The Heart of a Hero (8 page)

What kind of man would that make him?

No, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to her. She’d already been used by one man—he wouldn’t add to the list. He might have precious little honor left, but he had enough.

Summoning up all his resolve, he broke away. “I’ll take care of myself now,” he told her.

For a second, Zoe didn’t move except to sway in his direction. Damn if he didn’t want to grab her up again. He had to stomp a few feet away to resist the temptation.

“I don’t want— I don’t need you to play nurse
maid.” The harshness of his words made him wince. Who was he trying to admonish, her or him?

“I didn’t mean to presume otherwise,” she replied in a soft voice. So soft it hit him square in the gut. He turned, ready to apologize, only to catch her staring sightlessly into the fire.

Earlier in the day he’d wondered what kind of man could kill her brightness. Now he knew.

How many more people were going to be hurt because of him?

“I
CAN’T
decide if I like the light grey or the dark.”

“Zoe, they’re roof shingles, not a work of art.”

It was the first time they’d interacted in two days, and Zoe wasn’t in a hurry for the conversation to end. Following his abrupt departure the other night, Jake had become a human ghost. He was at work on her roof before she could say hello and packed up before she could say goodbye. He even brought lunch, which he insisted on eating while working.

“I’ve got other customers to get to,” he’d told her when she commented on his workaholism. “Your roof repairs can’t take all summer.” A perfectly valid reason, if…

If she didn’t have the nagging feeling he was avoiding her.

“If I’m going to have this roof for twenty years, then I want to make sure I like what I end up with,” she told him, picking up the samples for another look.

Behind the counter, Javier snickered. Jake rolled his eyes and leaned against a nearby shelf.

It wasn’t that Jake hadn’t been cordial. He’d waved when she had waved, spoken if she’d started a conversation. Once she caught him scratching Reynaldo under the collar. Despite all that, however, something between them was
off.

She set the samples on the counter. “I’ll take the light gray. They go best with the paint.”

“You sure? There might be some samples in the back you haven’t looked at,” she heard Jake mutter.

“Very amusing. I’d like to see you pick something out from a three-inch square.”

“I wouldn’t have needed that big a sample.”

Zoe shot him a smirk. The exchange was the most relaxed conversation they’d had all morning.

For the past two days, she’d felt as if they were both on guard, with each of them monitoring the other’s actions. She knew why, too. That little slip of hers while standing at the campfire.

Who wouldn’t be freaked out by their neighbor making goo-golly eyes at him? Lord knows what she’d been thinking by touching his cheek.

Check that. She knew exactly what she’d been thinking—or in this case, not thinking. She chalked it up to too much sun and the distracting way the campfire light danced across his features, drawing her in.

And what excuse do you have for the other times?
a voice in the back of her head asked.

Javier promised to have the shingles delivered first thing the following morning. While he was writing up the order, Zoe noticed the young man stealing a glance in Jake’s direction. He’d been doing so their entire visit.

She turned to give Jake a reassuring smile, pretty sure he’d seen the looks as well. The handyman stood with one hip propped against the shelf and his thumbs hooked in his pockets. To anyone who walked by, he looked like a man casually waiting on his companion. Unless, that is, you were like Zoe and noticed how stiffly he held his shoulders, or that his gaze remained frozen on a spot right behind Javier’s left shoulder.

What was going through his mind? Coming back here had to be awkward after his abrupt exit last time. Yet he handled the clerk’s surreptitious stares with aplomb. Zoe was impressed.

Then again, Jake continually impressed her. More so than he should, she worried.

She returned her attention to the clerk. “How are you doing?” After all, it had been his bad news that precipitated everything. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“
Obrigado.
I’m doing well. How are you,
senhor
?” he asked Jake. “Are you feeling better?”

The slight rise of color in his cheeks was the only
indication Jake found the question uncomfortable. “Better,” he replied. To Zoe, he added, “I’m going to wait outside. Come find me when you’re finished.”

Behind the counter, Javier looked like a young boy who’d been reprimanded. “I ticked him off, didn’t I?”

“Who? Jake?” She shook her head. “Not at all. He’s only trying to speed me along.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have said anything. Ira told me Captain Meyers is touchy about things. I wasn’t thinking.”

Captain
Meyers. She knew he’d been an officer.

She was surprised to hear the manager had shared the information after being so closemouthed with her. Then again, traipsing back and forth between the stores, Javier wasn’t exactly an outsider the way she was. Would the young man have the same protective standards as Ira? Hoping to look casual, she twisted her credit card between her fingers. “Did Ira tell you anything else?”

“Only that he was injured in an attack. And that it was bad.”

An understatement, to say the least. Zoe turned her gaze toward the front of the store and the tall shadowy figure on the other side of the glass.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “I think it might have been very bad indeed.”

Jake was waiting on the sidewalk when she emerged. “Sorry about in there,” she said, joining him.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Perhaps, but she felt like she should. “Javier’s worried he ticked you off.”

“He’ll recover.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, it had to be awkward being back here. I mean after last time…”

He’d started down the sidewalk, slowly so Zoe could keep up. Now he paused. “That was almost a week ago. I’ll recover, too.”

Would he? She wasn’t so certain. Though his eyes were masked by his sunglasses, she was pretty sure that, if visible, they’d belie his nonchalance. By now she’d learned he wasn’t as indifferent as he pretended to be. Though she also knew if she challenged him, he’d deny the charge.

“I was wondering,” she said, as they started up the pace again, “do you mind if we stop at the general store before heading back to the marina? I need to buy Reynaldo some dog chews.”

“Wouldn’t want the tube of terror going without, would we?”

“Trust me, we don’t. Besides, I wouldn’t mind getting some better coffee beans. The ones at the ‘gourmet—’” she framed the word with her fingers “—store in Pitcher’s Hole are more gour-maybe and—”

He cut her off. “I don’t really have the time….”

There it was again, that
off
feeling.

“Look,” she told him, “the shingles won’t be delivered until tomorrow and by the time we get back home it’s going to be too late to start a project for someone else, since you’d only have to stop and finish my roof. And if I don’t run my errands now, I’ll have to take the ferry back, and what with it being off-season and the boat not running every day…”

What Zoe didn’t mention about the errands was that they were an excuse to spend more time together. Going home meant returning to their cordial standoffishness, and she wasn’t ready to go back to that quite yet. At least here on the island, Jake had to make conversation.

Why that mattered, she wasn’t sure, but it did.

“Fine.” Jake let out an exasperated sigh, though to Zoe it sounded a tad too loud and a tad too long to be serious. “We’ll go run your errands. But—” he held up a finger “—if you dither half as long about coffee as you did about the shingles, I’m leaving you behind. I don’t care if the ferry doesn’t run again until July.”

She reined in her victory smile. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m very definitive when it comes to my coffee.”

The general store was exactly as the name implied: a catchall tourist destination selling everything from souvenir T-shirts to whole bean coffee and imported
cheese, with knickknacks and brassware thrown in. True to her word, Zoe selected her coffee in record time. Likewise, the sunscreen and fresh-baked biscuits. Ironically, it was Jake who ended up slowing their progress. He walked up and down every aisle of the store studying the contents.

“You mean in all the times you’ve come to this island, you’ve never been in this store?” Zoe asked him.

“Not once.”

How sad. Granted, visiting some tourist shop wasn’t a big deal. But she doubted Jake visited any kind of store, unless he absolutely had to. It was as if he did the bare minimum to exist: eat, sleep and work. With eating and sleeping being optional, she’d bet. No friends, no extraordinary experiences, no joy. Not much of a life.

At least he appeared to be enjoying this visit. “Look at this,” he said. “All-natural, Himalayan dog chews made from reindeer antlers.” He frowned. “Regular antlers aren’t good enough?”

“Says the man who just slipped a package of Aunt Millie’s Organic Canine Cookies in my basket.”

“That’s different. I want to see if dogs actually like those things.”

“Right. And the fact it’s shaped like a chipmunk is a coincidence.” She laughed and gave his rib cage a nudge. “Face it, my dog’s growing on you.”

Jake looked down at her smile and their eyes
locked. Silence, heavy with unspoken thoughts, swept between them. Zoe was suspended in place, as if her moving hinged on what he was about to say. Jake’s gaze dropped to her mouth, and a tremor ran down her spine. “Maybe it’s not only the—”

“Jake? Jake Meyers, is that you?”

A balding man in his sixties who was wearing a Black Dog Tavern T-shirt approached from the other end of the aisle. “Talk about a fortunate occurrence.”

From the look on his face, Jake obviously didn’t agree.

“You, Captain Meyers, are a very difficult man to reach. How many messages have I left? Three? Four?”

“The fact I didn’t get back to you should have been a hint.”

The man let out an indulgent-sounding laugh and rubbed a hand over his scalp. “So, are we going to see you at the ceremony? We’d like to get as many vets on the dais as possible.”

“Ceremony? What ceremony?” Zoe’s curiosity got the best of her and she spoke up. When the men looked in her direction, she offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense. A pretty lady is never an interruption. I’m Kent Mifflin, by the way,” he greeted, holding out his left hand. That was when Zoe noticed his right hand had been replaced by a prosthetic hook.

“And the ceremony,” he continued, after she’d introduced herself, “is the upcoming Flag Day dedication.”

“You all celebrate Flag Day?” The June fourteenth holiday wasn’t a largely recognized one, so she was surprised. Come to think of it, however, she had seen red, white and blue fliers in store windows around town.

“Normally, no, but one of our summer residents, Jenkin Carl—ever hear of him?”

“The artist?”

“That’s him. He and I served together and I convinced him to make a statue to help honor the veterans from the Cape Cod islands.”

“How wonderful.” She looked to Jake, who looked away.

“Anyway Jenks can’t get here until after Memorial Day, and since Fourth of July is always so crazy, we settled on Flag Day. We were hoping Captain Meyers—”

“Jake.” The sound of his interruption startled them. “Just Jake,” he repeated.

“Sorry, old habit,” Kent said. “We were hoping Jake would join us.”

“I can’t,” Jake replied.

Kent looked about to press, but Jake’s expression stopped him. “That’s too bad,” he said, his voice slow and strangely understanding. The older man regarded him for another second or two, and then he pulled
out his wallet. “If you find your schedule opens up, give me a call. I’ll make sure they save you two seats at the post-dedication breakfast. It was a pleasure meeting you, Zoe.”

“Same here.”

Jake remained silent as stone. All the humor from earlier had vanished. His face was distant, his jaw clenched so tightly, she feared the bone might crack from the pressure. “You ready to go?” he asked when Kent was out of view.

Zoe nodded. Not until she reached the checkout did she notice that Kent had dropped his card in her basket. She slipped it into her pocket before Jake noticed.

To her credit, she managed to wait until they’d rung up their purchases and were almost to the dock before circling the conversation around to the encounter in the store. “So, your friend Kent seemed nice.”

True to form, Jake looked straight ahead, his expression stony and unemotional. “He’s not my friend.”

Right, he didn’t do friends. How could she have forgotten? “This ceremony he’s organizing sounds like a pretty big deal. Too bad you can’t attend.”

“I have to work.”

Again, Jake stared straight ahead as he spoke. A tiny flinch of his jaw muscle betrayed his tension…and told Zoe his answer was nothing more than an
excuse. “I’m sure whoever your customer is, he or she would understand if you rescheduled, given the circumstances.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Reschedule or attend?”

Finally he turned to her, and despite the sunglasses, Zoe could feel his glare. “Why do you care?”

Good question. Why did she care? What Jake did or didn’t do should be of no matter to her. But it was. Watching him battling himself caused her professional instincts to kick in. She’d grown so used to people asking for advice, she’d begun dispensing guidance unsolicited.

Yes, she thought to herself, that had to be the reason. Habit. Her ingrained need to help. Any other reason would imply she was getting personally involved with Jake, and she wasn’t. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

You almost kissed him by the campfire. If that’s not getting involved, what is?

Quick as it came, she shoved the memory aside. What mattered right now was Jake.

“Would my caring be so awful?” she asked him.

“Your caring would be a waste of time. What I do—or don’t do—is none of your concern.”

He must have realized how hard his comment sounded, or perhaps he caught her stunned expression out of the corner of his eye, for his face softened. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I know you mean
well. But you’re better off spending your energy on the people who want help.”

Want. Can’t.
He threw those two words around a lot. He couldn’t do this; he didn’t want that. But what about what he
needed?

Let me in, Jake,
she implored silently.
Let me be there for you. Let me…

She swallowed the first word choice that came to mind, replacing it with a phrase far less risky to her heart.
Let me care what happens to you.

They cruised back to Naushatucket in silence. For once, Zoe refrained from filling the quiet with conversation. She was far too distracted figuring how to draw out Jake. Unfortunately, no solution came and when they pulled into her driveway, Jake was poised to depart immediately.