Beautifully Wounded (The Beaumont Brothers) (5 page)

Jackson

Doc and I walked to the bar, and Doc wiped his brow frowning at me. “She said she’d been driving for about six hours, Jack, which would indicate that her injuries aren’t as bad as they look. Sometimes adrenalin kicks in and takes over and you don’t realize how much pain you’re actually in. I’ve seen it before. She ought to be careful and take it easy for a while. That bump on the back of her head is nasty—so for the next twenty-four hours, no sleeping longer than a couple of hours at a time. You know the drill.”

“Yeah, I do.” I nodded, remember
ing the time Brodie and I went snowboarding last winter. Brodie tried to be a little too macho, and went way too fast on a jump. He landed on his head, and for several seconds he couldn’t even feel his legs. The ski patrol had to come and tow him down the mountain. It had to have been the scariest moment in my life.

Doc placed his hand on
my shoulder. “Jackson, what the fuck are you getting yourself into? You know she’s lying, you know someone beat the crap out of her. Most likely a boyfriend or husband, and you know he’s gonna come looking for her. She should be in a shelter for battered women where she can get the proper care and attention she needs, but shit, considering you called me, I guess that would be out of the question. Did you know she doesn’t even have any clothes on under that coat?”

I crossed my arms over my chest
, and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I noticed that, and yes, a shelter would be a great place for her, but I know there has to be a good reason she didn’t go to one. A reason she hasn’t divulged yet. She’s scared. I know I’m a sucker for the wounded, but I want to help.”

“Look, Jack, I know you only have the best intentions, but I have a weird feeling about this.
It could have been a rape. A lot of women lie about that and won’t go to the police, but if it wasn’t, then some mean son-of-a-bitch husband did this to her, and getting mixed up in domestic affairs with strangers is bad news. You don’t know what kind of maniac did this.”

“
She doesn’t seem old enough to have a husband,” I said thoughtfully, thinking about Jonah White and Emily Baker who’d gotten married right out of high school and reconsidered. “I’ll find out.” I knew I could. I just needed some time—or rather, she needed time to trust me. I wanted to make sure she felt safe, and didn’t want her to think I'd betray her trust. I wanted her to know that I’d keep my word and wouldn’t call the authorities. I also knew that in rape cases, if this was a rape case, Doc was right. Some women would go the police after a rape, but there were many who wouldn’t. But something told me this wasn’t some random attack. She was more frightened than distressed. I felt sure she was running from someone. “It would be best if you kept this to yourself, okay?”

Doc shook his head
but said, “Yeah, sure.”

As he turned to
leave I placed my hand on his back. “Doc, thanks. I’ll see you later. Come in early. I’ll buy you a beer before you go on tonight.” I patted Doc on the shoulder as we walked toward the door. I wanted to make sure to lock it after he left.

“
Yeah? Fucking A, you can buy me a few. How’s that?”

“
Deal.”

After shutting the door and locking it,
I turned to see Brodie standing on the other side of the bar drying a beer glass with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. I pointed a finger at him about to tell him to wipe the smirk off his face and mind his own business when Lana walked out of the office, tugging her coat tightly together.

She didn’t
make an excuse to bolt as I thought she might. Instead, she smiled with chagrin and went to sit back at the bar.

“
Oh, Lana, this is my brother Brodie.”

“
Hello,” Brodie said still wiping the same glass he’d been drying for the past couple of minutes.

“
Hello.”

I wanted
Brodie to leave, so I gestured my head toward the back, but he ignored me. “Don’t you have some beer to put away back there?”

“
Oh,” he said, feigning stupidity, or maybe it was real. “Yeah. Ah ... nice to meet you, Lana.”

I
poured her more coffee after dumping the cold one out, again.

“
Um ... Jackson.”

“
Yeah?”

Her eyes connect
ed with mine. “Actually, it’s Lena,” she said, finally admitting to lying about her name. “And thanks. Sorry I lied about my name.” Progress, I thought and smiled, keeping my eyes on hers. God, beneath the black and blue and the swelling, she had gorgeous eyes.

“
You’re welcome, Lena. According to Doc, you need rest and time to recuperate.” I was glad she decided to trust me enough to tell me her real name—at least her first name.

“
I got that. Only problem is I don’t know where that should be. Are there any inexpensive hotels around here?”

“
No. No inexpensive ones, but today’s your lucky day. Well, lucky from here on out.”

“
How’s that?” she asked, sipping the hot coffee.

“
Well, lucky you walked in to
my
bar, and lucky that just last week the tenant who rented the cottage above my garage moved out, and I haven’t re-rented it yet. You can stay there while you heal if you’d like. It's furnished.”

She fell silent for a moment then asked,
“How much?”

“No charge.”

“No. I couldn’t do that.”

“
Yes you can. Please, trust me.”

She sighed and shook her head.
“Trusting you isn’t the issue. I want to, but I’m not a charity case. I would like to pay you.”

“We can discuss that later. For now, you need to be somewhere safe
, and my cottage is perfect.”

“
Are you sure?”

“
I insist.”

“
I could pay you some now. I don’t have much money, but ...”

“
Tell you what, when your eye heals, and you feel well enough, you can provide me the pleasure of hearing you play some more on my guitar. Maybe join in some night here at the bar. How’s that sound?”

“
I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me, nor do I know if ... well, my gut tells me I should trust you. But then, I don’t know. I haven’t done so great in the trusting-men-department lately, so forgive me if I sound a bit skeptical here, but why do you care?”

“
Let’s just say I like the way you played my Dreadnought.”

Brodie
came out from the back room carrying a case of beer. “Don’t you think we should open the door now? It’s getting close to eleven-thirty.”

He set
the case down and started stocking the fridge.

I
looked at Lena as she grabbed her coat closed tighter. “Give us a minute and we’ll be out of here. I’m going to show Lena the cottage and get her settled in.”

“
The cottage?” Brodie frowned then shook his head as he lined the small refrigerator with the rest of the beer, emptying the case. We were close for brothers, not only in age—Brodie being only eleven months younger—but close friends as well.

“
Okay, Jackie,” he said with a bit of a shrill to his voice, sending a shiver down my back. He knew it would irritate me—always had, ever since we were kids when Jenny Casings wrote Jackie and Jenny all over the girls’ bathroom in elementary school. From then on, it was a continuous tease of Jackie and Jenny, J and J, Jackie loves Jenny. It was a small town, and I had to grow up hearing Jackie and Jenny most of my life. It got worse in eighth grade when I had actually given in, and agreed to go with Jenny Casings to the Sadie Hawkins dance. She had a crush on me since second grade, and never quite got over me until Brad Sims came along in high school and swept her off her feet. Thank God. Then she became Mrs. Brad Sims, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. It wasn’t that Jenny was bad looking or anything; she just talked incessantly, which annoyed the hell out of me.

Although
I knew Lena could drive—she’d driven all morning—I didn’t think she should anymore in her condition. So, we left her car on the street by the bar. She didn’t strike me as the type of woman to put up with abuse, but perhaps that’s why she was running. If so, I had to give her credit.

The
guest cottage stood behind the main house on a huge lot my uncle had owned. I pulled my car to the back and stopped in front of the garage door. In order to get to the cottage we’d need to walk up a steep set of stairs beside the garage, and I wasn’t entirely sure Lena would be able to make the climb. I went to offer her a hand up the stairs as she quailed, and I wondered if she cowered out of fear or habit. I held on to her anyway, determined to win her trust, and helped her up the long flight of stairs that led to the front door. To the left of the landing at the top of the stairs our newly installed wood deck balcony graced the front and protruded out above the garage doors. “It’s not much, but it should meet your needs for a few days or however long you need it.”

Lena
almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of the deep, rough bark that came from half way up the stairs as my massive hound dog, complete with drooping ears and loose wrinkled skin, came trudging up with drool dripping from his jowls.

“
That’d be Rufus. He’ll be your best friend if you rub behind his ears. Otherwise, he’ll just lie beside your feet. Though if you’re not careful, he just might lie on top of them, and believe me, he can be quite heavy.”

“
Hi there, Rufus.” Lena let go of her coat, crouched down to the dog and rubbed the loose wrinkled skin around his ears as I opened the door to the cottage. “He’s great, how old is he?” she asked, letting the dog slobber all over her.

“
Ah, he’s about five now. He seems to like you, but if you’re not careful, you’re going to need a bath after he finishes drooling all over you.”

“
Yeah, well, I need a bath anyway, huh Rufus,” she said with a low voice, pouting her lips as she spoke close to the dog’s head, making my fondness for her grow immensely.

Her coat hung off her shoulder revealing soft looking white skin
, and surprise came over me as I realized I was staring. I thought maybe I should reach down and tug it up before Rufus nuzzled it down any further, but then decided to let it go. I had to remind myself to be careful, she was in no shape for what was going through my mind. “He’s a great tracker, but voracious. He eats about ten pounds of dog food a week.”

Lena stood
up and pulled her coat closed as she walked through the door I held open. “Thanks.” She stepped in, glanced around. “This is perfect.”

“
It's just a one-room deal, furnished with a small daybed, a couple of end tables, and an old television. There's a small kitchen with your basic ceramic sink, refrigerator, and small stove. The bathroom has a shower and a small tub that you can soak in … if you want.” I cleared my throat as I forced that picture out of my head. I really needed to get a handle on where my mind was going. This girl was injured, in more ways than one.

“
Um ... listen, I have some clothes you could put on. Nothing fancy, and I’m sure they’ll be three sizes too big for you, but at least you won’t have to wear your coat all the time. I’ll go get them. I live in the house down there.” I pointed to the large three story stone house that sat on the other side of the driveway in front of our massive backyard—close to two acres—spanning down to the three-foot wide creek that flowed most of the year.

Lena glanced out the window.
“You mean that park down there is part of your backyard? I guess with a dog like Rufus you would need a backyard that size.”

“
Yeah. You sit. Relax. I’ll be right back. Rufus stay.”

It was
n't like me to eavesdrop, and I had full intentions of walking straight down those steps, but when I closed the door I heard her speaking to Rufus, and the sound of her sweet fragile voice had me frozen in my steps.