The Heart of a Hero (6 page)

“Doesn’t everything?”

They looked at each other with nothing but the pitter-patter of rain on the tarp filling the room. Zoe tried to read his expression, but failed. Whatever thoughts were running through that handsome head, they remained hidden from the world.

“Do you want a second sandwich?” she asked at
last. He hadn’t finished the first, but Zoe couldn’t think of another excuse to speak.

“No, but thank you.” Pushing himself to his feet, he stumbled slightly and fell forward, catching his footing a few inches from where she stood. The aroma of bay rum and masculinity wrapped itself around her body. Hooded eyes looked down at her, finding her mouth again.

“I—I should be going,” he said. “Thank you for the sandwich.”

She waited until he’d slipped around the blue tarp before letting out the long breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “You’re welcome.”

The rain moved in for the rest of the day.

For a long time after Jake’s departure, Zoe stood in the living room staring at the doorway, as if he might walk back in. He didn’t.

Eventually she returned to the work waiting for her. While she still didn’t feel like she had answers, her looming deadline left her little choice but to write something. Hopefully her readers would find her advice passable even if she didn’t.

Outside, the blue tarp waved and buckled. Heading into the kitchen, she saw Jake pulling the plastic sheeting away from her windows. His hair and clothes were wet. Every so often he’d wipe the rain from his face.

Surely he didn’t have to remove the plastic right
now. She could live with a shrouded house. Her eyes traveled to the coffeemaker.

No, he was out there because he wanted to be. She’d already trotted out once today with that silly picnic. She was not going to act like some smitten groupie or beg for his attention. If Jake wanted to be left alone, she would honor his request.

Instead, she poured a cup of coffee, returned to her laptop and focused her attention on the people who wanted it.

The plastic sheet rippled in the wind, making maneuvering difficult, but Jake eventually wrangled it under control. He didn’t have to pull the tarp back; tomorrow he would only have to put it back into place. Through the living room window he saw Zoe on the sofa, typing away on her laptop. Her hair hung around her face. Every so often she’d comb it back from her eyes. His eyes traveled to the Barcalounger, his mind harkening back to her body swaying close to his. She’d smelled like lemons. Would her skin taste like them, too? The therapist at the VA used to suggest sucking on lemons to anchor himself during a flashback.
What do you want, Jake?

No. He wouldn’t go there. He’d meant what he said, about wanting to be left alone. He didn’t want Zoe bopping up his ladder with sandwiches. He didn’t want to “talk” with her or think of her as anything but the woman who hired him.

So instead he stood in the rain and wrestled with the plastic tarp, letting the rain cool his overheated skin.

The next morning, Zoe found herself still decidedly not thinking about her neighbor as she made her way to the hardware store to order a bat house.

“Take a couple days,” Ira told her. “We don’t stock ’em in the store. You mind?”

Zoe shook her head.

“Good to know. Some people aren’t so patient about waiting.” He grabbed an order pad from underneath the counter. “By the way, you find that handyman of yours?”

He’s not mine,
Zoe thought.
He’s not anybody’s.
Then she realized what the manager meant. “If you’re talking about Jake, he’s at my house scraping shingles off the roof as we speak.”

His dark figure had appeared on her roof just after dawn. Zoe had
not
studied him through her rearview mirror as she drove away. “In fact, he’s the reason for the bat house. He found some droppings.”

“Good man. Does good work. I’ve hired him myself more than once.”

Zoe couldn’t help herself. “You know Jake well?”

“As well as anyone on the island I suppose. He’s pretty private. Keeps to himself.” He cast an eye at her over his order pad. “Why do you ask?”

“Curious, is all,” she replied. Seemed like too vague a word, but she couldn’t think of a better one.

“Well, like I said, he’s a pretty private person. I’m sure he’s got a good reason.”

Meaning she’d get no more information from him. “Yes, I’m sure he does.”

To be honest, she understood the reticence. The small year-round community naturally would be protective of one another, especially when it came to newcomers like her. Then again, it was possible, given Jake’s barriers, Ira knew as little about her handyman as she did.

Her handyman.
Second time today the phrase crossed her brain. Like before, she immediately issued a correction. Jake didn’t belong to anyone. Especially her. Not that she wanted him to belong to her anyway.

There was no silhouette on the rooftop when she pulled into her drive, only tar paper and bare wood. She parked the car and headed toward the backyard, where she swore she could hear Reynaldo barking. Rounding the corner, she saw Jake attaching the dachshund to his dog run. Her stomach fluttered at the sight.

Because he was being nice to Reynaldo, not because she was relieved he hadn’t left.

Rey was doing his usual circling and pirouetting around Jake’s legs. “Hold your horses,” he was
saying. “Let me get you clipped up. There. Go bother the chipmunks for a little while instead of me.” With a sharp bark, Rey trotted off toward the back end of the yard.

“See he’s got you trained, too,” she said, announcing her arrival.

He turned, causing the sunlight to hit his face just right, and light up his eyes like emeralds. Brilliant beyond belief, they somehow managed to look sad and wary at the same time. The effect shot straight through to her heart, and she felt a tiny lurch. He might not want friends, but she was looking at the eyes of a man who needed them.

“Deliveryman came and he started barking his head off,” he said. “Wouldn’t stop ’til I took him outside.”

“He hates being left out of the action. Don’t you, you spoiled brat?”

Too involved with sniffing tree roots, the dachshund didn’t reply. “Of course,” she continued, “now that he’s out here with us, he’ll ignore us.”

“Proof things aren’t always what they seem.”

What was that odd statement supposed to mean? Cocking her head, she gave him a long, questioning look, hoping for an answer, but his face remained, like always, a sphinxlike mask.

Suddenly, something he said hit her. “Did you say I got a delivery?” Couldn’t be the bat house. Probably a package from Caroline. Some item her
assistant deemed vital to quality living no doubt, like an espresso maker or a big fat sign emblazoned with her deadline dates.

Jake answered without intonation. “On the back step.”

Zoe looked. Then looked again to make sure she saw correctly. Sure enough, a floral arrangement in shades of pink sat by the back door. She’d been so focused on Jake and Reynaldo, she hadn’t noticed.

A pretty amazing feat given the arrangement’s size. The thing was huge. An over-the-top array of roses, calla lilies and delphinium, the kind of bouquet you’d send when trying to impress. Zoe knew only one person who would make such a grand-scale gesture. She slipped the card from its small white envelope.

Need you forever. Love, Paul

“I didn’t know the island had a florist,” she murmured. The lame comment was all she could muster. How had he known where to find her? Certainly not from Caroline.

“Doesn’t. Came over on the ferry from the mainland.”

Paul certainly had outdone himself. She’d never seen such an amazing arrangement. The roses were as big as her fist. Her finger traced a pale pink petal. Such a beautiful, delicate flower.

Too bad he wasted his money.

Picking up the arrangement, she walked over to the side of her garage.

And dropped the bouquet in the trash.

H
ER
scalp tingled. Jake stood behind her, staring down. She waited for his comment, his question, whatever. After all, not every day did you get to see a woman trash a three-hundred-dollar floral arrangement.

He said nothing.

“I’m going for a walk,” she announced, turning abruptly. She needed fresh air to clear away the scent of roses.

Unlike the early morning when only a handful of people dotted the shore, the beach at this time of day was full. Or as full as it could be prior to tourist season. At the public end of the strip, the morning’s fishermen had been replaced by a line of multicolored umbrellas and beach towels. Mothers watched toddlers build sand castles. The sound of radios drifted on the wind.

Zoe headed to her left, where the rocks from the jetty formed a tiered tower. Part way up, they flattened, creating a large overhang. It was here
she settled, leaning back and letting her legs over the edge. Beneath her feet, the waves crashed over smaller rocks, white foam bubbling into tide pools.

“Hey.”

Looking up, she saw Jake approaching, a mug of coffee in his hands. “Took a coffee break,” he said.

With impressive agility, he ascended the rocks and joined her. Handing her the mug, he settled himself on the rock next to her. When he was settled, she attempted to hand the cup back, only to have him shake his head.

“Thought you said you took a coffee break.”

“I did. Didn’t feel like drinking coffee is all.”

But he’d brought her one. Gratitude, and something else—something stronger—built inside her. She took a sip, hoping it would push away the thickness in her throat. “Funny, I remember these rocks being much taller when I was little,” she said.

“Things always look different when we’re kids.”

“True.” She stared into her mug. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“Ask what?”

“Why I threw away the flowers.”

“Figured you didn’t like pink.”

If he meant the remark to cheer her up, it worked; she smiled. Of course he wouldn’t ask. She should have realized.

“They were from my ex-husband,” she told him anyway. Since they’d met, she’d overshared. Why
stop now? “He must have gotten my address from my mother. Lord knows how, since she never liked him. Said his teeth were too white.”

Jake’s brow knit in confusion.

“He’s a golf pro,” she continued with a shrug, as if that would explain. “At least, he tries to be. He claims he can’t make it on the tour without my support. I caught him sleeping with a cocktail waitress at one of the tournaments. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t the first. Guess my support wasn’t enough.”

Or she wasn’t enough.
The silent fear that continually plagued her subconscious made its way to the forefront of her thoughts. She tried to laugh it off, but the noise came out more a squeaky sigh. “My own fault really. Like I told you yesterday, I’m a sucker for sad stories. But—” she raised the cup to her lips for another sip “—not anymore. From here on in, I ride solo. I won’t get used again.”

“Wise decision.”

Says the man who swore off the world. “Thank you.”

Spray from the waves splashed across her ankles, dampening her jeans. The sudden splatter of cold on her skin made her yelp. It took some getting used to the New England waters. Damn stuff didn’t warm until July or August, if it warmed at all.

“What’s this place like in the winter?” she asked Jake.

“Thinking of hiding here year-round?”

The idea had merit, this morning anyway. “Wondering, is all.”

“Cold,” he replied. “Raw. Most of the businesses close up except for the hardware store and a couple others. You can go days without seeing another person.”

“Sounds…” She was about to say “lonely,” but realized the isolation was what he wanted. The idea of him holed up alone all winter shouldn’t upset her, but it did.

Knowing any commentary would be unwelcome, she went back to studying the tide pool. From her perch she could see the ripples left by small fish as they snacked on algae.

“Look,” she said, catching sight of five spiny rays out of the corner of her eye, “a sea star. I’ve never seen one up close before. Not outside an aquarium.”

“According to the fishermen, there’s been an increase in numbers the last couple years. I gather they’re not happy to see them around.”

“They may not be, but I am. I’m going to get a closer look.” Setting down her coffee, she slipped off her sandals and slid downward, searching with her toes until she found purchase. After a few tries, she finally found a small rock an inch or so above the water she could lower down onto. Unfortunately, her stepping stone could only accommodate one foot so she was forced to balance on one leg.

“This might be harder than I thought,” she said.
“Been a while since my gymnastics days. My center of gravity’s not what it used to be.”

“Looks fine to me.”

The blush that shot down from her head to her toes did not help her balance. Surely he didn’t mean the comment
that
way. Glancing up in his direction, she saw no indication in his expression that would refute the thought.

To cover her reaction, she kept talking. “My specialty was tumbling. Coach said I had powerful legs. Which was a polite way of saying I couldn’t keep still. Ants in my pants, my mother used to say.”

Steadying herself with one hand, she slowly crouched down. “Will you look at this beauty?” she said, lifting the yellow-orange creature to get a better look at the suckers on its underside. “The summer we stayed here, my dad and I would go scavenging on the beach. I got very good at finding dismembered crab claws and empty skate cases.”

“Priceless items to a little girl,” Jake said from above.

“Exactly. I had a whole treasure chest filled with booty. Well, a shoebox full anyway. Those were fun times.” She tried—and failed—to keep a note of melancholy from slipping into her voice.

“How old were you when you stopped coming?”

“Seven. My father got sick that winter. We only got to spend one summer.” From then on, life became
about staying out of the way and not being a burden.
Settle down, Zoe. You’re not helping.

“We didn’t get to do a lot of things,” she said in a low voice. A chill ran up her leg. She blamed the cold water.

“We didn’t live near the beach, but our town had a pool. My brother and I would ride our bikes there every afternoon.”

Zoe wasn’t sure what surprised her more: that Jake shared a personal memory or that he had a family. For some reason, she’d assumed he was alone in the world.
Because that’s the way he wanted it to be.
Knowing the truth, however, made his isolation even sadder.

“Where’s your family now?” she asked.

“My dad’s in Florida. I’m not sure where Steven is. New York, I think. We’ve…” He picked at the sand on the rock. “We’ve, uh, lost touch.”

In other words, he cut ties with them.
Such a shame.

“No, it’s not.”

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. However now that the words were out, she saw no reason not to continue. “You don’t think your family misses you?”

“My family’s better off.” The air stilled while he sipped from her coffee cup. Zoe’s insides stilled as well. Did he really believe such a thing? That his family wouldn’t want him around?

He must have sensed her question. “I’m not the same person they knew before. I don’t have anything to offer them. Not anymore.”

“You don’t know—”

“Yes, I do.”

Zoe bit her lip. She disagreed, but arguing would only close him off again, and she didn’t want to spoil this tenuous whatever-you-want-to-call-it they’d formed.

Looking down, she realized, guiltily, she still held the starfish in her hand. “Sorry, little guy. Didn’t mean to forget about you.”
It’s just that the man sitting on the rocks tends to make the rest of the world fade away.

She set the creature back under water, on the rock she found him on. “Wonder what other critters we might find if we looked.”

“Dismembered crab claws and smashed clams, most likely.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Never said I was.”

Bet he was once. Before the demons took hold. Suddenly, she was possessed by an idea. Frivolous, perhaps, but if she could get him to go for it, well…it might do him some good. “Want to come on a scavenger hunt with me?”

The minute she made the suggestion, Jake chuckled. A low throaty rumble that came from deep within his chest and made her long to hear a full-blown
laugh. “You want me to help you look for broken seashells?”

“Don’t forget skate cases. Finding the starfish has me feeling nostalgic. Plus, a walk on the beach is exactly what I need to clear my head.”

“So take the tube of terror.”

“Reynaldo would only try and eat my discoveries, and as good a companion as he is, sometimes it’s nice to have a human being around to talk to.”
Something you need to realize, too.
“What do you say? Will you keep me company?”

Jake shook his head. “I don’t think so, Zoe.”

“Bet I can find more sea glass than you.”

Again, he gave a chuckle. God, but the sound was musical. “Are you always so persistent?”

“Yes.” It was, as Paul used to say, one of her most annoying qualities. Not knowing when to quit. In this case, she probably should. Quit, that is. But she couldn’t. Somehow in the last two minutes, her frivolous idea had become a challenge. This was the most open she’d seen Jake since they’d met. She couldn’t shake the idea that if he allowed himself to relax, Jake might let down some of those walls he’d built around himself.

And okay, she wanted to keep this whatever-it-was going on a little longer. Given Jake’s mercurial moods, who knew how long it might last?

“A half-hour walk. That’s all I’m asking. Then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

From the way he shook his head, she was ready for another refusal. It surprised her, therefore, when one didn’t come. “One half hour. And then you’ll leave me alone?”

Zoe smiled, thrilled with her victory. “Scout’s honor.”

What the hell was he doing? First, against all reason, he brought Zoe a cup of coffee. No, he didn’t simply bring her coffee; he sat and listened to her problems. Now here he was beachcombing, for God’s sake. He’d lost his freaking mind.

Actually, he could explain the coffee. From the moment she moved in, Zoe had this annoying sparkle about her, a kind of energy that made her impossible to ignore. When she saw the flowers, that sparkle dimmed. Her features fell and she lost all expression. It reminded him of the reflection he saw in the mirror every morning. Except, on Zoe, the melancholy and flat, mirthless eyes looked all wrong. So, when she threw away the roses and retreated to the beach, he felt compelled to check on her. To make sure the dimness was only temporary. Naushatucket didn’t need two empty souls.

All right, maybe he was curious, too. The flower delivery bugged him for some reason. Who the hell sends flowers over on the damn ferry? He knew they were from the ex as soon as she tossed them, and he
wanted to know what kind of man could snuff out Zoe’s brightness.

Come to think of it, that brightness was to blame for this whole beachcombing craziness, too. Her whole damn face lit up finding that starfish; he was afraid to say no and watch it dim again.

Yeah, he didn’t want to disappoint her. That was the reason he agreed.

It certainly wasn’t because she looked sexy as hell standing ankle-deep in the tide pool.

Nor was that the reason he was still accompanying her long after the half-hour mark had passed.

The tide had come in. Formations that previously rose ten feet out of the water were now half-sub-merged, making exploration difficult, but Zoe didn’t seem to care. She scrambled up and over the rocks, scouring the sand and tide pools. Her most exciting discovery so far was a sea slug—a sighting that had her wrinkling her nose and uttering a high-pitched “Eww!”

He himself wasn’t doing too much searching. He found watching her way more entertaining. How she caught her lower lip between her teeth while she concentrated and how, when she thought she spied something, she would kneel down and bring her face close to the object she wanted to study. He simply walked along behind her, carrying both their shoes. Been a long time since he’d felt cool moist sand under between his toes.

“And once again, I’ve cornered the market on skate cases.” Zoe tossed a four-pronged hollow tube at his feet. Jake laughed.

The sound sent guilt tearing through him. This wasn’t right. Him, relaxing. Laughing. Enjoying himself.

Why couldn’t he stop?

Meanwhile, Zoe had scrambled her way to the top of yet another rock formation and now appeared stuck. Jake knew why. The rocks on this section of the beach were particularly mossy, and when covered with water, hard to stand on.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I think I can make it. If I look where I’m going.” Gingerly, she stepped down, her foot finding a moss-covered point.

Jake saw the impending calamity before it happened. The moss, soaked from waves, had become a blanket of slime that, when it met with Zoe’s wet foot, became even more slippery. She immediately lost her balance and fell. The momentum propelled her forward, and she wound up half falling, half running down the remaining three rocks. Acting on instinct, Jake moved in to catch her, reaching the base in time for Zoe to land full-force onto him. Together they fell backward in a heap, Jake sprawled in the sand, Zoe sprawled across him.

As soon as they each caught their breath, Zoe said, matter-of-factly, “I slipped.”

“No kidding,” he replied.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shook his head. “My backside caught the brunt of the impact.”

“That’s good— Oh, your hip!” She pushed herself up from his chest. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be.” The pain in his hip was nothing compared to the throbbing that flared elsewhere along his body when she shifted her weight. Heat, primal and instinctive, spread to every part of him. He’d felt every inch of her tiny frame, from her hips pressed against him, to her toes tickling the denim of his jeans.