Safe With You, page 16
“Captain, no!” Jack reached out, but missed Captain as he grabbed what was left of his sandwich as both bowls of soup tipped over.
Jack and Rachael raced to collect the rest of the food scattered across the blanket. The dogs ran back into the pond, playing and growling on top of one another.
Jack grabbed the corners of the blanket and pulled everything into the middle. Rachael followed and grabbed the other side, and he noticed a smile on her face. Soon, he heard her laughing as she collected the rest of the salad from the sand.
He almost argued one last time, to try to change her mind, but stopped himself. He looked at the dogs playing in the water and said, “Captain’s not going to want to leave.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Would you want to come back for another picnic?”
Fourteen
Rachael followed exactly what Fletcher did with the pines. The teenager showed her how to trim them by using a hand-held electric trimmer. As he walked around the orchard, he explained how to decipher the different types of trees that had been planted over the years. He showed her how he lined up the rows.
He removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Tomorrow, if you have time, you can finish the last two rows.”
“By myself?” She wasn’t so sure. “What if I ruin them?”
He shook his head. “They always come back.”
The rest of the day, Rachael followed Fletcher, asking questions about the farm, and he seemed to enjoy answering them. As they worked their way through a grove, Finn popped in her head and she wondered how he was doing on his own.
Everything seemed brighter, lighter. She knew it wasn’t the fresh air or warm autumn sun. She hadn’t felt like that since...ever. She laughed at the image of the dogs jumping in the water.
As the sun set behind the mountain, she sat out in an Adirondack chair underneath the large maple. Leaves dropping to the ground pitter-pattered all around her. Dark shadows lay upon the farm. Instinctively she turned toward the east, picturing the coast. Wondering what Jack might be looking at, at that very moment.
Then her stomach twisted. What was she doing? Jack didn’t deserve someone like her. She hadn’t even told him the whole truth. He doesn’t know what she did. How could she be so selfish?
Maybe she was as selfish as Nick always said. Maybe she was a sorceress who played with people’s emotions, not caring what pain she caused. She didn’t want to hurt him, so why did she let him take her on that picnic? Why did she let him hold her hand, and make him think something was happening between them?
She wouldn’t ever be able to be with him, because in order to really be able to give him everything, she’d have to give up everything. She’d have to come out of the shadows. She couldn’t live on the run, waiting each day for someone to discover her secret. Or worse, have to keep moving forever, never getting anywhere. How could she ask that of him?
Yes, that was what Rachael feared.
He would.
Jack was the kind of guy who’d wait. And she couldn’t live with herself if she let him.
JACK TAPPED HIS THUMBS against the steering wheel as he drove into town. He turned up the music. The old classic he hadn’t heard for years seemed to fit his mood, and he turned it up some more. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. Sun filtered through the colors, a late Indian summer hitting New England at the end of October. Pumpkins sat by doors, husks wrapped around door frames.
He wished Rachael had come back with him. He’d take her out. She couldn’t be this close without seeing fall in Camden Cove. He was glad Stephen King wrote horror rather than romances, otherwise this picturesque scene would be flooded with even more tourists.
He recognized his mother’s minivan as soon as he pulled into the parking lot. What was she doing there that early? He found her inside, behind her desk, her paper ledger of supplies opened. She didn’t look up from her computer, her fingers typing in the order as efficiently as always. She could do her job while she slept.
“What’s up, mom?” he asked as he stepped past her.
She pulled off her reading glasses. “I heard you went to see that woman, Rachael?”
He almost asked who told her, but with his family, it really didn’t matter. “Yes, and I see you have something to say about it?” He eyed his mom. Forever nosy when it came to her children’s personal lives, she didn’t hold back her opinions.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea?” she asked. “She seems to have a lot going on.”
He was about to answer, when he stopped himself. Was he being selfish, pushing this relationship on Rachael? Had he done exactly what Elizabeth told him not to do?
“I like her.”
Sarah stood up from the desk and gave him her look, lips pressed, eyebrows together, a slight tilt to her head. “The way she came into town makes me think there’s a lot you don’t know about her.”
He nodded, crossing his arms. “Where are you going with this, mom?”
“I think you should be cautious.”
“I think I’ll be just fine.” Jack stepped away from the conversation and toward his office. She had her own issues with new people in the Williams’ inner circle, especially women who dated her sons. The line between her family and the rest of the world was clearly drawn. Her concern was real, he recognized, but there wasn’t anything or anyone that could change his feelings for Rachael.
She followed him into his office. “Look, I know everyone’s rooting for you two, and I’m not trying to get involved —”
“But?” he interrupted.
She gave him a look. “But honestly, she needs to find more help than what we can give her.”
“What are you saying?”
“My point is, do you really know what’s going on with her?”
Jack just looked at his mom. In many ways, she was crossing a line. A line he’d seen her cross before, and one he didn’t appreciate. However annoyed and angry he was, he also couldn’t argue with her. Rachael hadn’t told him much. He really didn’t know.
“Did you ever think there’s more to the story than a black eye?” she spoke the words slowly.
He loved his mother and understood everything she said was out of concern, but his concern was for Rachael. “I know you mean well, but you raised me to protect the ones we care about.”
He waited for her to respond to the words she had spoken a thousand times while he was growing up, but she restrained herself. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
“Didn’t you teach us to stand up for the little guy, and take care of your neighbors?” He knew she would change her tune. He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. Her kryptonite when it came to her kids.
“Yes, I did.” She tucked herself closer against his chest. “Just be careful.”
Fifteen
Captain rode shotgun with Jack as he drove back to New Hampshire, driving the same winding roads to see Rachael. The fall colors had already dulled from the frost over the past few nights. The deep red shades had gone, leaving golden hues mingled with the greens of conifers along the mountains.
When his truck rolled up the gravel driveway, he saw Rachael walking out of the barn. The way she had her hair pulled back into a ponytail made her seem taller, stronger. A strong woman would leave a weak man — a controlling man. He admired how brave she was to do whatever it took to get away from his control, even if it meant running and sacrificing everything.
He squeezed the wheel as she stood there watching as he pulled up. She gave a little wave, but stood in the entrance of the barn. Maggie walked out from behind her and waved as well, a big smile on her face.
Captain started jumping around the truck to get out before Jack could even get his seatbelt off. “Hold on, Cap, let me help you out,” he said, as Captain barked. His leg still made it difficult for him to jump down from the cab. When he got the dog out, he ran straight to Rachael.
She knelt and rubbed the dog’s neck, giving him a big hug. Soon, a cacophony of barking came from the barn, and all three of Maggie’s dogs came to greet their new friend. Captain left Rachael as soon as he saw them, jumping into the group.
“Welcome back,” Maggie said as he got out of the truck, shaking his hand. She whistled for the dogs. “Let’s go and get a treat!”
All four ran behind Maggie into the house.
“What are you doing here?” Rachael asked. She still hadn’t moved from the barn.
“I couldn’t wait to see you.” He told the truth. No need to confuse things by trying to act nonchalant at this point. “And I like to shovel poop.”
She smiled, her hand covering her mouth, but then made a face. “I have to work.”
“I’m sure Maggie wouldn’t mind the extra help.” This time, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
She tapped the wood floor of the barn with her boot heel a few times as she contemplated his offer. Her eyes slanted up toward him. “Alright, come along.”
He struggled holding back his grin. He’d have to chill out. He didn’t want to go and screw this up by pushing her. “What’s first?”
She stuffed her hands in her pockets as she walked back inside the barn. “We need to muck out the stalls, then trim some trees.”
She grabbed a couple of shovels and handed one over to him. “What about the restaurant?”
“I got someone to cover me.”
Her lips widened, and this time she didn’t cover it up.
“And what better way to spend my day than mucking up stalls?”
She laughed and walked over to the first stall. “Well then, you’re in for a treat.”
She opened the door and walked inside. Goats murmured as she patted their heads while moving through the stall, then opened the outside gate. “There you go.”
Jack had cleaned dozens of kitchens, but never had he cleaned up after farm animals. He looked around, trying to figure out what to do first.
“Want to grab the wheelbarrow?” Rachael asked, pointing at the wall behind Jack.
He grabbed the barrow and wheeled it to Rachael, who already had a shovel full of soiled straw. He followed her lead and filled the barrow. They hardly talked, but the quiet felt comfortable, like a blanket. Together, they worked in a steady rhythm. They shoveled up the straw along with the extras. When the barrow was full, he’d empty it in the field as Rachael filled the stall with fresh bedding.
He snuck glances at her throughout the morning, only catching hers a few times. For most of the day, Rachael had acted cool toward him. Had he mistaken what happened between them?
Why was she so hard to read?
She went to the wheelbarrow, now full, and started to grab the handles. He stepped over to help.
“I can get that.” He watched as the wheelbarrow teetered from the weight of horse manure.
“I’ve got it.”
He rubbed his forehead as he laughed.
“What?”
He picked up his shovel and shook his head. “You just cannot accept help.”
“It’s just that I can do it.” She pushed the wheelbarrow over to the stall door, and the wheel stuck on a protruding edge of a floorboard. The barrow didn’t move.
He stopped what he was doing and leaned against the shovel. “Would it really kill you to accept my help at this point?”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Everybody needs a little help, Rachael.” He dropped the shovel against the wall. “Don’t you trust me by now?”
“I DON’T TRUST ANYONE.” She walked away, down to her favorite horse’s stall. Pumpkin’s chestnut coat shimmered under the sunlight. The horse stuck her head over the stall door, nudging Rachael’s hands with her muzzle. His footsteps created a hollow beat against the floorboards.
“I see it this way,” he said, leaning against the stall next to her. “I think you came into my restaurant that night for a reason, and that’s so I could be there for you. You can’t tell me that all those pieces fell perfectly into place by coincidence?”
She could smell his musky cologne, even a hint of the tangy scent of the sea.
“You can’t help me,” she said, her voice quivering.
“Maybe I’m here to be by your side?” He nudged her with his shoulder, smiling.
Her chest filled with air. She squeezed the railing of the stall.
“Come on, Rachael.” He leaned closer and said, “You and me and Captain.”
She looked down and there sat Captain, his tail wagging his whole body as he looked back and forth between them. Jack moved a bit closer, now bumping his hip into hers. He rested on his elbows. She could feel his breath against her cheek.
“I would really like to gain your trust.”
He leaned closer but stopped just before his lips touched hers. Her chest rose up and down as he stood there, looking at her. All she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears as she waited for his next move. And without thinking anymore, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. When she pulled back, they both took in a deep breath at the same time, staring at each other.
“I’m hoping this means I can stay for dinner.” He gave her a sly smirk.
She rested her forehead on his chest. She couldn’t believe this was happening.
He grabbed her hand and walked out of the barn, giving a whistle. “Come on, Cap! Let’s eat!”
RACHAEL SAT ON THE counter and watched as Jack started dinner.
“I can’t believe you brought all this food.” She said looking at all the containers.
“We cook a lot in my family,” he said, rolling prosciutto around asparagus.
“What are you going to make us for dinner tonight?” she asked, as she pulled out a bag of flour.
“Pork tenderloin with apple chutney, and butternut squash ravioli in a caramel butter reduction.” He winked at her. “I might be trying to impress you.”
She pulled out fresh rosemary and thyme he had luckily found at a farm stand along the way. “You don’t have to try to impress me.”
He wanted to reach out and hold her, keep her in his arms forever, but instead he grabbed the bottle of wine, poured Rachael a glass, and began to do what Jack knew best. Cook.
“What can I do to help?” Rachael asked, leaning against the cabinet. Her knee touched his elbow, sending a current through his whole body.
She swung her hair behind her shoulders and a strand fell down in front of her eyes. He stopped chopping the rosemary and brushed the strand behind her ear. “Tell me more about you.”
It looked like she was about to hesitate, but then said, “I grew up in Rhode Island after my dad left.”
While she talked, the squash cooked, and he made the dough for the raviolis. He told her about going out on his grandfather’s lobster boat, fishing with Matt and his cousins during the summers. She told him about life before her dad left, and how her mother continued to date the same kind of guy over and over again. He talked about how happy his parents were after thirty plus years of marriage.
He brought the plates over to the table Rachael had set earlier. He pulled out the chair for her as she sat down.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He lifted his glass to her. “To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings.”
He took a sip and kept his eyes on her. “I’ve missed you like crazy.” He stopped and put his drink down. “I know that sounds crazy. I hear how crazy I sound, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
He shook his head as the only sound was of a lone cricket could be heard. The mood changing.
“Jack... It’s just...”
“What?” It was her time to confess. Had he not proved he could be trusted? But as they sat there, she didn’t speak. “Talk to me, Rachael.”
Her eyes watered and she immediately looked away.
“What if I told you something that I’ve never told anyone, and then you tell me something?”
She gave him a weary look. “Okay.”
Jack rubbed his hands together and then said. “I’ve only been in love once before.”
“I’m not sure if that’s much of a confession.”
“With my brother’s wife.” He waited for it to register and then her expression changed.
“The woman above the restaurant?”
He nodded. “I had been in love with her since I was a kid, actually, but when I left for school, she broke it off. When I came back, she and my brother had started dating, and then, well, the rest is history.”
He hadn’t told anyone his confession and the way her eyes widened, his vulnerability rose.
“Wow.”
“Yup.” He took a long drink of wine.
He thought of Justine running out of the apartment, pleading with him. Her feet bare. Her shirt misbuttoned. Had she slept with Freddy above the restaurant, to get back at matt or Jack?
“Do you still love her?”
He shook his head. “No. Now I feel sad for her.”
“Strange, how you could fall in love with someone who turns out so wrong for you.”
IT WAS HER TURN. HER flight response triggers started up immediately. Her breathing became shallow, hard to control. Her hands trembled, even pressed under her legs. Her stomach seemed to press against her throat.
Jack waited.
She looked at him, praying he’d understand. “I never told anyone he hit me. My mom knew, but we never talked about his abuse. I had been planning to leave, hiding money, sneaking stuff out of the house so when the time came, I’d be ready to leave, but he must’ve found out.” A tear dropped from her eye and Jack wiped it away. “I was making a cup of tea at the stove. Then I heard this click and felt the cold steel of his gun on the back of my head. He told me that was a warning, and to tell him what I had been planning. That’s when he hit me in the face.” Her hand instinctively went to her eye. She stopped, trying to think of the words, trying to think of a way to explain. Her breath steadied as tears suddenly stung her eyes. The image of the moment she was about to describe was as clear as the day she lived it. “I fell against the stove, and I grabbed the first thing my hands touched and swung. I screamed so loud, I didn’t hear his body fall onto the floor... but when I opened my eyes, and he was laying there, I knew I had to go. That’s when I left.”
