WindSwept Narrows: #3 Emily Temple Read online

  “I know…I know,” she sighed tiredly.

  “Why do I get the impression that you’re like the little kid at the table secretly feeding her food to the dog,” Jack leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest.

  “Just a little slow getting started,” she said with a shrug. “I’m ravenous…it’ll all vanish quick, believe me…” But she laid the fork down and put her head back. “Just feeling a little tired, that’s all.”

  Jack had watched the rush of energy she’d burned through slowly begin to vanish. “I’ll be back later, Emily. Take it slow, okay?”

  “I will…thank you, Jack…you’ve really been nice,” she said sincerely, smiling wanly at the man before he nodded once and vanished from sight. She pushed the rolling stand to the side and inhaled very, very slowly.

  Chapter Three

  Jack thought peaceful had returned to his day.

  He was sitting in the cafeteria, reading through some notes from his admin, responding, sipping coffee. He was relaxed.

  “What the hell did you do with my patient?” Ian came through the double doors, ignoring the looks from the people around him.

  “Shit.” Was all Jack could say, gulping the rest of the coffee and surging to his feet, aware of Ian behind him. “You saw where I was, Ian…I should have known…”

  “Did someone pick her up?” He demanded, struggling to control his temper.

  “Hell…I don’t…” he opened his phone and tapped in the number to the shop. Chet answered on the second ring. “Have you seen Emily?”

  “Not since this morning…did you lose her?” He asked incredulously.

  “Keep your eyes open and let Grace know she’s missing,” Jack paced the room. Nothing on the tray had been touched.

  “I’ll check the cab stands,” Ian pulled his phone out, phoning the front desk and shooting out questions.

  “How the hell can a woman with no shoes, with a damn twelve inch bandage on her side and wearing a….a damn harem outfit just vanish and no one sees her or stops her?” Jack demanded loudly, his neck tilted and rubbed tiredly, waiting for Ian to get off the phone.

  “A cab picked her up outside the ER,” Ian shook his head. “I will find out how she managed this…she shouldn’t even be able to walk ten steps, let alone…I’ll get my bag and meet you at the shop. According to the cab dispatcher, that’s where she was headed.”

  Jack had his phone out as he made his way to the parking lot, climbing into the SUV and heading down the highway.

  “Chet, Emily is on her way there in a cab…hold the cab…tell him I’ll pay when I get there. Do not let her move, Chet. Hell, she shouldn’t have been able to move that far on her own,” he swore emphatically and loudly.

  “How the…okay, okay…got it…” Chet winced at the oath and end of the connection with his boss.

  The small neighborhood heard the door of the SUV slam shut.

  The cabbie was leaning on the fender of his cab, looking very uncomfortable, peeking now and then at the woman in the back seat of his cab.

  Grace and Chet stood on the walk, anxious and concerned.

  “Do you have the keys to her apartment?” Jack asked with a dark look at Grace before peeling money out of his wallet and handing it to the cab driver with a generous tip. “Thanks. She was supposed to stay in the hospital but decided she wanted to come home. And she neglected to inform anyone of her intent,” he ended with a low, frustration packed growl.

  “You can get in through the shop,” Grace said hurriedly, watching as he carefully lifted her from inside the cab.

  “Lock up and go home. Both of you,” Jack ordered, striding through the costume shop to the wide staircase at the back. He kicked the door closed behind him, and stood for a moment orienting himself. It was the opposite of his, which meant the bedroom was to the far left corner. Sparse was the first word that came to mind. A few pieces of clothing folded on the bureau. Girl things like hair brush, comb and clips…a large oval mirror tray with bangles and earrings and other bits of jewelry.

  Jack laid her on the bed, swearing to himself when he reached to brush hairs from the side of her face and his hand shook. He pulled the quilts to the bottom before going and opening the windows, a firm knock on the door sent him to the front.

  He let Ian in, gesturing to the bedroom and following.

  “Help me prop her on her side,” Ian cursed softly at the pink seeping through the bandages. They pulled pillows from the living area and had her lying on her side, his head shaking as he cleaned and checked the stitches. “By some miracle…she hasn’t pulled anything loose. Did she eat anything? I’ll put on clean ones…”

  Jack blinked back to the words from Ian.

  “No, I don’t think so. They brought the food…she told me to go get some for me…thirty minutes later, you come storming into the cafeteria,” Jack threw himself into the sturdy looking chair by the window. “I’m thinking shackles, myself…”

  “I can hear you…” Emily said softly, groaning and opening her eyes. “I think I fell asleep in the cab…poor guy must be a nervous wreck…”

  “I’ve added it to your bill,” Jack threw back with a growl, glad it made her wince.

  “Emily…what part of don’t move were you not getting?” Ian demanded, finishing taping the bandage in place.

  “I really don’t like hospitals,” she answered, closing her eyes again with a sigh. “You’re both angry and you have a right to be angry…but if I had asked, you would have told me no.”

  “You’re damn straight,” Jack said angrily, his voice loud and echoing off the walls. “You need to be where they can watch you. You have a damn eight inch slice out of you!”

  “You’re yelling,” she whispered, afraid to trust her voice.

  “And I’m going to keep on yelling until you get it through that thick skull that you pulled a bonehead stunt leaving…”

  “Stop! Stop yelling at me!” Her voice roared above his, lashes squeezed shut tightly, trying unsuccessfully to keep the hot, burning tears inside. “Just stop,” came the last whisper.

  “Emily…” Ian took a deep breath.

  “No…no…you listen to me now…both of you just listen and when I’m done if I’m wrong, I’ll go back to the damn hospital no matter how it makes me feel. It was you who got shot like Anya did a couple months back! Or it was you who…who got cut by the idiot this morning…and they put you into the hospital…and you had to let someone…someone hold your hand while you tried to pee and you listened to what you’re told and you didn’t move and you would do everything they said and you would never once try and leave early just because you couldn’t take it anymore! Why do girls have to behave differently than you would in the same given situation? Why?” Was the sad little finish to her tirade.

  Jack felt his mouth open and then snapped it shut, striding out of the room without looking back.

  “God…now I’ve got a headache…I’ll be fine, Ian…I’m sorry…” Emily sighed and closed her eyes, hugging the pillow beneath her head. “I’m so sorry…”

  “Emily…you’re right. I’d be…impossible,” Ian sat on the edge of the bed. “Want something for the headache? It’s probably just that you haven’t eaten…” He stood up and snapped his bag closed when she shook her head and refused to open her eyes. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll get something, I promise…and I will move slowly and at the barest minimum,” Emily heard him sigh. She listened to the floor boards creaking and heard the murmur of low voices in the other room. She had protein drinks in the fridge. One of them would be perfect.

  But while her stomach said feed me, her mind told her nothing sounded good. And she was so tired. The soft creaking made her eyes open, Jack’s large frame filling the doorway.

  “Jack…I’m sorry…”

  “I found this in your fridge…figured they wouldn’t be there unless you drank them,” he carried the chocolate flavored milk drink to the side of the bed, shaking
it and popping the top before handing it to her. “Ian said it’s better than nothing.”

  “Thank you,” she felt the cold can inside her fingers, leaned up and took a long swallow. “Jack…I…I’m sorry you were worried. I…”

  “I don’t want your apologies, Emily,” he sunk into the chair, staring into the wide eyes shimmering with tears. Her lower lip was pulled between her teeth, a long sigh breaking free when his head dropped down for a minute. “Do you know what I want?”

  “No.” Came the shaky whisper.

  “I want to go back to this morning before this shit happened.”

  “That’s not possible,” she said softly, blinking and swiping at the side of her face.

  “I know…so we deal…I’m going to my place where I know there’s food,” he said flatly, standing up and keeping his eyes on her. “You like chicken?”

  “Yes.”

  “Salad?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be back in a bit…do not go anywhere.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a yes sir, I won’t go anywhere…or no sir, I won’t go anywhere,” she peeked up at him, her lips pulled into a taut bow.

  “It’s a…don’t push it right now, Emily,” he answered with half a grin before turning and leaving the room.

  She drained the cold chocolate liquid and set the can on the nightstand, eyes closed as the soft breeze came in off the Sound.

  Jack made two trips, setting up the small table by the patio door. Clouds barely covered the setting sun outside, bringing a slight shadow to the room. He looked around the large apartment, replacing the dining chair with one of the cushioned chairs with arms that she had near a sewing machine.

  Emily heard him moving over the floor, her eyes opening just as he entered the room. She took a deep breath and used her elbows to push herself slowly upright. Her arms straightened out and she managed to keep her spine in one long line, both palms out and holding her steady on the mattress.

  “You have very good muscle control,” Jack commented quietly, watching her move.

  “Belly dancing does that to you,” she murmured, not protesting when he simply lifted her in his arms and carried her into the other room. “This is cheating.”

  “Cheat for a day, Emily, please,” Jack set her into the chair, pulling the table to her. “Because I’ll offer a little warning right now I’m a little low on the patience side at the moment and before you claim all the guilt, it’s not your fault.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack…I…I know should have stayed in the hospital. You shouldn’t have to…” She looked over the palm that came up and covered her mouth, wide brown eyes peering at him, lips pursed and her sigh soft against his skin.

  “No more apologies. We are dealing with what an idiot dealt us. Period. Okay?” He waited until she nodded before removing his hand, sitting down and handing her a fork. “Eat. Drink some water…and we talk…”

  “That will be nice,” Emily set the fork down and pulled the broiled chicken apart, chewing and thinking. She spread the bits over the salad before lifting the fork again.

  “Which part?” Jack asked, using the knife and carving off a slice of chicken.

  “Talking. Just…just being me. It’s very good…lemon dressing…thank you,” Emily met his gaze. “You like cooking?”

  “I like simple cooking. I’m not much for the fancy decorated plates of food,” he admitted, taking a long drink of the ale he brought over. “You don’t have much in the way of food here, Emily. What do you eat?”

  She shrugged. “Fruit…I go to the market on Wednesday…which was today,” she sighed. “Vegetables…”

  “Those drink things?”

  “My stomach says it wants food…my head says, nothing sounds good…so it gets the protein drink,” she watched the smile in his eyes. “I have tuna sandwiches…the market down the street makes a yummy sourdough bread. I eat,” she concluded with a stab at the salad.

  “I saw the vitamins. Yogurt…I don’t know where you get the energy to dance around in the mornings like you do,” he said with a laugh at the face she made.

  “I eat oatmeal and raisins…or now it’s with peaches…very yummy mornings…and toast with marmalade,” she looked him in the eye. “Okay…I can’t cook. I never learned how and…it feels like a bit of a waste to learn how for one person. They have such incredible things in the frozen section at the grocery.”

  “Yeah…I saw the popsicles,” Jack said with a chuckle.

  “So…when did you start drawing? The police officer seemed quite impressed,” she lifted a little tomato and popped it into her mouth. “You visit the market, too…these didn’t come from a grocery.”

  “I like organic stuff…tastes better,” he chewed thoughtfully. “I think I was drawing pictures before I could write my name. It was just always there.”

  “I can’t draw to save my life,” she confessed with a sigh, dragging a piece of chicken through the dressing and biting down. “But I can interpret their drawings and make the costumes. I love the computer and we have this great printer to make the patterns. This is the best time of year for garage sales to find lace and edgings.”

  “Is that what you’ve always done? Sewn?” Jack saw a sudden shield fall into place.

  “I…yes…a lot…no, just the last month or so,” she answered slowly, her memory pulling up the sheets of paper she’d gotten from Cassidy. A blueprint of who Emily Temple was. Once upon a time. “I was a buyer for a large fabric chain out of Denver,” she said quietly. “I studied textiles and business in college.”

  “It was time to move on?” Jack asked carefully, curious at the obvious distress on her face, deep in her eyes.

  “Yes…yes, I think it was…I don’t think I ever fit the…the lifestyle…the people,” she shook her head. “A lot of things were just not right. What about you? Have you always made jewelry?”

  “I always drew up designs…have a couple little notebooks full of drawings. I did the military thing after college,” he took the plates to the sink and moved things into the dishwasher.

  “I’d tell you not to do that…but I’m thinking you wouldn’t listen,” Emily pushed her head into the back of the chair and worked her muscles to shift in the chair. So focused, she wasn’t aware of the sharply drawn in breath or the long strides that had Jack across the room. Slim fingers were wrapped knuckle white around the arms of the chair.

  “Emily…”

  “I’m good…” she answered instantly, her stomach threatening and head spinning. “Honest…it’s okay…just give me a minute here…”

  “Emily!” This time his voice was louder, more forceful and it had her eyes popping wide. “Stop…” He put one hand on each of hers, gently opening her fingers to allow some color back into them. He doubted it would be that easy with the pale face. “Just stop…you cannot do this on your own…” Jack felt his stomach twist, the large pale brown eyes swimming in moisture. He’d been wondering how much longer she would keep it all locked inside. “Aww…don’t do that…”

  Pale lashes closed tightly, her palms up and rubbing them angrily.

  “I’m sorry…it’s okay…” She heard the scraping of the chair over the hardwood and drew in a ragged breath, lashes opening to see him sitting slightly to the front and side of her.

  “Ian left some pain pills for you…since you ate, how about taking one of them? For me, if not for you,” Jack commented with a grin that she reluctantly matched, relieved when she nodded. He went and filled her glass with ice and water, returning with the small plastic container.

  “I can’t picture you in the military…and yet…” Emily took the tablet he held out for her, draining half the glass of water before surfacing. “What did you do there?”

  “Psyops and civil affairs…”

  “How to play nice with the natives,” Emily said with a smile. “Kind of fits with the patience you’ve shown.”

  “You’re familiar with the military?” He asked, surprised she knew what
the main job of civil affairs was.

  “No…I just read a lot…” She studied his face. “You have pretty eyes…a very nice deep green…with little gold on the edges. What did you do after the military?”

  “Commodities broker…” he laughed at the surprise on her face. “Yeah…go figure…taught me a lot about finding gold and silver for the shop plans, though.”

  “Suit…tie…”

  “Vest even,” he said with a wink. “And then I worked in shipping,” he concluded, leaning back and watching her.

  Emily raised one hand, her finger crooking slightly.

  Jack frowned slightly but raised up and leaned closer. He saw her hand shaking slightly, but he knew that was the pain she was trying to hide.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this for the last week,” she told him, her fingers slightly bent as she touched his face.

  Jack froze in place. He had no idea the intense fascination in watching her expression as she gently caressed the side of his face and chin, the closely trimmed beard tickling the center of her palm. Her fingers were long and slim and shook slightly, cold tips brushing over the flesh above the beard.

  “It’s very soft…and so many colors…”

  “That’s age,” Jack said, clearing his throat and watching her eyes study him. Even as he leaned closer, the words left his lips. “This is probably not a good idea right now, Emily…”

  “It’s taken my mind off the pain,” she whispered before his mouth touched hers, landing softly, tentatively.

  Jack felt the shape of her beneath his mouth, the full bow parting with a soft sigh as his own curiosity to explore took control. His tongue went forward, drawing a sensuous line over her lower lip, teasing and nipping until her lips parted for him, her tongue inviting him to play. Her fingertips were cool against his face, her palm sliding toward the side, her fingers twining in the longer hair there.

  “Medicinal purposes,” Jack murmured, reluctantly pulling his mouth from hers and sitting back in the chair.

  “A very nice distraction,” Emily agreed quietly, surprised at her own response to him. “I…” She shifted in the chair, pushing herself upright.