A Brambleberry Summer Read online

  “You know he will help.”

  “Yes. If there was anything he could do, but there’s not. I cannot run from shadows for the rest of my life. Aaron would have no reason to know I’m here. He doesn’t know one of my dearest friends lives here. I never mentioned you to him. And if it was his friend, he couldn’t possibly recognize me. I don’t look the same. I’ve lost thirty pounds, my hair is shorter and a different color. I have contacts now instead of glasses. He would have no reason to even connect Jen Ryan with the woman he knew as Jenna Haynes.”

  Rosa was still not convinced. She had heard the fear, the sheer terror in Jenna’s voice when Rosa had called her. She thought it would just be a regular phone call to wish her a happy birthday. Instead, Jenna had spewed out such a story of horror that Rosa had been physically sick to her stomach.

  “You must come here,” she had told her college friend firmly in that phone call. “I have an empty apartment right now. Just bring Addie and come tonight.”

  “I can’t drag you into this,” Jen had replied through her tears. “You’ve been through enough.”

  “That is why I have to help you. You are my friend. I cannot let you live in fear if you do not have to. Come to Oregon, where this man does not know anyone. You will be safe here.”

  Jen had been desperate enough to escape her situation that she had finally agreed, leaving in the middle of the night with only their clothes.

  She was finally beginning to relax and enjoy her life again. Rosa hated to think of her living in fear again.

  “Please. Consider talking to Wyatt,” she said now. “He knows something is wrong. He asked me about it the other night. You know he is a good man. He will do what he can to keep you safe.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Jen finally said. Color had returned and she seemed to be breathing more easily, Rosa was glad to see.

  “Give me a moment and I will give you a ride home.”

  Worried that the man stalking her had put a trace on her vehicle, Jen had traded her car in the Boise area for an older model sedan that had seen better days. It was currently in the shop, where it had been for several days.

  Jen shook her head. “No. Thank you, though. I would rather walk.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s less than a mile and I can pick up Addie on the way. The walk will clear my head.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jen nodded. Her features grew soft. “I meant what I said earlier. I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. You’ve given me hope that someday soon I will stop looking over my shoulder. I wish there was some way I could repay you.”

  “You have, a hundred times. I love seeing you take back your life. You and Addie deserve everything wonderful I know is in store for you.”

  Jen smiled, though traces of panic still lingered in her eyes. As soon as she left, Rosa almost picked up her phone and called Wyatt herself, but she decided against it. Jenna’s story was her own. She had her reasons for keeping it to herself.

  Rosa, who had plenty of secrets of her own, could not fault her for that, even though she knew Wyatt was the kind of man who would do everything he could to keep Jenna and Addie safe.

  Chapter Nine

  After leaving Carol and another of her part-time workers to close the store, Rosa returned to Brambleberry House tired, but in a strange, restless mood. She needed to bake something. The urge did not hit her very often, but when it did, she tried to go with it.

  Baking reminded her of her mother. Maria Elena had been an amazing baker who used to make delicious delicacies she would sometimes sell in the market. Anything to make a few lempiras.

  Rosa still liked making the treats of her childhood, but today she was feeling more like good old-fashioned chocolate-chip cookies, a treat she had come to love as a teenager.

  She was just taking the first batch out of the oven when her phone rang. For a moment, she thought about ignoring it. Hardly anyone ever reached out to her with a phone call anymore, unless there was some kind of trouble. It might be Lauren, though, who still liked to have long chats on the phone since they couldn’t connect as often in person.

  Without looking at the caller ID, she tapped her earbud to answer the call as she slid the tray of cookies onto the cooling rack and put the next tray into the oven.

  “Buenas,” she said, distracted.

  “Hello?” a male voice replied. “Is this Rosa Galvez?”

  Her heartbeat accelerated as she recognized Wyatt.

  Oh, this was so stupid. They had shared one kiss. Granted, it had been earthshaking for her, but that did not explain why she became weak in the knees, simply knowing he was on the other end of a telephone call.

  She was tempted for a moment to tell him “no, wrong number,” and disconnect the call. That would be childish, though. What was the point of hiding from the reality that she was falling for a completely inappropriate man?

  “Si. Yes. This is Rosa.”

  “Hola, Rosa. This is Wyatt Townsend. From downstairs.”

  As if she knew any other Wyatt Townsends who could make her head spin. “Yes. I know. Is everything all right?”

  He sighed. “Not really. I have a little problem and was wondering if I could ask for your help.”

  The word shocked her. Wyatt was not the sort of man who could ask for help easily. “Of course. What do you need?”

  “I just got called to cover an emergency and Carrie, Joe and Bella have gone to Portland. They’re leaving for San Francisco from there. I’m in a bind and need someone to watch Logan for a few hours.”

  “Of course,” she said instantly. “Fiona and I would be glad to help you. I can be down in ten minutes, as soon as I take some cookies out of the oven.”

  “You don’t have to come down. I can bring him upstairs to you. He’s used to sleeping on the couch.”

  “Don’t be silly. He would be more comfortable in his own bed. We will be there in ten minutes.”

  She had more dough, but decided she could put it in the refrigerator for now and later freeze it for another day.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that. Hopefully I won’t be gone past midnight.”

  “Even if you are, I won’t mind,” she assured him. “I’ll be down soon.”

  While she waited for the timer, she gathered her laptop and a small knitting project she had been working on. She also waited for the first batch of cookies to cool enough before transferring them to a plate to take downstairs with her. As soon as the timer went off, she turned off her oven, pulled out the cookie tray and transferred the cookies to another cooling rack, then headed down the stairs with Fiona following close behind her.

  Wyatt opened the door before she could knock, as if he had been watching for her.

  “I’m really sorry about this.”

  “Please do not apologize. I’m happy to do it.”

  “Logan is already in bed. He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

  She was disappointed that she wouldn’t have a chance to hang out with the sweet boy and teach him more Spanish words. She would have enjoyed reading him a story and tucking him in.

  “Too bad. I brought him some cookies. Ah, well. He can have one when he wakes up.”

  “If I don’t eat them all first. They look delicious.”

  He smiled and she had to remind herself she was here to watch his child, not to moon over the boy’s father.

  She did her best to ignore how fiercely she wanted to kiss him again. It helped to focus on the gleaming badge he was wearing over the pocket of his sports coat, which reminded her of all the differences between them.

  “Anything special I need to know or do?”

  “Not really. Since the fire, Logan does have the occasional nightmare. If he has one, you only have to stay close and help talk him through it until he falls back asleep.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, pobrecito,” she exclaimed.

  His eyes seemed to soften. “Yeah. He’s been through a few things. The nightmares are not as frequent as they were right after the fire. He probably won’t even wake up but I wanted to warn you, just in case.”

  “Got it.”

  “Thank you again.”

  “Do not worry about things here. Go take care of what you have to do. I will be here. And take a cookie with you.”

  He grabbed one with a smile that left her feeling slightly light-headed. She told herself it was because she had only eaten a warm cookie for dinner.

  After he left, she was again struck by how Wyatt and Logan had settled into the space. A video-game controller sat on the coffee table, along with a trio of plastic dinosaurs and several early-reader chapter books.

  The house smelled like Wyatt, that combination of scents she couldn’t pinpoint. She only knew it reminded her of walking through a forest after a rainstorm.

  A light was on next to the easy chair in the sunroom. She wandered in and found a mystery novel with a bookmark halfway through on the side table. A small bowl of popcorn sat next to it.

  Rosa’s own limited detective skills told her he must have been reading and enjoying a snack when he got the call from work. She liked thinking about him here, enjoying the sound of the ocean in the night through the screens.

  While Fiona found a comfortable spot on the rug next to Hank, Rosa continued on her tour. She briefly went to the room she knew Logan used and opened the door a crack to check on him.

  The boy was sleeping soundly, sprawled across the bed with a shoebox that looked like it contained treasures tucked nearby.

  She fought the urge to go to him, to smooth away the hair falling into his eyes.

  The night of the storm, Wyatt had said Logan was a sound sleeper, but she still didn’t want to run the risk of waking him and having him be confused at finding her here and not his father.

  She did, however, take a moment to adjust the blanket more solidly over his shoulders.

  Oh, he was dear boy. Just looking at him made her smile. He looked a great deal like his father, but his lighter coloring and the shape of his nose must have come from his mother’s side.

  Rosa had to wonder about the woman. She had seen a picture of them all together at Carrie and Joe’s house. She had been pretty, blonde, delicate-looking.

  Carrie had told her Tori Townsend had been a talented artist and writer, in addition to a school guidance counselor. Though she had been a runner who regularly worked out, she had tragically died of a previously undiagnosed heart condition at a shockingly young age.

  Logan must grieve for her terribly, she thought. Both of them must. It made her heart ache, thinking of this sweet boy growing up without his mother.

  At least he had a father who doted on him and an aunt, uncle and cousin who showered love and affection on him, as well.

  After she had assured herself Logan was sleeping comfortably, she returned to the living area. It felt strange to be here in Wyatt’s space without him. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself.

  She finally turned on the audiobook she was listening to through her ear pods and picked up her knitting. While the dogs slept tangled together at her feet, she worked and listened to the audiobook above the sound of the wind in the trees and the ever-present song of the ocean.

  The chair was comfortable and her day had been long. Soon she gave in to the inevitable and closed her eyes, thinking she would only doze for a moment.

  * * *

  She had a dream she was running. It was cold, bitterly cold, and she was barefoot. She was so afraid, not only for herself. She had nowhere to go and the winter snow blew past her and through her. So cold. Always so cold. She had been used to sunshine and heat and could never seem to warm up here.

  Everything hurt. Her face, her arms, her stomach where she had been kicked and beaten. She needed help but didn’t know where to go.

  And then she saw him. A police officer. She thought at first it was Daniel but as he came closer she saw it was Wyatt, looking down at her with concern.

  “What happened? Why are you running?”

  She shook her head, too afraid to tell him. What would he think if he knew? He would never look at her the same way.

  “It does not matter,” she told the dream Wyatt. “I must keep running. If I don’t, they will find me.”

  “Who?”

  “The ghosts,” she told him. Tears were running down her face. She could feel them dripping down her cheeks and reached to brush one away but it dried before she could touch it.

  “I will protect you. I’m with the policia. Just like Daniel. Trust me, Rosa. Trust me. Trust me.”

  As she watched, the fear still coursing through her with every heartbeat, his image grew more and more faint until he completely disappeared, leaving her alone again.

  * * *

  She awoke with gritty eyes, a dry mouth and the unsettling sensation that she was not alone.

  Rosa blinked for a moment in the darkness, not sure exactly where she was. Not her bedroom in Brambleberry House. She would remember that. Not her room at her parents’ home in Utah, either.

  A man was there, she suddenly realized. She could see the outline of him in the darkness. She struggled up, tangled in yarn, as instinctive fear and dark memories crowded through her, leaving little room for rational thought.

  She had to escape. Run. Hide.

  A hand was suddenly on her arm. “Easy. It’s okay. It’s me.”

  The voice, calm and measured, seemed to pierce her sudden panic. She knew that voice. Wyatt Townsend.

  Was this still part of her nightmare?

  Not a nightmare. She blinked a little more as the room came into focus and her consciousness seemed to calibrate again. Right. She had been watching his son for him while he went out to a crime scene and she must have fallen asleep.

  Rosa drew in a deep, shuddering breath, embarrassed that she had given in to unreasonable panic for a moment. She thought she had come too far for that.

  “You startled me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just debating if you would be more annoyed with me for waking you or for letting you sleep here until the morning.”

  “I am not annoyed with you,” she assured him. “I was having a bad dream. I am glad you woke me from it.”

  “Do you mind if I turn on the lamp?”

  She probably looked horrible, with her hair tangled and her eyes shadowed. She carefully reached a hand up to her cheek and was relieved when she didn’t feel any moisture. The tears must have only been in her dream.

  “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

  He did, and that’s when she saw the fatigue in his eyes. This was more than physical, she realized instinctively. Something was very wrong. She wasn’t sure how she knew but there was an energy that seemed to be seething around him. Something dark and sad.

  “What is it?” She could not resist asking, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. “What has happened?”

  He released a sigh that sounded heavy and tired. “It was a long, difficult night. That’s all.”

  Whatever he had been dealing with seemed to have impacted him deeply.

  She had seen that look before on her adopted father’s face when he would return from a bad crime scene or accident. He would walk in the door and go immediately to Lauren, wherever she was, and would hold her tightly, as if she was his only safe haven in a terrible storm. She would hold him, comfort him, help him put the pieces of his soul back together before she sent him out again to help someone else.

  She could not do that for Wyatt and it made her sad, suddenly. She was no one’s safe haven.

  “How can I help? Can I make you some tea?”

  As soon as she made the offer, she thought it was silly
to have even suggested it, but for some reason she thought something warm and comforting might be exactly what he needed to ease the turmoil.

  He gave a ragged sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I don’t have any tea. And before you say you’ve got some upstairs and it will only take you a moment to run and get it, I’ll tell you thank you but no. I probably need sleep more than anything. And maybe one of your cookies, but I might save those for breakfast.”

  “Are you certain? I don’t mind going to get tea.”

  He shook his head. “No. You have done more than enough. I’m sorry I kept you so late.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Nearly two. I thought I would be back long before now but the case was...more complicated than I expected.”

  “I do not mind. I was glad to help.”

  “I’m deeply grateful to you for staying with Logan. Let’s get you back home so you can at least spend a few hours in your own bed.”

  She rose, again fighting the urge to go to him, wrap her arms around his waist and let him lean on her for a moment.

  “Did everything go okay with Logan?” he asked. “No nightmares?”

  She’d had one but hadn’t heard a peep out of the boy. “Yes. Just fine. I checked on him when I first arrived and he was sleeping soundly. He doesn’t keep the blanket on, though, does he?”

  “Not usually. Sometimes I go in three or four times a night to fix it. He rolls around like he’s doing gymnastics in his sleep. Once when we went camping, I actually woke up with bruises on my rib cage from him kicking me in his sleep.”

  He was a good father who adored his child. She could picture him checking on the boy and making sure he was warm in the night. It touched her heart.

  “I cannot think you enough for coming down at the last minute and helping out. None of our usual babysitters were available. With Carrie and Joe out of town, I didn’t know what else to do.”