Protective Instincts (14 page)

Julie backed from Brit's drive into the street. "Well, girl, what did Sam have to say when you told him you were coming home with me this week? Bet he was disappointed you'd be gone."

"I didn't tell him." Brit shrugged.

"Bri-i-t, I can't believe you. Sam was so excited about having time alone with you. The man has been driving everyone crazy and you didn't have the guts to be truthful with him?"

"I know! I'm chicken. Part of me says he's just another man and I can enjoy his company, but the other part is afraid he'll charm me into a relationship I can't handle. I dream about him. I think about him when I'm awake. He's too potent. If I could bottle his
essence of virile male
, I could make a fortune."

"Why don't you relax and let things take their course? Let it happen if it's going to. You can't fight fate, you know."

"I don't believe in fate. If I did, I wouldn't stand in front of a speeding car and tempt fate to step in. You wouldn't give in to fate, even if you knew you'd die tomorrow. You'd fight it all the way and I am fighting for my life!"

"Brit, you ninny, we're not talking about death, or a fate worse than death. We're talking about being loved by a wonderful man, a chance at lifelong happiness, at the most, or at the least, an incredible affair with a sexy man. How can you lose?"

"You don't understand. I had a
'til death do us part
love and death did us part. I can't take another one. Besides, Sam's so good with kids ... What if he wants marriage and more family?"

"Don't jump to conclusions. He has Sean. What if the problem was with Tommy? What if you can have children?"

"What if I can't?"

"You can't hide from life just because the worst could happen. You could miss the best that could happen."

"Could we talk about something else? I slipped off to get away from Sam. I need breathing room." Brit turned so she could watch her friend's expression. She neglected to mention that she'd had a threatening call this morning and a note slipped into her house, one straw too many. "I've been thinking …. "

"Terrific." Julie grinned. Brit's serious expression chased the grin away. "What is it, girl?"

"Tommy's home office and personal papers are packed in boxes at Mama's house. Matt packed his computer. I hadn't the heart to use it." Brit took in a long breath. She held it so long, her lungs hurt by the time she let it out. She hadn't come close to crying this time. Was Sam the reason?

"You have been thinking." Julie glanced at her a second.

"It's time for me to spend some time going through the papers. I can probably throw away a lot of stuff, but there are special things I'll keep. I think I'm ready to sort things out." Her eyes were pleading as she chewed her lower lip.

"You want me to help?" Julie offered.

CHAPTER TEN

Sam fumed. He'd called Brit from his car phone when a trip around the school parking lot hadn't revealed her car. When he called her home, he got her answering machine. She hadn't answered her cell phone. What good would it do her if she didn't leave it on? Anxious, he drove to her house to wait. She should've been home long before now. He'd been waiting for over an hour.

"Where in the Hell is she? She's not at school or here. Her car's still in the garage, but no one seems to be home."

He went to his car to phone Julie's house.
Maybe the girls are together
. "Please, Lord, let them be together."

He dialed Julie's house and got her answering machine. He slammed his hand against the dash as he waited through the message. She hadn't said she'd be unavailable for a while.

"Didn't Brit realize I'd worry about her after the attacks and the yard mess-up?" he muttered to the phone he held.

So what if the SOB was in jail? He'd never told Brit about the fears keeping him awake long after he was in bed every night. If Drew was right, someone had hired Douglas Drake to kill Brit.
What if they hired a replacement for him? What if they decided to kill off their hired killer, the one who had failed, before he could trade information to implicate them?

The woman he loved could be in danger and he didn't know where she was.
I do love her. I really do love her
. That wasn't so hard to think but could he say the words to her? He hadn't expected it but he felt good. In love. Yeah.

There was no sign of Monster in the yard or peeking through a window at him. He could usually hear the dog before he knocked on the door. He'd have to get Brit's mother's number from his house. Damn! The alarm system light was visible from the window in her door and it was on, he couldn't break in to check things out, without going to the office for master codes to the alarm system. This time she'd remembered. Where the Hell was she?

* * * *

The ride down I-75 raced by. Julie put the pedal to the metal, waving at the trucks she passed. The truckers hit their horns and waved back. Free spirit Julie did some strange things; she never bored Brit. Brit worried enough for both of them.

They'd only stopped once for a walk around a rest area with

Monster. He covered a good portion of the back seat of Julie's car. With his blanket and favorite toy on the seat, he settled.

Leaving the busy expressway had put them only fifteen minutes from New Britain, a town as picturesque as any in the state of Georgia. It was like a town time had forgotten, a one-horse town, but there were no horses on the street.

There was still a town square with a steepled, brick, three-story courthouse. The huge clock was an hour behind. Brit absentmindedly noticed the "Five and Dime" store and Stephen's, a quaint drug store, with its poster-board, handwritten list, of soda fountain specials displayed on the large window.

On her mother's street, trees budded and tulips bloomed in every color. One hour and forty minutes after leaving Brit's house, the red T-Bird pulled up in front of a brick, two-story house. Its covered porch ran the length of the front and sides.

Ellen moved from the large, old, porch swing and down the six cement steps, before Brit could alight from Julie's car. Brit closed her eyes and savored the love in her mother's hug.

Monster nosed both ladies, rubbing against Ellen for his hug. Ellen bent down so she could rub his tummy. "Grandma has a special doggy treat for Monster. Yes, she does."

The big dog licked his chops as though he understood. He explored, "greeting" the trees and bushes in male dog style, making himself at home.

At the sound of Julie clearing her throat, mother and daughter pulled slowly apart. Ellen opened her arms and Julie moved into them. She hugged the shorter woman, giving her an extra, quick, hard squeeze. "Mother Simpson, you look spiffy. Looking good."

"Julie, dear, I'd invite you in to visit but your mother's anxious to see you. We had lunch together yesterday." She turned to Brit. "I can't believe I have you here for a whole week!"

"Thanks, Mrs. S. Well, gotta dash. Mama'll call looking for me again if I don't get on home." Julie winked at Brit, then left with an impressive tire squeal.

The Simpson women walked side by side up the walk to the porch steps, each carrying a black, leather suitcase. Brit slung the garment bag over one arm. She'd leave with more luggage if her mother had anything to say about it. Glancing from the swing hanging from chains to the metal glider at the other end of the porch, Brit made her choice, the glider. Brightly covered cushions scattered splashes of color. The paint was shiny and pristine white.

Ellen nodded and confirmed what Brit figured. "Yes, Matthew repainted it last weekend. He was afraid it would rain if he waited. He hasn't forgotten his favorite oldest sister's favorite place to spend a summer evening."

The green lawn made a welcome view from the glider. Purple and yellow Irises lined the porch. Clusters of Azaleas bloomed in bright pink, matching the glow in Ellen's cheeks. She and Brit sat moving back and forth, as Brit's foot pushed against the floor to keep the bench moving. Peace and quiet lulled Brit, who was about to drift off to sleep.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go upstairs and take a nap. There's time before everyone gets home."

They lifted the suitcases and headed through the screen door. Up the familiar, picture-lined, staircase, daughter trailed mother until they reached the room at the far end of the hall.

Lavender curtains fluttered on a fragrant spring breeze. Everything from curtains, to matching comforter and dust ruffle, had been freshly laundered, mixing the fragrance of detergent and fabric softener with that of flowers. Heaven must smell like this, Brit thought, especially when the smell of cinnamon and spice hung on from the morning's baking.

The garment bag was slipped from Brit's arm and hung in her closet before she had put her suitcase down. Funny, she'd expected bitter-sweet memories of her recuperative months to be stronger, but they hung quietly in the back of her mind. Hmmm.

Same curtains and bed coverings, same furniture, same lamp and even a stack of paperback novels she had left on the bedside table. The dresser scarf matched the same chest of drawers scarf. Very little about the room had been changed, but so much seemed different. Maybe she was different?

"Mama, the room looks fabulous. You certainly have been busy. You didn't have to go to so much trouble washing and ironing everything, though." Brit hugged her mother again. "How did you know I'd be here? I hadn't planned to come."

"A mother knows. We washed everything this morning. Your niece helped a lot. Alicia adores you. She almost didn't go to softball practice this afternoon, but she had to, since the first game is tomorrow."

Ellen had begun to hang up Brit's clothes. "She's so excited; she could talk of little but the game and her favorite aunt. You'll be so proud of her. You can help protect the umpire from the most enthusiastic parent in the bleachers. Matt makes enough noise for two. He out yells his father and me."

"You, Mama?"

"Yes, me. You know I get in there for my children."

"No, I mean does he really out yell you?"

"Smart aleck, I'm not that bad," Ellen snorted. "And you're not too old to spank, young lady."

"Right," Brit retorted. She couldn't count the number of times she had heard that announcement, but she didn't need five fingers to count the number of times she had actually been spanked. It wasn't that her parents weren't believers. Other methods, like separating her from Julie, her usual partner in crime, had been more effective.

"Mama, is there a good light in the attic? I'm thinking about going through some boxes of stuff Daddy put up there for me. Maybe I'll check 'em out while I'm home this week."

"There should be plenty of light up there. I'll have your Daddy check tomorrow. Going through Tommy's things?" Ellen asked. "I'll help if you need me … Just let me know."

"I think I'm ready to sort things out." Brit sighed at the thought of facing the ghosts of her past. The time had come.

* * * *

Brit's nap lasted an hour, but it was enough. The shower relaxed her less than she'd have liked. Sam had no business insinuating himself into her shower in her mother's home. His smoldering eyes watched as she soaped her body, especially as she circled her breasts with the wet bath cloth. She remembered how Sam's mouth had felt at her nipples. She could just see the smirk on his insolent face. Only Sam was miles away.

Forcing herself to stop her erotic daydreaming, she finished her shower, willing the face that haunted her to disappear, before she started thinking about his wonderfully sexy body and the ways she had come to know it intimately. She had left him so she could find breathing space to sort out her feelings, to gain perspective. He was the kind of man she didn't need. He'd keep trying to protect her, he'd expect too much.

She almost bounced down stairs to greet her family. Alicia stopped setting the table to run and hug her. The twelve-year old was a tad taller than her aunt. Both wore ponytails and looked like sisters.

"Aunt Brit!" Alicia exclaimed, as she looked Brit in the eye, then hugged her again. "I missed you so much! Daddy, I mean Dad says we might get a horse once softball season is over and I promised to take good care of it and keep my grades up and …. " She finally took a breath. "You look great, you know that? I have so much to tell you." She squeezed her again.

"I missed you too, squirt. You look like you've grown six inches in the past two months. Look at you; you're taller than your old aunt. I guess I'll have to stop calling you squirt."

"Everyone's taller than you." The girl giggled. "I'd better get back to setting the table or Grandma'll skin me."

"I heard that." Came the response from the kitchen.

"Watch it, smarty, never make disparaging remarks about your elders. I'm still tall enough to whup up on you," Brit pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. "Good evenin', Mama. May I help?"

The mingling fragrances in the kitchen were enough to set Brit's stomach grumbling.

"You may put the salad together. Everything's on the counter." She turned, tilted her head toward the double sink. "You look rested."

"Yes, Mama. When I was a kid, you sang the praises of a nap as a cure to everything. I wasn't one for taking them."

"You didn't want to miss anything, and you weren't old enough to wish for one. You and Matt kept me so busy when you were small, that I would've given my eye-teeth for time for a nap. You two were a handful, especially after Amber came along."

"You must not have been
too
tired since Jared wasn't so far behind Amber, less than two years."

"I said I didn't have time for a nap, not that I didn't have time for anything." Ellen laughed. "Besides," Her face crimsoned, "your father was to blame for that. That man always was frisky!"

"Was?"

"Now you're being too nosy, young lady," Ellen's telltale blush deepened.

Brit smiled and finished tearing lettuce leaves into a large bowl. Would she be blushing years from now, while her daughter teased her about sex? Would she even have a daughter? Could Sam possibly be the man who could keep her happy for thirty years or more? Nah, not likely.

The phone rang twice.

"Could you get that, honey?"

"Sure, Mama."
This is New Britain, not my house, where a phone call could mean a threat to my sanity.

The phone rang a third time before Brit answered it. "A dial tone."
Not here, too?
Had they followed her?

"Honey? Who is it?"

"No one." Brit hoped she sounded normal.

"Probably Mrs. Bates." Ellen laughed and shook her head. "She gets the wrong number when she doesn't wear her glasses. Poor thing gets us instead of her son."

"She needs a phone with built in memory."

"She'd push the wrong buttons." Ellen covered the corn she had stirred. "She won't get rid of her old rotary phone."

Brit had just chopped a tomato and was scraping it from the cutting board as her father slipped into the room. She cut off the greeting she was about to voice when he crept to her mother bending over the open oven door.

Father and daughter smiled, as her mother re-arranged pans in the oven and straightened. Her dad turned Ellen into waiting arms.

Brit's grin grew as her mother half-heartedly smacked him before he turned toward Brit, who needed no encouragement to move into his embrace. Her cheek was pressed against his chest. His
Old Spice
mixed with his natural body chemistry to create the familiar scent that was Daddy.

She hoped he'd never change. She'd know his scent in the dark, and it spelled security, especially during those long, dark months after Tommy's death when he had just held her as she had cried in his arms. It reminded her of Sam. Funny they wore the same after-shave.

"Still frisky, I see," Brit grinned cheekily.

"There's too much company in this kitchen. You two go visit while I finish up in here." Ellen's face still glowed from the oven's heat, or from the conversation, probably from the conversation! "Everything will be ready in five minutes. Matthew should be here any minute. We can eat as soon as he gets here. Now scat, so I can get this meal ready."

Brit's oldest brother, Matt, met Brit in the dining room and swung her around. He felt a little thin. She looked into his grayish-brown eyes, saw love and exhaustion. Lines at the corners spoke more of worry than too much sun. Her gaze traveled down his beloved face to notice his gaunt cheeks.

"Working too hard or partying too hard?"

"Working."

"Wash up, supper will be on the table in one minute!" Ellen brought two steaming bowls of vegetables to the dining room table.

With Brit and Alicia as helpers, everything was on the table in one minute.

It felt good to share a meal with family, even with Amber and Jarred missing.
Mama always cooks all the food I don't bother to cook for myself
. Brit smiled.
I can't believe she cooked both butter beans and black-eyed peas tonight, with everything else. Bet Sam would enjoy the cornbread. Sam? He's always in my thoughts! Always!