to his lips. She knew that meant be quiet, but she wasn’t sure why.

  “No,” Jake said. “It's mine.”

  “I was going to walk him while we waited for Jake to get home to give him a ride.” She kept her voice soft.

  Jake held out the saddle. “I’m going to have to call this in.” He pointed to a shiny metal object sticking out of the leather saddle. “I don’t think a large chunk of a razor knife randomly shows up wedged in a saddle.”

  Luke leaned in to get a better look and shook his head.

  “I use that saddle all the time,” Kenzie said. “Only way Boots will let me ride him.”

  “I’ll call my boss,” Jake said. “I think Frank is on patrol. Or maybe th
e new guy, but I’m taking Kenzie to the hospital. Now.”

  “I’ll take care of things here,” Luke said.

  “I think we should call the doctor first,” she said. “Might not want me to go to the ER.”

  Jake tilted his head. “You can call him on the way there and tell him we’re coming.”

  “My doctor is a she.”

  “Whatever. You’re going.” He turned, tapping at his cell phone.

  She rolled her eyes, but also knew it was better to be safe than sorry, and she wasn’t going to argue with him. Her bigger concern, however, was this was a second attempt at hurting her, and that rattled her bones.

  Luke looked around the office, pulling out drawers, looking in the desk lamp, inside the filing cabinet.

  “Frank is on his way,” Jake said as he stepped back into the office.

  Luke handed Jake a piece of paper and Jake just nodded.

  “Let’s go,” Jake said as he waltzed around the desk. Before she could brace herself to stand, he scooped her into his arms, groaning slightly as he shifted his weight.

  “Put me—”

  “Shush,” he said quietly. ‘Trust me,’ he mouthed.

  She clasped her hands behind his neck as he easily carried her out of the barn and toward the cabin, which was about a five-minute walk, maybe less at his brisk pace. The first two minutes were in silence while she found the right words to put him in his place. She opened her mouth to do so, but he ended up speaking first.

  “Luke found a bug in your father’s office,” he said quietly. “We don’t know if there was one in the barn, so he’s looking for it now. We don’t know where the bug came from or even if it was planted by whoever poisoned my dad.”

  “Who else would do that?”

  “No idea. My best guess would be that whoever tried to kill dad, also planted the bug, but it's a guess.”

  “Oh.” She shuddered, gripping his neck tighter. “How long do you think someone has been listening?”

  “Long enough to know you’re pregnant,” he said. “I take it you mentioned me by name when you told Dad.”