The Protector's Mission. Margaret Daley

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      “We’re interviewing a lot of people who were there earlier or on that street sometime that morning. You’re not our only hope.”

      Jesse pulled into her driveway, the same house he would pick her up at as a teenager. A memory flashed into his mind—of kissing her on the front porch. Eons ago when he was a different person. His chest tightened. He wouldn’t go down that path again.

      “I’ll see you to your door.”

      “Will you stay until Kate comes home from school?”

      “I—I...” He didn’t want to be with her any more than necessary, but one look into her pale face and he couldn’t say no. “Fine. When does she get home? I’ll need to let Thomas know what I’m doing.”

      Lydia checked the clock on the dashboard. “No more than an hour. She carpools with a few friends.”

      As they walked slowly toward the house, Jesse just thought of something. “How are you going to get in? Your purse was destroyed by the bomb.”

      She slipped her hand into her jean pocket and pulled out a key. “Bree had the locks changed and gave a key to me and Kate. Alex went grocery shopping for me, so I won’t have to do that right away. My friends have been so helpful, especially with Kate. Reconnecting with Bree and Alex when I came back to Anchorage has made my return home easier.” Lydia opened her front door and entered.

      Jesse followed, scanning the house. He was glad he’d taken Brutus home so he could run and play in his large fenced backyard. These past days, his K-9 had worked long hours and needed the break.

      Lydia dropped the small bag of clothes Bree had brought her in the hospital on a chair in the spacious living room and walked through the dining room toward the kitchen. “I’m fixing myself a good cup of tea. What they had at the hospital isn’t what I call tea. Do you want some?”

      “I’m a coffee drinker. No, thanks.”

      As he strolled through the house, snatches of his time spent here continued to bombard him. Lydia always had to come right home from school to babysit her little sister who stayed with a neighbor until Lydia arrived. Her dad didn’t get off work until six and sometimes didn’t come home right away. Lydia hated being alone and usually their friends would gather at her place.

      Jesse caught sight of a recent photo of Lydia with her younger sister. Picking up the framed picture, he realized he hadn’t seen much of Kate since those early years. She looked a lot like Lydia at the same age. Quickly he returned the photograph to the end table.

      Why had he agreed to stay until Kate got home? He didn’t want to be pulled into Lydia’s world again, and yet he had allowed himself to be persuaded to wait an hour.

      “I have some...” Lydia opened the refrigerator “...I guess only water. Kate likes soft drinks, but there are none in here.”

      “Water is fine.” He remained in the entrance of the dining room until the memory of sharing Thanksgiving dinner with Lydia and her family a few weeks before they broke up their senior year faded. He stood at the bay window that overlooked the unfenced backyard with woods a hundred yards from the house.

      “Do you still get moose around here?”

      “Yes, also caribous and occasionally a bear. That’s why I keep the garbage cans in the garage except on pickup day.”

      “Have you had any trouble with them?” He could do a generic conversation with Lydia. Nothing too personal.

      “Kate’s an animal lover and takes photos of all our visitors. Once she was at the window in her bedroom, snapping a picture when the bear came over and tried to get inside. He tore the screen, and we had to replace it. The way she screamed, I thought the bear was inside. I ran and got my dad’s gun, then went to rescue her.” She appeared behind him.

      Jesse pivoted from the window, and the familiar scent of apple floated to him. She held out the glass of water, and he took it.

      But she remained where she was—too close. When she looked up at him, for a few seconds the years apart fell away, and he was a teenager again and in love for the first time.

      Then she smiled, and no one else existed for that moment. It was as if fifteen years vanished along with all the hurts and words exchanged between them.

      The shrill whistle of the kettle pierced the air. Lydia gasped as though she’d been transfixed as much as he had.

      When she crossed to the stove to make her tea, he sat in a chair and took deep sips of his iced water, relishing the cold liquid. “What happened with the bear?”

      “I closed the blackout curtains and hoped he would forget that we were inside. He hit the screen a couple more times, then left. We both collapsed on the bed, laughing.”

      “Laughing?”

      “In relief that we were still alive. I’d been checking out the bedroom door and wondering if that would stop a bear if he did get into the house through the window. I’d decided no.”

      Chuckling, Jesse relaxed, surprised by both actions.

      When Lydia returned to the kitchen table and sat across from him, she blew on her tea and took a sip, a habit she’d had since he’d first known her. What else did she still do? She used to chew on her thumbnail when she was nervous. He looked at her hand and saw each fingernail was cut short.

      “I’m glad you’re having a good laugh over my bear encounter. There is a downside to living a little ways out from the main part of the city. More wildlife.”

      “To me that’s what’s appealing about this place. I live in town with a fenced yard. Brutus needs to have a place to exercise when he isn’t working. I can’t risk him encountering a bear.”

      Lydia shifted in her chair and cringed. “I’m trying to ignore my bruised ribs, but they love reminding me they’ve been mistreated.”

      “Being in that hallway protected you some from the main blast.”

      She stared at her tea, tracing her finger around the rim. “I know. I...” She shook her head. “Can we not talk about the bombing?”

      “You need to remember, and talking sometimes helps.”

      Her mouth tightened. “Not right now. When I start trying to think about that day, my mind shuts down.”

      “That’s not an unusual reaction for a traumatic experience. So what do you want to talk about, if not the case?”

      “The way things ended for us. I never wanted to hurt you. If I could have done that over—”

      He held up his hand. “Don’t. We can’t change what happened and discussing it to death won’t help. What was done is done.”

      “I understand, but ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear.”

      “Maybe I want to be reminded to be cautious.”

      “With me?” Her eyes darkened. “I made a couple of big mistakes as a teenager and have learned a lot СКАЧАТЬ