The Hero's Sweetheart Page 9

“You need to get away from him.”

  Patrice shrugged and turned away. “I started the argument.”

  “That doesn’t give him the right to harm you.”

  Patrice whirled around. “I never said he harmed me. Don’t go spreading that around. I mean it.”

  “You told me he shook you and made you bite your tongue. That constitutes harm.”

  “Leave it be, Olivia.”

  “No. You look me in the eye and tell me he didn’t hit you in the face.”

  Patrice’s shoulders sank. She stayed silent and shook her head as a tear trickled down her cheek. Olivia gave her a hug, which is when she noticed new bruises on Patrice’s arms, too. “What happened here?” she whispered. “Please tell me.”

  “He grabbed me by the arms and shook me again,” Patrice whispered back.

  Olivia sighed, knowing it was very difficult for most women to leave their abusers. “We need to get you away from him.”

  Patrice licked her lips. “I can’t. He’s an attorney. He says he’ll destroy me, my future.”

  Olivia clenched her jaw. “Come to church with me, Patrice. We have counselors there. You need to know there is a life beyond this abuse, and that you can do better than this creep. Jesus will never hurt you,” Olivia whispered, her tears mirroring Patrice’s.

  “I don’t know if I can. I’ve done so much. You don’t even know.”

  “Never too much to be forgiven.”

  “I’m a mess, Olivia. I’m not like you.”

  “You don’t have to get cleaned up before you come to God. Come as you are and He will help you work on the things He wants changed. I suspect that, rather than tell you everything you’re doing wrong, God will make sure you see everything right about you. And that you know His mercy above knowing your mistakes. You can trust Him.”

  Patrice peered into Olivia’s eyes. “I sure hope you’re right. Because I’m pretty sure you’d hate me if you knew some of the mistakes I’ve made.”

  “I’d never hate you.” Although stark concern ran through Olivia. What had Patrice’s boyfriend gotten her into? “But you need to tell someone, Patrice. Someone in authority.”

  Patrice sniffled and drew a deep breath. “I’ll look up numbers for counselors or something. For now, let’s get my mind off this stuff, okay? It’s depressing and dismal. How about we work on the mitten project?”

  Olivia gave her one more hug and smiled, even though her smile felt thin. She felt as if Patrice was just saying that about the counseling to appease Olivia. But, perhaps if she let Patrice calm down, she could get through to her at a later time.

  “Making mittens sounds good, I guess.”

  Patrice pulled the box of winter sweaters down and they picked a couple out in order to make several sets of mittens out of the old sweaters, a project they’d thought of to help the diner.

  A knock sounded at the door several minutes later.

  “If that’s Darin and Naem, they’re an hour early,” Patrice said, looking at the clock.

  They’d all planned to go sledding today, since the diner and most all of the businesses in town were closed due to the ice storm knocking out electricity in various places all over Eagle Point.

  Olivia reached the door and opened it. Jack stood on the other side with a box.

  “Hey. The delivery truck left this on my stoop yesterday, but it’s yours. I didn’t notice the name before or I’d have brought it sooner.”

  “Thank you,” Olivia said, and stepped aside in case he wanted to enter.

  He didn’t make a move to. He nodded a greeting at Patrice as she passed by on the way to the kitchen.

  She waved and quickly turned, probably to hide her bruise. At the angle in which she’d been standing, Jack probably hadn’t seen the bruise or he’d have certainly said something. Olivia knew that for sure.

  Maybe Jack needed to know about it. In fact...

  “Jack, would you like to come in for hot cocoa?” She didn’t want to betray Patrice’s trust, but neither did she want her to be hurt worse. She also didn’t want to be rude to Jack or make him feel left out. Plus, if Jack saw the bruise, perhaps he’d talk sense into Patrice.

  He peered at the burgundy sweater and the baby blue mittens in Olivia’s hands so she said, “We’re making these mittens out of old sweaters people were going to throw away.” She showed him a finished set of sweater-made mittens and then a set in progress.

  “Nice salvage,” Jack said. He sent a questioning look to Olivia when Patrice scurried to her room. Should Olivia tell Jack about the assault? Why hadn’t Patrice called police?

  “Everything okay?” Jack asked, and nodded toward Patrice’s closed door.

  Olivia shook her head. “Not really,” she whispered.

  Jack shifted from one foot to the other. “Anything I can do?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Olivia peered back at Patrice’s door. “I’ll let you know.”

  He nodded.

  That he just stood there awkwardly caused Olivia’s compassion to bubble. He spent so much time by himself. She suddenly felt compelled to include him in their diner crew outing. “We’re all going sledding later. Naem was going to ask you to join us.”

  “He did. I appreciate the invitation, but I can’t.”

  “Oh? Do you have something that needs to be done at the diner today? If so, we can help instead of go sled—”

  “No. I don’t need help with anything today. Enjoy your rare day off.”

  So, why didn’t he want to go with them, then?

  Olivia tried to shove away the feeling of being slighted or snubbed.

  But Jack wasn’t a snob, so this was something else. What?

  As she studied him more thoroughly, he shifted, then glanced back toward Patrice’s bedroom door. “So, you’ll let me know if you guys need me?”

  Olivia nodded, but felt weird about it now, as opposed to a moment ago. Clearly, Jack didn’t want to hang out with them on a friendship basis. Yet he was concerned about Patrice.

  Weird. Did he carry some kind of torch for her?

  According to Patrice, he never had. Nor had she for him.

  Maybe Jack carried that kind of concern for everyone. If so, she didn’t know him at all.

  Olivia’s cell phone rang as Jack set the box inside her door and turned to go. She picked up the box feeling aggravated and confused. Jack Sullenberger did that to her.

  “Hello?” Olivia shut her door while answering the call from her EMT instructor. Two minutes into the conversation, her heart sank and her knees grew weak. “What do you mean I failed both tests?”

  Nausea accosted her and with it a sinking sensation that her best would never be good enough. She’d grown up feeling that way and couldn’t shake it now, the heaviness of insurmountable odds and old ineptitudes she felt incapable of overcoming.

  She’d studied so hard and so long! Determination took hold of Olivia. Failure was not an option. She needed to study harder. Period.

  And, somehow, get more rest. But that seemed like an unattainable dream at this point. Especially with Jack’s new mandatory hours and meetings.

  She had to tell Jack.

  “Thank you for the grace in letting me retest,” Olivia said to her instructor. “I appreciate it. I’ll try not to let you down this time.” She hung up feeling thankful her instructor believed in her enough to let her take the tests again. Now she just had to figure out where she’d gone wrong.

  Hearing Patrice arguing on the phone, probably with Frankie, and knowing Darin and Naem were coming over soon, Olivia gathered her books and prepared to go study at her favorite corner booth in the diner. Being there reminded her of Sully. She missed him badly. He’d have the words of advice and encouragement she’d need to keep going.

  Right
now, she felt as if passing EMT school was going to be utterly impossible.

  All things are possible with You, Lord. But maybe this was my dream and not Yours. Nevertheless, if it’s Your will for me to help people, please help me pass these tests. I don’t want my instructor to be disappointed in me after she’s given me grace.

  Olivia wrote a note for her friends saying that she wouldn’t be able to go sledding, after all.

  She knew they planned, after sledding, to stop by the cabins next to the trauma center to work on the one its owner was donating to EPTC. It would be used by families of trauma victims who needed a place to stay overnight or for several nights. She wrote that she’d try to stop by the cabin and help if she could. It was a good cause. Something the community desperately needed. Especially people from out of town, since Eagle Point really didn’t have a hotel or short-term housing options. She’d heard someone was planning on building a small housing community and some apartment complexes soon. Though that may have just been unfounded rumor, she hoped it would happen.

  She gathered her schoolbooks and headed down to the darkened diner with a battery-operated lamp, fully intent on spending the rest of the day and evening studying her guts out.

  * * *

  The third time Jack heard the clattering before dawn the next morning he knew he wasn’t imagining it.

  Someone was downstairs rummaging around the diner.

  He took the safety off his firearm and tiptoed down the stairs. When he saw Olivia halfway in the cabinet under the sink, he put the safety back on and slid the pistol into its hip holster. “Olivia,” he said.

  She jerked upright, hitting her head on the frame of the sink cabinet opening. “Ow. Yes?”

  He raised his brows. “How did you get in here, and what are you doing?”

  “Taking a break from studying to fix the sink.”

  He stepped closer. Sure enough, she’d repaired the drain. Quite nicely, in fact.

  He’d seen the drain supplies in her grocery cart yesterday but had no idea she’d bought it for the diner. “I can reimburse you for that stuff...as well as the time you spent working on this.”

  “Not necessary,” she said standing. “It didn’t cost much or take long.”

  “Olivia—”

  “Sully’s worth it, Jack. The diner means a lot to me, as does your dad. I don’t want or need to be reimbursed. I’m perfectly capable of making my own way.”

  The stubborn set to her jaw and the warning flash in her eyes told him it was no use arguing with her. She wasn’t going to budge on this one. He shook his head.

  Then he recalled the other thing she said. “You’re studying...down here?”

  She gestured toward the booth in the corner. “I always do. Patrice likes to have loud, obnoxious people over and I really don’t like her boyfriend and his friends.” She bit her cheek, as though she’d said too much. And yet, not nearly enough.

  He noted the two plates and cups stacked in the sink. “How long have you been down here?”

  “All night. I paid for the meals I heated up.” Her eyes scanned the toaster oven.

  He glanced around, not sure how he felt about Olivia being here when he wasn’t.

  The vulnerable look in her eyes made him want to be civil.

  “Did you guys have fun sledding yesterday?”

  “They said they did. I didn’t end up going, so Patrice texted me about how it went. You should have gone. The fun would do you good.”

  He studied her, wondering if she was implying he needed to lighten up.

  He didn’t agree. In order to maintain their respect in his authority, he felt he must draw lines between himself and them. To join in the fun would erase that line and Jack couldn’t let that happen.

  Plus, for his own reasons, he needed to have less fun with Olivia.

  He swept his gaze around one more time, prioritizing in his mind which repair jobs needed to take precedence over others. Dad had really started to let the place go. Very unlike him. Again, guilt accosted Jack for not noticing his dad had been unwell. Scanning his eyes back across the diner, he noticed something else. The cash register drawer was ajar. He walked over, looked at it then turned to Olivia. “Was this open when you got here?”

  Her eyes went to the register and widened. “No.”

  “Did you go in there?”

  “Yes,” she said. Then she went over and shoved it closed.

  He stepped in her path as she tried to walk away. “Why?”

  “I’d forgotten to put something in,” she said, nibbling her lip and avoiding eye contact.

  “For the meals you ate here?”

  “Yes, partly.”

  “Then why else were you in the register?”

  “A good reason. Personal.” She was beginning to perspire.

  “Too vague.” His temper was getting the best of him. First, she got into the register. Next, she thought she could justify not telling him why? No. Not happening. “Either tell me, or you are out of here. And I mean for good.” His jaw was clenched as he seethed.

  She met his gaze eye to eye now. “Jack, I didn’t take anything out. You need to trust me.” While her voice shook, she raised her chin, boldly holding his gaze. “Please.”

  He shook his head, not liking this at all. But to fire her now would probably upset his dad and hinder his recovery. Or worse, cause another stroke. “How did you get into the diner?”

  “Your dad gave me the extra set of keys.”

  “The only extra set?”

  “Yes.” She tried to skirt around him but Jack held firm ground. If he stepped aside, she’d flee.

  That his dad had given her the keys and no one else was more proof Sully trusted Olivia more than the others. Only now, with the register debacle, Jack wasn’t sure his dad’s judgment was sound after all.

  Jack held out his hand. “Diner keys. I want them back. Now.”

  Her eyes flashed fury. She yanked the keys out of her jeans pocket and slapped them into his outstretched hand. Then she swerved from his presence, grabbed all of her books in one fell swoop and stormed past him, not bothering to make eye contact.

  Maybe he should let her explain. But instead, he mentally berated himself for not counting the register before leaving the last time he was here. That was about to change.

  “Olivia,” he called up the stairs. She kept going.

  “I want the keys to the register, too.”

  She stopped stiffly, then slowly turned. The look of bewilderment on her face gave him pause.

  Without a word, she unhooked the tiny key from a wristlet key ring and flung it down to him before turning and shutting her door. That she did so calmly told him she was angrier than if she’d slammed it. He hadn’t missed the confusion in her dark eyes.

  For a moment, he considered asking for an explanation, but in his experience, people lied in these kinds of situations.

  He went back to the diner to lock up and realized she’d left her lamp there, shining brightly in the corner. He went to pick it up when he noticed a pamphlet she’d dropped.

  He picked it up, not intending to read its contents, but National Dyslexia Foundation jumped out at him as though someone intended Jack to see it.

  He turned the pamphlet over and read the first few lines, realizing it was reading tips and techniques to assist with comprehension and recall of material.

  For those with dyslexia.

  Was this something she was studying for school?

  Or for herself, because she had the disorder?

  He sighed, and felt like the world’s biggest jerk. Then felt like the world’s second biggest jerk when he saw Olivia’s tip container empty. Why had she brought it in here?

  He went to the register and counted out bills.

 
Was Olivia taking money out?

  Or putting money in?

  Moreover, why had he automatically thought the worst of her?

  Jack shook his head, disgusted with himself and his mistrust of people.

  But there was more at stake, more to lose if he trusted her and she wasn’t worthy of it, than if he didn’t trust her and she did deserve it. Right?

  His main goal, first and foremost, was to get the diner out of the red.

  He couldn’t do that until he made sure no one was stealing money. So, for that reason, he’d err on the side of not trusting anyone completely.

  And that included Olivia.

  Chapter Seven

  “Jack really blessed me, man,” Darin said to Naem while he turned on the new grill a few days after the ice storm cleared. “Surprised me, too, that he brought all those groceries by. He’s so hard-core here, I didn’t know the dude had it in him to be nice off the job.”

  Olivia gritted her teeth at the chatter regarding Jack. Naem and Darin had been going on and on about Jack ever since getting here this morning. That they’d all come to work to the sight of new grills and coffeemakers had set a jovial mood among the crew. She had a feeling Jack paid for those items out of his own pocket. But why did he feel the need to do nice things at a distance?

  She was glad for Darin, glad that he had a stocked pantry and fridge. But her feelings were still hurt over Jack’s blatant mistrust.

  He’d probably never believe she was putting her tips into the register, rather than taking money out of it. Now, without the keys, she couldn’t put money in. Unless...

  She sidled up next to Patrice. “I need a favor.”

  “What, sugar?” Patrice glanced sideways while tying her order pad apron on. This close, Olivia could see the faded yellowish-brown bruise on her cheek despite the thick mask of concealer Patrice had tried to use. “I’ve been putting my tips into the register, but since Jack took my keys, I can’t. So when you open it, I need you to put my tips in at the end of the day. I need you to promise me you won’t tell Jack. Or Sully if you go see him.”

  Patrice sighed. “Okay, if you promise not to tell them what Frankie did to me.”