The information Jason had found for her had been a wonderful surprise, and she’d have to find a way to thank him for it. He’d given her a precious gift, far more precious than the tacky ring Sam had given her—a ring that had belonged to someone else. Nothing could have made her feel better than knowing her father had loved her. Discovering Thomas Lincoln had wanted her dead had been a bitter blow, but now, there was no pain just anger. She didn’t doubt for a moment the man had stolen from her. She remembered how red he’d gotten when she’d told him she’d be handling her own finances. She’d cornered him like a rat in a trap. If she took over her financial affairs, his larceny would be discovered. He was probably trying to cover his tracks right now.
She snuggled deeper into the covers and let her thoughts run back to Jason. She knew he’d spent the night entertaining her because it was part of his job, but she enjoyed his company. He had a quick wit and some of his comments during the movie had been more apropos than the actors’ lines. He was also kind and sensitive, even explaining the gory details about her finger with care. She couldn’t wait to see how he would soothe Mandy’s ruffled feathers on Halloween. Nikki yawned. He was a very nice man, far nicer than the man she’d married. If she could pick a man she’d like in her life, he would be at the top of the list. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
She stares out at the ocean. This is exactly the right place. There’s no one around to mar her solitude or interfere with the landscape she wants to paint. She hasn’t spent a lot of time in LA, but she can’t spend another moment cooped up in the hotel room. He’ll probably be angry, but he’s angry all the time these days, and she never knows what will set him off next.
The artist in her appreciates the beauty of nature, but a small part of her misses her friends and the life she had before. She loves to paint, but how can she paint if she can’t see the model she wants to reproduce? He doesn’t understand that computer images and photographs don’t work. She needs to be outside, breathing in the scent of the scenery she’ll recreate.
After she sets up the portable easel, she sits on the stool in front of it and chooses the charcoal pencil she’ll need to draw the scene. The wind is brisk, and the ocean is in turmoil, much as her life has been lately. The waves lap the shore and then rush out to sea again. The rock cliff over to her far left stands alone, majestic, its granite face laughing at the water that seeks to wash it away.
The sun is starting to set. She’ll have to work fast to capture the images. She’ll make notes on the canvas to remember the shades and colors of the sky and the clouds decorating it. The sun will be the brightest orange she can find. The other colors will change as she draws, but this moment is seared in her mind.
She begins to sketch as quickly as she can, moving right to left across her canvas, ignoring a bird here, a small boat there. When she moves her gaze to the far left, she stops. The landscape has changed. A man stands at the edge of the bluff, sentinel-like, the wind blowing at his hair and his clothes. But like the rock itself, he doesn’t move. For a moment she’s angry, wondering if she can capture the bluff and block him out, but something about him calls to her soul. She can feel his pain, his loneliness. He’s suffered and yet, he won’t give up. She’s compelled to draw him.
In the hotel room once more, she paints long into the night, and falls asleep in front of her masterpiece.
The scene shifts, the painting lies on the floor, brushes and bottles of paint scattered around it. The faceless man yells at her, obscenities she doesn’t want to hear. She covers her ears, but he yanks her hands away.
“I asked you who he is,” the man yells,
“I don’t know. He’s nobody.”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay here? Why can’t you ever listen?
“I was lonely. I wanted something to do.”
“So you went and found a man.”
“No. I went to paint. I’m an artist, you know that. Painting is in my soul.”
“You’re a tramp, hanging around with every unsavory character you find. Get rid of it, or I’ll destroy it. You’re not to paint anything like it again. Do you understand?”
She nods; tears roll down her cheeks. She moves to clean up the mess, but he grabs her by the hair and pulls her up.
“Leave it.”
He drags her away. She doesn’t want to go, but she’s too cowed by his anger to fight him. Someone’s calling her name, pulling her toward him, away from here, from the angry man, from the pain she’s sure will follow.
* * *
“Nikki, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
Jason shook her arm gently. He’d turned on the bedside lamp, hoping the light wouldn’t wake Mandy a few feet away. He’d rushed in at Nikki’s cries to find her moving wildly in the bed as if she were trying to get away from someone.
“Come on, wake up,” he pleaded. Seeing her suffer like this ripped his heart out.
“Jason?” She blinked her tear-filled eyes at him. She was confused and then seemed to realize where she was.
“It’s okay. It was just a bad dream.”
Nikki shook her head. “No. I’ve had bad dreams before. This was different. I remember it—well, I remember some of it. Your painting. It’s one of mine. I painted it. I saw myself doing it. That stretch of land is just outside the city.”
“I don’t understand. If you painted it, why didn’t you sign it? Anything with your name sells for twenty times what I paid for it.”
“I never got to sign it. I fell asleep. He came back and found me in front of the piece. He was so angry that I’d disobeyed him. I’d left the hotel and gone off on my own.”
“Who was angry?”
“I don’t know. A man—my father maybe or Sam—I didn’t see a face. He told me to get rid of it or he’d destroy it.”
Jason sat on the side of the bed and pulled her into his arms. “If you say you painted it, then I believe you. If this was a memory—and since you remember it so clearly it could be—maybe those bad dreams you don’t remember are just that.”
“Where did you get the painting?”
“From a small place in Venice Beach—half pawn shop, half who knows what. I went back a couple of times looking for others, but I never found anything.”
She didn’t comment. Instead, she burrowed into him as if she was afraid he’d vanish if she didn’t hold on tightly.
He sat there holding her, the beating of his heart loud in his ears. Her breathing ease as she relaxed. If she was starting to remember events from her past, he hoped her mind would spare her some of the gorier details. The man in her dreams must’ve been Sam. She’d have been married when Jason bought the painting. It wouldn’t have sat in that shop very long.
Jason had visited the clinic a few times when he’d arrived in Larosa. Most of the time, the doctor had been open and friendly. When a male patient in the waiting room had tried to chat up the “hot, new nurse” who’d been Nikki, Sam Hart had done an abrupt face. He’d been terse and angry, and everyone in the waiting room had felt it. Maybe the guy had a Jekyll and Hyde personality. Abusers rarely showed their true colors. Some of them could charm the birds out of the trees and then … No one at San Francisco General had come right out and said it, but he’d gotten the impression that, while they applauded the doctor’s skills, they didn’t like the man. When a man had no friends, it said a lot about him.
Jason suppressed his indignation and looked down at the woman in his arms. No one would hurt her again.
“Do you want to go to the bathroom or anything before I tuck you in for the rest of the night?”
“No, but please don’t leave me yet. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Your wish is my command. I need to get some shut-eye though—we both do. How about if I stretch out here beside you for a little while until you fall asleep?”
She nodded and moved out of his arms to shift into the center of the bed. He turned out the light and settled on the mattress b
eside her, not touching her but close enough to feel the heat of her body.
“Go to sleep, Nikki. I’m not going anywhere. No one’s going to hurt you as long as I’m around.”
“I appreciate this. You’re a nice man, Jason. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
And just like that guilt bit him in the ass again.
* * *
Nikki glanced at the clock as the sound of Jason and Nathan returning from a supply run echoed through the house. Angie and Troy had manned the fort, while Cassie had taken a nap. She and Mandy had done some schoolwork and read a few stories, including the ever-popular Drummer Hoff, although The Poky Little Puppy was quickly becoming a favorite.
Mandy had been on pins and needles waiting for her Halloween surprise.
“They’re back, Mommy,” she cried, bouncing on the bed, a smile lighting up her face.
“Hello, ladies,” Jason said, coming into the room. “Happy Halloween, munchkin.” He placed a round hatbox decorated in orange paper with a black bow on the bed in front of her. “Unwrap it carefully. It’s breakable.”
The concentration on her daughter’s face was almost as intense as the anticipation on Jason’s. Whatever was in this box was as important to him as it was to Mandy.
The little girl undid the ribbon and lifted the lid. Her joyous squeal was ear-piercing. She looked at Jason, her eyes the size of saucers. A few sharp yips erupted from the box.
“Mommy, it’s a puppy, just like the one I wanted. Is it mine for real?” she asked, her eyes begging Jason to say yes.
“Yes, it is.” He turned his pleading eyes on Nikki and she could see him begging her not to shoot him down. How could she? It was the perfect gift. She nodded. She would thank him later.
Jason reached out and pulled one of Mandy’s pigtails as he often did.
“It’s a gift from your mommy and me. Next year, he’ll be big enough to go trick or treating with you. You’ll have to help take care of him. He’s just a baby. He’ll need to be taught the rules, but most of all, he’ll need to be loved. Do you think you can do that?”
Mandy nodded vigorously.
Nikki cleared her throat as Mandy reached into the box, and pulled out the tiny Sheltie puppy. She carefully examined her prize.
“He’s perfect.” Happiness radiated on her face.
How could Sam have denied her something that made her this happy? More importantly, why hadn’t she fought harder for it, for her? She had no answer to that question, but she knew she’d never let Mandy down again.
“Does the puppy have a name?” Mandy asked.
“No, sweetie. You get to choose one for him. Can you think of a good, strong name for the puppy?”
“Is it a boy puppy or a girl?”
Nikki chuckled. “I guess we need to know that before we name it.”
“It’s a boy. He’s had all his shots, too.”
The deep concentration on the child’s face made Nikki smile. Her little face was solemn, far more serious than Nicki expected although naming a dog was a significant moment in her daughter’s life.
“Can I call him Danny? That way it’ll be like he’s here with me. We were going to share the puppy. I miss him.”
The lump in Nikki’s throat threatened to choke her. She swiped at her tears and hugged her daughter who held the pup close to her. She didn’t miss the brightness in Jason’s eyes either.
“I think Danny is the perfect name for him. Your brother would be honored you’d chosen to name your dog after him,” Jason said. Nikki was grateful. She didn’t think she could have managed even that small speech.
Mandy smiled. “Now Danny can be with Mommy and me all the time.” She turned to Jason. “Thank you, this is the best Halloween ever.”
“I’m glad you like him. If you go into the kitchen, you’ll find a dog bed, toys, food, and all kinds of other stuff for him.”
Mandy carefully stepped off the bed, her puppy still cradled in her arms. She motioned to Jason to bend down, and when he did, she gave him a resounding wet smack on the cheek, and then ran off to show Cassie her pet.
“I probably should have asked you first,” he said sheepishly.
“No, Jason, it’s perfect, and it was a wonderful surprise for both of us. Come here.”
He moved over to the chair where she sat. She indicated he should come closer, and when he was within reach, she kissed him on the cheek, not as loudly as Mandy had, but it was definitely a kiss.
“I couldn’t let Mandy be the only one to thank you properly, now could I?”
Chapter Fourteen
Nikki sat in the recliner as she usually did in the late afternoon, but today her left hand squeezed the sponge ball Nathan had given her. The cast had come off yesterday and, although the skin was pale and flaking, the hand looked better than she thought it would. Her fingers were stiff from lack of use, and until she worked them, she wouldn’t know how much dexterity she would have. The slightly raised scar at the base of her ring finger stood out against the pallor of her palm, but the finger was warm, and she could bend it slightly. Another ring would hide it easily. She’d finished her exercises in record time today and could walk pretty much all over the main floor of the house with her walker. She could get to the bathroom and back again completely on her own, a personal triumph worthy of an Olympic medal.
She and Mandy had watched Cinderella earlier, and Angie had just taken Mandy outside for fresh air. Danny lay asleep in his basket beside Nikki’s chair. No one would know from their daily routine, that they were anything other than six people sharing a beautiful house in the mountains. She didn’t feel like a prisoner the way she had in the hospital. She felt safe and protected.
Snow had fallen again last night, nothing more than a light dusting to add to the six inches they had, but there was a front moving in from the northwest, and everyone was preparing for a storm. After attending to Nikki’s quickly decreasing medical needs, Cassie had spent a significant part of the day cooking and baking. The generator would keep the stove, furnace, and water pump working. It was fueled up, ready to go, with enough gasoline in reserve to keep them warm and toasty as long as necessary. Flashlights and candles sat ready to provide the light they’d need tonight if the electricity went out, allowing them to conserve their emergency power for essentials.
Nikki appreciated the way Jason made her feel like she was part of the team, keeping her informed about the preparations, even though her contribution to the cause was nil. He and Nathan put up outside storm shutters on the windows on the northwest side of the house. There were only two, one in the powder room and the other in the small office next to her room. Other rooms had indoor shutters easily closed as needed. A large sheet of plywood stood at the ready to cover the French doors if the weather was bad enough.
Thoughts of a storm that severe made her uneasy, but as Jason pointed out, if it came to pass, they were probably safer from The Butcher than at any other time.
They’d been in Colorado just over two weeks, and the case continued to move at a snail’s pace. According to Brad, there had been no special interest in Nikki Hart after the announcement that she’d been returned to the coma because of complications. The hospital continued to “treat” the dummy taking her place, and she was beginning to wonder if this was all for nothing.
Waiting for information was almost as frustrating as waiting for her memories to return. It was irritating to know so little about yourself, and yet remember other useless things so clearly. For example, she could recite the dialogue from The Wizard of Oz as they’d discovered when they’d watched the movie last weekend, but she didn’t know what size shoes she wore.
Thank God for Danny who continued to occupy Mandy and keep her from being bored. Jason had picked up a book on litter training a dog the day he’d brought the puppy home. At first, the idea had seemed odd, but realizing she wouldn’t have to take the animal outside at night or in foul weather appealed to Nikki. The pup was smart and had his new routine down pat.
>
She sighed and stared at the mountain rising behind the house. The last of the few trees on its rock face had lost their leaves and the skeletal branches swayed in the increasing wind. She could hear its whistling, and she shuddered. She disliked that sound. Maybe she’d ask Jason to seal off the window when he came back to check on her. He’d been gone all of twenty minutes—an eternity lately.
This side of the mountain was too rugged for anyone but the most intrepid climbers. Jason had told her the other faces and their gentler slopes provided an ideal location for three popular ski resorts. Mandy came around the corner on her Nordic skis, Angie by her side. This was their third pass around the house, and the child was getting faster each time. She was a natural.
Was she a skier? Had she ever thrilled to the wind in her face as she careened down the slopes? Considering where she’d been born, the chances were she might have, but living in California, had she kept it up? That was the kind of question she could ask her mother if she wasn’t under that tyrant’s thumb.
Jason entered the room with two cups of coffee in his hands, and she smiled. He spent most of his time with her whether he was on guard duty or not. They’d developed an easy-going friendship she would miss when this was over. Deep down, she knew she would like to see their relationship evolve, but Jason went out of his way to keep things professional. The only time his guard slipped was when he held her after she’d had a nightmare. In those moments, he became her guardian angel, protecting her from the demons in her dreams. She was certain now that he’d assumed that role many times in the past.
Reaching for the mug, she brought it to her lips and sipped.
“Thanks. You make a damn fine cup of coffee. A husband who can make good coffee is rare.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. Whatever had possessed her to blurt that out? Was this a memory? Had Sam made lousy coffee? She couldn’t imagine him making anything.
On His Watch (Vengeance Is Mine Book 1) Page 18
