by Sara Orwig
She stopped a yard away. “You're still doing it.”
“Doing what, for corn’s sake?” he asked, baffled this time.
“Watching me. You know you're watching me.”
“I'm clear across the barn!” he said, suddenly pleased that he had that kind of effect on her. “Can’t I watch you from here without disturbing you?”
“No, you can’t because you're staring. I can’t think, Jake.”
“You don’t say. Do you want me to sit up in the loft?”
“No, I don’t,” she answered evenly, and he bit back a grin. “Just turn around and look outside for Lenny Meskell.”
“I'll try to do that,” he answered, and she raised her nose in the air and stomped back to work.
He grinned and turned to watch her. As soon as she picked up a strip of lead, she looked at him. He turned to stare out the front and in seconds glanced over his shoulder to see her bent over her work. She was twisted around so that her fanny was turned toward him, and he chuckled.
He might be disturbing her, but not half as much as she was disturbing him! He glanced outside, still wondering how strong his feelings for her were and suspecting he might have fallen in love.
An hour later, Rebecca straightened up to mop her brow. Her T-shirt clung to her, the waistband of her cutoffs was damp from perspiration. The weather that had been so beautiful in early morning was a tropical heat wave now, and the whirring fans couldn’t stir the air enough to make the barn cool.
The girls played only yards away, Tara sitting on a bale of hay and coloring while Sissy was having a tea party with her doll, tiny toy dishes spread on the hay. Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw Jake stand. He opened the cooler and got the girls cold fruit drinks and then picked up two cans of cola and sauntered toward her.
“Time for a break,” Jake said, handing her a cold drink.
“Thanks,” she said, mopping her brow and accepting the chilled can to take a long drink. “I didn’t think it was possible to get this hot.”
“I've been listening to the radio. The humidity is ninety-six percent—” He broke off, and she heard the loud rumble of a motor. “What the hell?” Jake said, turning to stride toward the open doors, and Rebecca walked forward, curious who was coming up the drive.
“Stay back, Rebecca,” Jake suggested, his hand going to his back, ready to reach for his pistol.
Startled, she moved away, but she had glimpsed the delivery truck lumbering toward the house. Jake placed his hands on his hips and watched as the truck stopped at the house and a deliveryman jumped down with a package in his hand.
“Over here,” Jake called, waving at the man.
The man was short, dark-haired and thin, and bore no resemblance to Lenny Meskell. She knew Jake would want her to stay back, so she waited while Jake met the deliveryman.
“Package for R. Bolen.”
“That’s her,” Jake said.
“Can you sign?”
“Sure.” Jake scrawled R. Bolen and took the box, waiting and watching the man walk back to the truck. He studied the truck, wanting to make certain Meskell hadn’t found a way to ride past everyone.
The deliveryman jumped back behind the wheel and swung the truck around, rumbling down the drive and splashing through puddles.
Jake glanced down at the box and saw a neatly typed label addressed to R. Bolen. The return address was the Farthingwood Glass Company in San Antonio, Texas. He carried the box to Rebecca and handed it to her.
“More supplies?”
She accepted it and read the label. She began to peel away the brown paper. “It’s not anything I ordered. I don’t know a Farthingwood Glass Company.” She tore off another long strip of paper, peeling away the wrapping. A plain brown box was taped shut, a string tied around it. She placed it on the table and then picked up a knife to cut the string.
“I don’t know why a glass company would send anything to the house, anyway,” she said, sliding the blade beneath the white cord.
Jake sucked in his breath, watching her slice through the string. “Run!” he shouted at her.
He whirled around. “Tara, Sissy!” he shouted. “Run!”
“Jake—” Rebecca began, furious with him for yelling at the girls, and then she realized they were in danger. Everything inside her seemed to clench in cold fear as she ran around the table while Jake grabbed up both girls.
“Get out of here!” he shouted at Rebecca. “Run!”
She reached him and he thrust Sissy into her arms, grabbing her arm while he carried Tara and tore out of the barn. Jake was hauling them all toward the house, his long legs pumping the ground while Tara clung to him.
Rebecca’s heart felt as if it would pound out of her chest, and Sissy was crying. She ran blindly, terrified for the girls.
The blast behind them was earsplitting, shaking the earth and throwing her off her feet.
Chapter 11
Jake sprawled over the girls, his arm and leg across Rebecca. Her face was pressed into the grass, and she twisted around to see the barn explode. Boards, hay and debris flew into the air, a cloud mushrooming up and an orange tongue of flame shooting skyward.
Horrified, Rebecca scooted closer to cover Tara, protecting her own head with her arm.
Something struck her legs, and she felt a sharp sting in her back. Inches away from her face, a piece of two-by-four hit the ground.
Tara was between Jake and her, and he was shielding Sissy with his body. Both girls were crying.
Jake rolled away, looking at Rebecca. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, getting to her knees as the girls threw themselves into her arms. Sobbing, Sissy clung to her.
Shaking with reaction, Rebecca watched as what remained of the barn burned. Orange flames licked up the walls, the fire crackling while the cloud of smoke thinned and streamed overhead.
“Get the girls into the house!” Jake snapped, whipping out his pistol and his radio, holding the radio to his mouth. “Get Vance. Bomb at the Bolen place.”
While the radio crackled and Jake continued to talk to his headquarters, Rebecca picked up Sissy and took Tara’s hand, giving Jake another glance. He was covered with grass and mud and had a cut across his arm and another on his cheek.
“Woodson. We're all right,” Jake said. “Family’s heading for the house.”
She hurried toward the house with the girls, and the moment they stepped inside, Jake was behind them, still talking on his radio.
“Get them out here now!” He lowered the radio. “Wait here, Rebecca,” he said, pushing past her in the kitchen. He dropped the radio on the table and held his pistol with both hands, sprinting down the hall and disappearing from sight into a bedroom, and she realized he was checking the house for Meskell.
Rebecca hugged Sissy, who clung to her, still crying. Tara stood at the window, staring at the burning barn. Flames engulfed what was left of the structure, and Rebecca thought fleetingly of her work, which had been blown to bits.
Both girls looked terrified, and Rebecca’s knees were shaking badly. She held Sissy tightly, placing one hand on Tara’s shoulder, squeezing them as if to reassure herself that they were unharmed.
“We're all okay,” she said, trying to sound calm and hoping they would calm. All she wanted to do was hold them close and remind herself that they were safe.
“What was that, Mom?” Tara asked.
“It was a bomb,” Rebecca replied, feeling a surge of rage, because Lenny Meskell could have killed the girls. The thought made her head swim, and she felt as if she were going to be sick as her stomach rolled. She pulled Tara close, trying to fight back tears, terrified at how close her children had come to being killed.
“I'm sorry that happened,” she said. “We're all safe and Jake got us out in time and that’s what’s important.”
She hugged them, fighting to get control of her emotions as she heard the scrape of Jake’s boots behind her. He picked up the radio to talk again
, and the radio crackled as someone answered him. She wiped her eyes quickly, turning to face him.
The rage in his eyes took her aback momentarily. Her gaze ran over him swiftly, and she said a quick silent prayer of thanks that they were all safe.
Sissy wriggled, and Rebecca set her on her feet.
Glancing beyond them at the burning barn, Jake yanked out his keys. “Give me your car keys, Rebecca. That old garage will catch fire. I have to move the vehicles.”
She took the keys off a peg by the back door and Jake grabbed them, sprinting out to move his truck, pulling it up by the house, directly across from the back door. He raced back to get her car, and she prayed it would start. She watched, waiting, wondering if the battery was dead, but in minutes the car began to lurch and roll, and finally he drove up to park it behind his truck.
He came back inside and replaced her keys on the peg, jamming his into his pocket.
He looked at the girls. “Everyone all right?” he asked, hunkering down to get on Sissy’s level. He looked at Tara as both girls nodded.
“Was that a bomb in the box Mom got?” Tara asked.
Rebecca drew a deep breath, unable to stop shaking with rage. She clenched her fists while Jake nodded.
“It was, but it didn’t hurt anyone,” he said. “You can replace the barn, and even your mom’s work can be done again. The important thing is that everyone is all right. Now the fire trucks are on their way. And a lot of policemen will come look at what’s left of the barn, so everyone will have to stay in the house for a time, and out of the way.”
Both girls nodded solemnly.
“You're covered in dirt,” Sissy said, studying him.
“Your face is cut. Doesn’t it hurt?” Tara asked, and Rebecca hugged her arms to her sides, knowing they should get to satisfy their curiosity, yet finding it unbearable that they had been put in so much jeopardy.
“No, it’s just a scratch.” Jake was good at answering children’s questions. He sounded unruffled as if this weren’t an unusual occurrence.
“Did the bad man send the bomb?” Sissy asked.
“Yes, he did.”
“Was that what the man delivered from the truck?” Tara asked, and Rebecca realized they had paid attention to the arrival of the delivery truck.
“Yes, it was,” Jake answered calmly. “So from now on, when packages and mail are delivered, I'll check them over first.”
“How will you know if it’s a bomb?” Sissy persisted.
“Your mom can tell me if a package is from someone she knows or something she expected to get. If it’s not, we'll send it down to the police station and they can put it through an X-ray machine that will show what’s inside, like they do at the airport.”
Both girls nodded at that answer. Rebecca still couldn’t control her shaking. Every time she thought how close she had come to opening the box and remembering that the girls had been only several yards away, tears welled up. She walked over to switch on the air conditioner, knowing that before long there would be so many police in the yard that she wouldn’t have to worry for several hours about Lenny Meskell.
Sissy reached out to touch Jake, and he pulled her close and hugged her, stretching out his long arm to enclose Tara in the same embrace. He looked past them at Rebecca, and she drew a deep breath, wanting to hold her girls, too, and feel his strong arms around her at the same time.
He released them and studied them. “Okay now?”
“Yes, sir,” Tara answered politely.
“We're going to catch him soon,” Jake said firmly. “And if you get scared, come tell me or tell your mom. And just remember, he hasn’t gotten close to you and he didn’t hurt you today. He caused some excitement, but all of us are all right. Barns are replaceable. Okay?”
Both girls nodded.
Eventually the girls moved into the other room, after a few more minutes of being reassured that everything was okay. When they were alone, Jake’s gaze met Rebecca’s and he stood, walking over to her. He took her arm. “Come in here,” he said quietly.
He led her to her room, stepping inside and closing the door, pulling her into his arms to hold her tightly.
She wrapped her arms around him, for a moment yielding to the reassurance of his strong arms around her. And she let go of the tears she had been fighting to hold back, suddenly sobbing against his chest. “Jake, when I think what could have happened—”
“Nothing happened. And we won’t give him that chance again.”
“He came so close. All this time, I thought I was the only one really in danger, but today, that bomb would have gotten the girls.”
“It didn’t, Rebecca. That’s what you have to remember,” he said quietly, and she could hear the rage in his voice. She cried softly and Jake stroked her head, holding her tightly against him with his other arm.
“Sorry about your work, honey, but I couldn’t take the risk of tossing the bomb outside.”
“My customers will understand. Jake, how could anyone do something like that? He didn’t know who or how many people he would kill.”
“Meskell doesn’t have one shred of remorse. He’s a monster. Just concentrate on the fact that no one was hurt.” Jake held her tightly, trying to control his rage. He hoped that when he finally cornered Meskell, he resisted arrest. Jake longed for a chance at him.
Right now, he wanted to get back out to the barn, to be there when the detectives arrived, but he needed to reassure Rebecca.
She had looked as pale as snow and as if she might fly apart at any minute. He knew it wasn’t fear for herself that was undoing her. It was the thought of the girls playing so close at hand and being in danger.
He swore silently at himself again for not realizing what was in the package when she said the box wasn’t something she had ordered. He should have quizzed her about the package when he saw it was from a glass company. He should have picked up on the fact that it had been delivered to her house and not to her shop in town.
Just as she slid the knife beneath the string, he had realized what could be inside. As long as he lived, he would remember that moment of cold panic when he’d tried to get them all out of the barn and as far from it as possible.
“Jake, if I had a gun and Meskell broke in, I think I would gladly shoot him.”
“I think you would, too,” Jake said dryly. She was more of a fighter than she realized.
“Why didn’t the bomb go off in the delivery truck?”
“It was set to go when you tore it open. I’d guess when you cut the cord, it started the countdown.”
She shuddered, and he squeezed her close, wiping a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “We're both covered in grass and mud,” he said.
Her blue eyes were wide as she gazed up at him, and suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Startled, he wrapped his arms around her, relishing her soft body pressed against him, wondering what was running through her mind.
“Thank you for saving us,” she said, the words muffled because her head was buried against his chest.
“Anytime,” he said dryly.
Someone knocked on the door. Jake arched his brows questioningly as he released Rebecca and turned around to open the door. Tara gazed solemnly up, looking from one of them to the other.
“Your radio is making noises,” she said.
“Thanks,” he answered, and turned to wink at Rebecca. “Are you all right now?”
When she nodded, he strode past them down the hall.
Tara gazed solemnly at her mother. “Did Jake hug you, too?”
“Yes, he did,” she said, wondering why Tara had gone from “Mr. Delancy” to “Jake,” and wondering if he had told her to at some point.
“Did he hug you like he hugged us?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Or was it like Daddy hugged you?”
“Maybe a little of both,” Rebecca answered, knowing Tara understood a lot of things and wanting to be honest with her.
“Not yet, honey,” Rebecca said quietly. “We don’t know each other that well, and everything is so crazy right now. We'll see what our feelings are someday when things are normal.”
Tara nodded. There was still something on her mind, so Rebecca remained silent and waited for the next question.
“I like him, Mom.”
“I'm glad you do,” Rebecca replied, and meant it. Whatever happened in the future, she was glad the girls liked Jake. And she was glad he was good with them, even if it was in a professional way.
“Maybe you better wash up,” Tara said, and Rebecca smiled.
“I'll do that.”
Tara went back to the kitchen, and Rebecca went across the hall to the bathroom to study herself in the mirror. She was smudged with dirt, and Tara was bound to have guessed that she had been crying, because tears had made streaks in the dirt on her cheeks. She studied herself, thinking she didn’t look any different, yet she wondered if she would ever be the same or forget how close they had come to tragedy this afternoon.
She washed her face and then stripped down to shower, wishing she could scrub away what had happened and knowing she might have nightmares about it for a long time to come.
And the thought of nightmares made her think of Sissy. Rebecca drew a deep breath and said a small prayer. “Please don’t let the girls have nightmares. Please let them forget this. Thank you that we all survived.”
She stood under the shower, taking down her hair and washing it, hurrying because Jake might want to clean up, too. She dried, wrapped herself in a large towel and scooped up her clothes, opening the door to look up and down the hall. She heard the girls' voices from the kitchen as she rushed into her room.
Dressing in jeans and a blue cotton blouse, she hurried so that she could get back to the girls. In minutes she had returned to the bathroom and dried her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail, then gone to the kitchen. Tara was standing at the window, looking at the barn.
“The garage is burning, Mom.”
“The garage is good riddance,” she remarked, moving to the window to see the small structure blazing away, firemen pumping water on it.
