Thursday's Child (15 page)

“You have a strange definition of pretty. Pretty means attractive, beautiful, pleasing. I’m none of those.”

He ran his gaze over her figure, making the heat rise in her cheeks.
How can he do that with one simple look?

“So what word would you use then?”

“Ugly, scarred, useless. I don’t know. You pick one.”

A thoughtful look crossed his face before he winked at her. “Nope, don’t like any of those. Sorry. So, you’re a little bashed up right now. You’ll heal and walk and run again. You’ll be better, stronger faster…”

Niamh giggled. “Just like the bionic pastor? Only I crawl more like a caterpillar right now.”

Jared laughed. “Yup, but you know what they say about caterpillars?”

“They usually turn into beautiful butterflies. ’Cept this one stays ugly.”

“Then you’ll be the world’s first ugly butterfly. You might even make the record books. So you want juice or wine with dinner?”

“Juice, please. I’ve gone off wine. Assuming I liked it before...”

He looked surprised. “OK. I don’t drink anyway, so juice it is.”

She sat as he put the plates on the table. She hadn’t seen anything like this before. Meat and veg rolled up in some kind of bread. “Thank you.”

Jared said grace and started eating. She looked for a knife and fork and then glanced up. He was using his hands to eat, so she tentatively did the same.

“You said you’d tell me how we met.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything.” She chewed slowly, savoring the spices in the food. She swallowed and elaborated. “How we met, where we met, what you said, what I said…”

Jared’s rich baritone laugh filled the room. “Sounds like consequences.”

“I haven’t played that in years. I also want to know how long we dated.”

He winked at her. “Do you treat your witnesses like this?”

“All the time. I think.” She smiled. “This is good. What is it?”

“Fajitas. Spicy Mexican food. You fell in love with the cuisine when we went to Mexico six years ago.”

“I can see why.” She tilted her head. “You got some sauce on your chin.”

Jared ran his finger over his chin then licked the sauce from it. “OK, to answer your questions. We met in church on a Sunday. Nine years ago. April the twenty-eighth to be precise.”

“You remember the date?”

“It’s a little hard to forget. You Bible bashed me.”

Niamh choked on her fajita. “I did
what
?”

“You knocked your Bible over the edge of the gallery at the end of the service. It landed on my head and sent me flying to the floor. You came running down to make sure I was all right and one thing led to another, and I asked you out before you’d even helped me up.”

“Let me get this right. I drop my Bible on your head, we exchange about five words and you ask me out? What did I do?”

“Said yes.” Jared grinned. “I think you said yes out of guilt at first, but anyway you said yes.” He chewed for a while. “I walked you to your car, told you what my job was. You told me what you did. You apologized about fifty times for hitting me with your Bible as that’s not what a Bible is for. Ever since then, hitting someone with a Bible has been called Bible Bashing by our friends. Your brothers never let either of us forget.”

“I see.” She tried not to laugh. It shouldn’t be funny, but it was.

“When we reached your car, I took your hand and did this.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

Tenderness instead of roughness sent ripples of pleasure through her entire body. How could one small touch cause such a seismic reaction? “What did I do?”

“Pretty much what you’re doing now. Blushed, looked stunned, as if you didn’t know what to say or how to react. And I thought to myself, that’s the woman I’m going to marry. And I’m glad I did.”

“Despite how horrid I apparently was to you the last few years.”

“Yeah.”

Niamh pushed up on one crutch and took her plate to the sink. “What about our first kiss? First proper kiss, that is.”

Jared brought his plate over. “That was on our first date. We went to the zoo. You have this thing about penguins and giraffes. We spent ages at those enclosures. Then we had a picnic under this huge tree. I sat watching you, wondering if your lips were as soft as they looked.”

Niamh’s gaze settled on his lips. “Oh?”

He moved, gently pushing her against the counter. “Then I leaned forward, like this.” His face was mere inches from hers, his eyes darkening as he held her gaze. “And then I did this.”

Niamh closed her eyes as his lips touched hers. They were as soft as they had been on her hand. Waves of warmth flowed through and over her from her lips outwards until it encompassed her entire body. She willingly parted her lips, returning the kiss as she lost herself in it. So different to the last time he’d kissed her. If that one had been a nine, this was off the seismic scale completely.

Just before she thought she’d pass out from lack of air, Jared broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. “Four kisses later, we finished lunch and went back to the penguins.”

“When did you propose?”

“After our fourth date. I dug out the middle of the front lawn at your parent’s house one night and planted flowers so when you opened your bedroom curtains in the morning you’d read ‘Marry me Niamh’ in red and yellow tulips.”

Niamh laughed. “You didn’t. Oh, I bet Dad blew his top. Probably a V.E.I eight.”

“Oh, I did. And Dad blowing his top is putting it mildly. Krakatoa has nothing on him. He was furious. Not with me proposing, but purely because I’d ruined his lawn. I had to re-turf it.”

“I bet. Dad’s garden is his pride and joy. No one’s allowed to touch it.”

He grinned at her. “Then two weeks later I dug it up and planted pansies and marigolds that read ‘She said yes’. It took all night and several torch batteries.”

“Did you incur the wrath of Dad again?”

“Oh yeah. But it was worth it. I’d do it again.”

Something deep within Niamh flickered. For a moment, it was almost within her reach, then it was gone. “You would?”

Jared nodded, holding her gaze. “I would. Even though he said he’d spiflicate me if I ever touched his lawn with so much as a little finger again, I would.” He smiled. “I stopped by the video store on my way home and hired a film. The first one we ever went to see. I thought we could sit and watch it. I even got popcorn. The sweet one not the salted, as neither of us like that.”

She smiled back. “Bring it on.”

12

The next week passed quickly. Niamh easily slipped back into the routine of working. It really wasn’t that different from what she remembered, and her initial qualms faded as bits and pieces of her job came back to her. Her previous case notes still puzzled her at their abruptness and outright meanness. For a Christian, she sure hadn’t been acting like one. She spent time each day praying over the files, asking for forgiveness for her attitude. At least she hadn’t wrongly prosecuted anyone. She had gone through every case she’d prosecuted to check.

Every evening, when Jared wasn’t on nights, she spent with him. He’d come over and they’d watch TV or just sit and chat about their respective days. But they’d finish every evening in Bible study and prayer. Something he said had been missing for a while—even before Dayna died. They’d spoken of her several times. Jared had shared lots of memories with her and even borrowed all the photos of her he could in order to get copies made of them.

They’d chosen one of the three of them sitting under the Christmas tree, taken two days before Dayna died and had it enlarged. It now hung in pride of place on the wall in the lounge. Something they both decided was a good thing.

The contents of Niamh’s wardrobe had been as big a shock as her journals. Full of more suits and shoes than she would ever really need and not cheap ones either. She looked at them critically and finally decided on just one suit for work. Everything else she folded and placed in five black sacks. That left her with two skirts, two pairs of jeans, the tracksuit trousers that fitted over the cast and a week’s worth of shirts, nightwear and lingerie. More than enough.

Next she tackled the shoes. She kept a pair for work, a pair for best, sneakers, and sandals. The rest went in the bags.

When the driver arrived to pick her up for work, she smiled. “Hi, I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure, Mrs. Harkin.”

“I’ve got some stuff bagged up to go to the charity shop. Could we drop it off on the way? The bags are on the landing if you don’t mind bringing them downstairs for me.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. I’ll let Mr. Reynolds know I’ll be in a little later.”

It took him several trips to load the car, but he did it without complaint. “Which charity shop did you want to go to?”

Niamh looked blankly at him. “There’s more than one?”

He smiled. “There are five in the precinct.”

“OK. Umm, pick one. I don’t have a preference.”

“Sure.”

Once they got there, Niamh wandered around while the driver unloaded all the bags. She found a couple of skirts she immediately fell in love with and an ornament consisting of three owls. Two were the right way up, the third hanging upside down with ‘It’s one of those days’ written along the bottom of it. She paid for them and headed into work.

****

Exhausted after her first afternoon back in court, Niamh locked up and went to bed early, Jared’s voice still ringing in her ear. She’d spent an hour on the phone to him just talking about everything and nothing.

She fell asleep quickly only to jerk awake what seemed like only moments later. What had woken her?

Something had fallen. A soft but noticeable thud on the carpet, but was it in her dream or…?

No. There was harsh breathing, a footfall. Another thud and muffled curse.

Someone was in the room. A dim penlight clicked on beside her.

Her heart pounded and she reached over and flicked on the light.

A tall man, dressed in black with balaclava over his face stood next to the bed, her Filofax in his hand.

Niamh screamed as loud as she could, reaching for her phone. She caught a blur moving swiftly in the corner of her eyes, before something connected hard with the side of her head. Pain rocketed through her.

She struggled to focus on the figure beside her. Another blur as he raised his arm again.

His hand connected with her face, the blow making her see double before everything went dark.

When she opened her blurry eyes, the room was empty and she was lying face down on the floor. For a moment, she thought she’d imagined it, but the pain in her head assured her she hadn’t. She reached up blindly for the phone, hoping it was where she’d left it. It was. She dialed Liam’s number.

After three rings, Jared’s voice echoed down the line. “Hello, Liam’s phone.”

Jared? What…
She had no idea why he was answering Liam’s phone, but she needed him. “Jared, help…”

Concern filled his voice. “Niamh, what’s wrong?”

“Please, help me…” Something dripped into her eyes and she wiped warm liquid away. Her hand was red. Was that blood?

She dropped the phone, and digging her fingers into the carpet, crawled to the bathroom, her plastered leg dragging behind her. She reached up and grabbed a towel off the rack. The tiny room spun in a haze of black and white as dizziness flooded her. She curled up on the floor, her head on the towel.

Just rest a few moments, until the pain goes away…

****

Jared fumbled his key in his haste to get into the house. As he put it in the lock, the door gave and opened. He hadn’t even unlocked it. Was someone in the house with her? Exchanging a frantic glance with Liam he rattled off, “Call the police,” before he ran inside. “Niamh!”

On alert, he searched for her, calling her name. Hearing a faint moan, he hurtled up the stairs. “Niamh?”

She lay slumped on the landing half out of the bathroom. Dropping to his knees, he felt for a pulse in the limp slender wrist. He cradled her cool body. “Niamh?”

Her eyes flickered then tried to focus on him. “Jared? You’re here?”

“I’m here.” He took in the blood. “Liam, she’s hurt,” he yelled. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and clamped it over the small wound.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, Liam appeared. He took things in at a glance and stepped over them. The water ran for a moment then Liam handed him a damp towel. “Here. The police are on their way. I’ll call an ambulance, too.”

Jared looked up. “Maybe run across the road and see if Nate’s in.” Detective Sergeant Nate Holmes, church elder, friend, lived opposite them. “He’ll know what to do.”

Liam nodded and left the room, already speaking on the phone.

Jared looked back down at the pale, beautiful face. He should never have moved out and left her alone. “Niamh?”

Her eyes slowly opened and struggled to focus on him. “There was a man. He hit me.”

“It’s OK, you’re safe now.” He cradled her and carried her down the stairs.

“I can walk,” she protested weakly. “Well if I had the crutches, maybe…”

“Not this time.” He kissed the top of her head. Her voice was a little stronger now and the fact she was complaining was a good sign.

As he reached the hall, Liam and Nate ran in. “I haven’t touched anything,” he said. “I found her lying bleeding on the floor upstairs.”

“I’m fine, just a little shaken is all.” Niamh pushed against his chest. “It’s just a slight cut.”

“Don’t argue. You’re going to hospital to get checked out, because you were out cold for a few minutes.” He laid her on the couch. “Besides, Nate will only insist on a med report to back up his police report. The guy hit you, Niamh, that’s assault.”

Nate sat on the chair next to her. “Hi, Niamh. I’m DS Holmes. You know me as Nate.”

She smiled faintly as Jared gently examined the wound on her head. “You live over the road. I’ve seen you with your daughter in church.”