Calamity Jena

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  Frank waved a hand in disgust, oblivious to the fact he was skirting close to death. “Get out of here. Do the job you’re being paid for. If this hadn’t been last minute I woulda had time to hire a decent crew. Guys who knew what they were doing. We’re on the clock. No more excuses. Get me the girl.” With a flick of his hand, they were dismissed.

  Without a word, Joe and Grunt left Frank to his pacing. Once outside Frank’s room, Joe’s demeanour turned murderous.

  “I would seriously love to pour some concrete around that little shit’s ankles and drop him into the loch.”

  Grunt couldn’t disagree. They went into Joe’s room, where Grunt sat in the only armchair and stretched his legs out. Joe handed him a beer from the mini-fridge. Grunt grunted his thanks. Joe seemed to deflate as he plopped down on the edge of the bed.

  “This is falling apart around our ears,” Joe said. “This guy is losing control. If we’re not careful, we’ll go down with him.” He ran a hand over his military-short hair. “I thought this job would be a breeze. Instead we’re likely to get locked up in a foreign jail because we’re taking orders from a moron. We should walk. While we still can.”

  Grunt took a large swallow of cold beer. “What about Jena? Frank’s losing it big time. We can’t trust him with her.”

  “If we see this through. It means kidnapping her for Frank. You ready to face kidnapping charges if this goes south?”

  “I like to think of it as borrowing.”

  “Borrowing?”

  “Yeah.” He finished his beer and put the empty bottle on the table beside him. “We take her. We put her back. Borrowing. Not kidnapping.”

  Joe scratched his belly. “I got a bad feeling about this.” He let out a sigh. “I also don’t think we have a choice.”

  “We could tell the cop. Give him a heads-up.”

  “What will he do? He’s already powerless against Frank. Until Frank breaks the law, the cop’s hands are tied. All he can do is stand between Frank and Jena, looking mean. If we tell him, we tip our hand with Frank, then this gig really is over. Who’ll look out for Jena if Frank decides to persuade her with his fists? No. We can’t risk telling anyone.”

  They stared into nothing for a while, each with their own thoughts.

  “Guess we’re borrowing Jena, then,” Grunt said.

  “Yeah, years in the marines have come down to this—aiding and abetting an asshole.”

  “So we have a plan?”

  “We have a plan. We’re going to kidnap a cop’s girlfriend for a guy who’s in thick with the New Jersey mob. It’s a great plan. Not dumb at all.”

  “Borrow a cop’s girlfriend,” Grunt amended.

  Joe rolled his eyes before fetching more beer. “Hope your woman is the understanding sort. Last time I checked, women frowned upon their men kidnapping other women. Especially the women that belong to their brothers.”

  “She’ll never find out.”

  Grunt finished his beer to the sound of Joe’s laughter.

  Matt woke to find himself pinned by a snoring Jena. She was sprawled over him, her head tucked under his chin, one hand in his hair, the other curved around his body. She had one knee cocked over him, the other leg snuggled at his side. Matt ran his hand down the curve of her back to her glorious backside. She let out a loud snort and Matt shook with laughter as he fought not to make any noise.

  “Lie still,” she grumbled, her voice hoarse with sleep. “Go back to sleep. Let me go back to sleep too.”

  “I would, princess, but I can’t sleep through your snoring.”

  Her head came up and sleepy blue eyes tried to glare at him. “I don’t snore.”

  He couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “You sound like a pig snuffling out truffles.”

  She moved her hand and pinched his side. He jerked, almost toppling her. “I’m not a pig, Matthew Donaldson, and I don’t snore.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she narrowed her eyes at him. Man, she was cute.

  “If you ever want to get lucky again, you’ll think about what you’re going to say before you open your mouth.”

  He grinned widely. “My mistake. You definitely don’t snore.”

  “Darn tootin’.” She let her head fall back against his chest as she snuggled against him.

  “You know,” Matt said, “threatening to cut me off isn’t going to work. You were the one who jumped me. I’m irresistible.”

  She grunted. “Not so much. Let’s see how long that cocky attitude lasts when you have to wait until I’m in the mood.”

  He looked down at her. The smile on her face made his chest swell. “How often are you in the mood?”

  Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at him. “I could be in the mood very soon if you made me breakfast in bed.”

  “This is your house. I’m the guest. Shouldn’t you be feeding me?”

  She stuck her cute little nose in the air, sniffed, then dismissed him with a haughty look. “Guess I’ll have to get in the mood another time, then.”

  “Minx.” Matt’s stomach betrayed him. He’d woken it up with all the talk of food. It let out a loud, betraying rumble that made Jena giggle.

  “Give me a kiss and I’ll fetch food.” He faked a longsuffering sigh.

  “Sheesh, is nothing free?” She lifted her head, shut her eyes and puckered her lips.

  Matt chuckled at the lack of effort before flipping her onto her back and claiming her mouth. His desire was amped by the way she melted into him. He captured a delicious little moan of need before his belly protested again.

  Jena broke the kiss. “Feed me. Feed your stomach.” She pushed him away.

  “Fine, but you’re showering with me after we eat. I’m fed up braving that ice water of yours all on my own.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I can think of a few ways we can heat it up.”

  “Go away,” she mumbled as she snuggled down under the duvet. “Sleeping here.”

  With a shake of his head, Matt pulled on his jeans and T-shirt before heading to the kitchen.

  As he passed the living room, he heard his phone ringing where he’d left it beside the pull-out bed. It was his mum.

  “There’s been an accident. Your dad fell out of bed and broke his hip. They’re taking him to the hospital.” The worry and fear in his mother’s voice brought out all of Matt’s instinct to protect.

  “We’ll be right there. I’ll get the twins. Don’t worry, Mum. He’s tough. He’ll be okay.”

  “Aye.” She didn’t sound convinced. “See you soon, son.”

  Matt hung up the phone and dialled his sisters, and told them he’d swing by to pick them up. He then ran up the stairs to tell Jena breakfast was postponed.

  She was sprawled across the bed on her stomach, her head under a pillow. He lifted the pillow.

  “Go away,” she grumbled. “I don’t smell coffee or food. Come back when you have both.”

  “Breakfast will have to wait, princess. I got a call. Dad’s in hospital. He fell out of bed and broke his hip.”

  She sat up, rubbed her eyes and blinked up at him. “What can I do?”

  His chest unclenched. He ran a finger down her cheek. “Nothing you can do. I’m going to Fort William to see what’s happening. I need to drop you off at Abby’s house. Is that okay?”

  “Sure thing.” She clambered over the bed. “I’ll get ready fast.”

  “That’s my girl.” He grabbed hold of her for a quick kiss as she headed to the bathroom.

  24

  Jena felt bad that she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She tried to, she really did, but it was like it was stuck there with superglue.

  “You’re making me nauseous,” Abby grumbled.

  After a day of helping Abby around the mushroom farm and looking after her delightful, but hyperactive, four-year-old, Jena was in need of a relaxed evening. Matt was still at the hospital with his family. His father’s broken hip was being operated on to replace the shattered bone. They would be gone
for hours yet. Jena wished she was at the hospital with them, although she knew she would be of little use.

  Still, she was pleased to be able to spend time with Abby now that Katy was in bed. They relaxed at her kitchen table for a sumptuous Sunday night feast—complete with wine and chocolate cheesecake. Katy was fast asleep. Pete, the guard Lake had provided while Matt was gone, was standing by the window. Far enough away to allow the women privacy but close enough so he could keep an eye on them and on the driveway leading up to the house.

  “If you feel nauseous, does that mean I get to eat all of the cheesecake?”

  “No. It means I get all of the cake, because you are so obviously getting something else.”

  Jena blushed even though she made a conscious effort not to. Abby pointed a fork at her.

  “I’m hating you right now. You could be a bit less obvious about the fact you spent a night in Matt’s bed.”

  “Technically, it was my bed.” She shovelled more cake into her mouth.

  “I miss having a man,” Abby said on a sigh. She put her elbows on the table in front of her and perched her chin on her hands.

  Jena eyed the bottle of wine and mentally calculated how much Abby had drunk—enough to loosen her lips.

  “Are we talking about having in the biblical sense, or having as in ‘he’d be useful around the house’?”

  “Both.” Abby reached for the wine and topped up her glass. “I’ve been thinking lately that I might be ready to start dating again.” She gave Jena a cautious glance to catch her reaction.

  “That’s great, honey.” Jena patted her hand. “Remember, you don’t need to rush it. Take your time. Don’t push yourself.”

  “Ha! Says the woman who’s had more dates in the past four months than I’ve had in a lifetime.”

  “You should listen to me. I know what I’m talking about. I’m an expert on dating without becoming attached.” She took the hair tie off her wrist and wrapped her hair up in a messy knot on the top of her head. “I don’t want a relationship. Not after the disastrous one I had with Frank. Nope, one-date wonder is a great way to be.”

  Abby laughed so hard, Jena was worried about her falling off the chair.

  “Jena, you dolt. You’re in a relationship right now.” Abby put her hand on Jena’s arm. “Matt is living with you. He’s sleeping with you. You do your grocery shopping together. He’s renovating your house. He’s made it clear to anyone who asks that you’re an item. You need to shake that dippy little head of yours and wake up. You have a boyfriend.”

  “No, I don’t.” Jena folded her arms over her Snoopy sweatshirt and frowned. “As soon as Frank leaves, Matt will go back to his own house. We aren’t living together. We’re just—convenient.”

  “I bet ten pounds you’re married to him before you even realise it’s happening.”

  “That’s the bet going at the pub,” Pete piped up.

  Jena glared at him. “You said you couldn’t hear anything from over there.”

  “I lied.” He grinned. “I put twenty pounds on the wedding happening within the next two months. Dougal bet Matt would have you married without even proposing.”

  “This town has got to stop betting on me.”

  “At least they’re not betting on when Matt will get injured,” Abby said with a smile. “I haven’t heard anyone call you Calamity in ages—well, at least two days, anyway.”

  Jena threw up her hands. “Oh well, then, I’ll consider myself blessed. Has anyone even asked if I want to marry Matt?”

  “Sweetie,” Abby said, “everyone knows you’re gun-shy after what happened with Frank. The general consensus is you won’t admit to being in love, or to wanting a permanent relationship—that’s why he has to slip in under your radar.”

  “I’m not in a relationship and I’m definitely not in love!”

  “See?” Abby said to Pete.

  “Aye, they were right,” Pete said.

  “That’s it. Time to change the topic, before I kill my best friend. Did Magenta check the mine for you?”

  “Yes. She didn’t find any sign of anyone having been in there. She did find some old explosives, which she removed. So it wasn’t a wasted venture. She’s calling in a crew to go through all of the tunnels with a fine-tooth comb, just in case there are more explosives tucked away in there. Apart from that, she thinks I may have heard some rats fighting, but she could have been saying that because Harry was with her. He still goes grey at the mention of a rat.”

  “What about the missing stuff? Anything moved mysteriously recently?”

  Abby shook her head. “I think it was my imagination. I haven’t slept at all well since David died.”

  “No,” Jena said, “I don’t imagine you have.”

  “It’s getting better,” Abby said softly, as though speaking to herself.

  Jena reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand.

  “Someone’s coming up the drive,” Pete called from his post by the window. “I don’t recognise the car. Are you expecting someone, Abby?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll answer the door,” Pete said. “If it’s Frank or his goons, I’ll get rid of them.”

  Jena sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I don’t know why they think I need to be protected from Frank. What’s he going to do? Beg me to death? Whine me into submission? There isn’t a lot the guy can do over here. I have my own life and he has no power or influence over it. This is insane.”

  “No, it’s Matt being Matt. He’s almost Neanderthal in his need to protect.”

  “He’s nuts. This is nuts.”

  They turned towards the door as Pete appeared. “It’s your mother, Jena. I let her in.”

  Before Jena could even process those words, her mother pushed past Pete and into the kitchen. She cocked her head towards Abby.

  “So this is another one of your friends you won’t introduce me to.”

  Jena took a deep breath and reminded herself she was brave and didn’t care about consequences. She faced her mother. “Mom, you can’t just barge in here. This isn’t my house.”

  “It’s fine.” Abby ruined the reprimand with her ingrained polite behaviour. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Morgan. Please have a seat and I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

  “It’s Ms Mona Sage, and I’d rather have some of that wine.” Jena’s mother hooked her black suede bag on the back of a kitchen chair. “I never married Jena’s father. It was a one-night stand.” She sat down and crossed her leather-covered legs. This time her trousers were white, and she’d matched them with an off-the-shoulder black and white striped sweater. The kind of sweater Jena could only dream of being able to afford. “Actually,” her mother said, “it was a one-afternoon stand. I gave it up on his office couch for the promise of a recording career. Instead of fame and fortune, I got Jena.”

  “Mom!” Jena felt humiliation burn her cheeks.

  “What?” her mother said. “It’s no secret.”

  “It’s the way you tell the story, as though you regret having me.”

  Her mother’s silence spoke volumes. Jena fought not to let it sting. She was over letting her mother get to her. She’d made a dramatic bonfire to prove it.

  “What are you wearing, Jena? Children wear Snoopy sweaters. That shape adds at least ten pounds to your frame. Pounds you can’t afford to add.”

  “If you’re here to be rude, Mom, you can turn around and go back to town. I like this sweater. It’s cute. I may not look like an emaciated waif, but I’m nowhere near fat.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Abby placed a glass in front of Mona and topped it up with wine.

  Jena’s mother scowled. “What’s gotten into you? You’re never usually this confrontational.”

  “I’m not trying to be confrontational,” Jena said. “I’m trying to be honest.”

  Her mother laughed coldly. “Good luck with that.”

  “Why are you here, Mom? Is there a reason you tracked me down to Abby’s home
?”

  “Yeah, there’s a reason. I flew across an ocean to see my daughter, and she’s never around. I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me.”

  Jena shook her head as she smiled. “You didn’t fly across the ocean to see me. You came to see Josh.”

  Her mother spread her arms wide. “Am I wrong to want to take advantage of every opportunity that comes my way?”

  Jena massaged her temples. The tension of dealing with her mother was morphing into a full-blown headache. Without a word, Abby got up, fetched a bottle of aspirin from the cupboard and placed it on the table in front of Jena. With a smile of thanks, she swallowed two. Jena leaned forward, placing her hands on the table.

  “We’ve been over this. I’m not introducing you to Josh and Mitch, Mom. This is their home. They don’t like strangers accosting them. They want to live here like normal people. Anyway, I thought Frank was helping you. Isn’t that what last night’s chat was all about?”

  “Listen to yourself. So selfish.” Her mother sneered. “What kind of daughter did I raise?”

  Jena took a deep breath. “You didn’t raise me at all, Mom. I did it myself while you were touring, or playing gigs, or hanging out with your latest boyfriend.”

  Mona narrowed her eyes as Jena’s heart raced. She couldn’t ever remember a time when she’d talked to her mom like this. Usually at the first sign of confrontation she agreed or ran, desperate not to jeopardise what little love she was given. Standing her ground was hard. Hard and painful.

  “You’re right. I don’t need you to introduce me to Josh. Frank will do it. Dougal has been helping as well. He texts me when there’s been a Josh sighting so I can get there in time. See, this is what we’ve come to. My own flesh and blood won’t help me, so I have to rely on strangers.”

  Jena glanced at Abby and saw she was fighting a grin. It took all of Jena’s self-control not to laugh. Dougal was brilliant. She bet he was having a blast sending her mother on a wild goose chase throughout Invertary.

  “I’m glad you’ve got it sorted without me,” she said.

  “I didn’t come here to talk about Josh anyway,” her mom said. “I know you don’t care enough to help me with him. You’ve made it perfectly clear. I came to tell you to get your ass in gear and patch things up with Frank. That man has the patience of a saint, but he isn’t going to wait forever for you to make up your mind whether you want him or not.”