N. Walters: Jackson’s Jewel

They had protested her leaving and going off by herself, but she’d been adamant. She hoped by leaving that she’d draw the threat away from her sisters. A spark of hope flickered inside her. Maybe they’d heard something from the private investigator they’d hired. “Hello.”

“Wasn’t my last present to your liking?” The voice was distorted but distinctly male. Emerald froze.

“Who is this?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

He laughed and the sound sent chills racing over her flesh. “You belong to me, Emerald. Once you admit that, then things will get easier for everyone.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed heavily. She was dealing with a lunatic. The last package had contained a long, white wedding gown as well as a pair of heavy black handcuffs. This guy was sick! “I don’t belong to anyone, you jerk.”

“Temper, temper.” He chuckled. “I know you think you can run.” He paused for a moment. “I hope you enjoyed your overnight stay in Jaffrey.”

Emerald’s hand flew to her throat. She’d stayed at an inn in that town last night and gassed up her car there this morning. She’d purposely been taking a winding path on this trip so no one would be able to find her. “How could you know?” She hadn’t meant to whisper the words aloud, but he heard them.

“I know everything about you, my black-haired beauty.” The good humor fled his voice and it became as hard as ice. “You belong to me.”

“No!” she screamed. “You leave me alone.”

“I’m coming for you, Emerald,” he taunted. “Watch for me.”

The line went dead and she sat there shaking for the longest time. The occasional car passed her and when one of them started to slow down, she flung her phone in her purse, put her foot on the gas and spun back onto the road.

How could he have found her? The answer when it hit her was obvious—credit cards. She’d used her credit card this morning when she’d paid for her hotel room and her gas. This guy was even smarter than she’d imagined. After all, if he could hack into her e-mail account it was possible he had skill enough to track her credit cards.

Emerald gripped the wheel tightly and marshaled her thoughts. Okay, she couldn’t use her credit cards or her bank card. Any kind of electronic transaction would leave a trail for him to follow. She’d been traveling all day and thankfully hadn’t used her cards, so he had no way of knowing exactly where she was.

The sign loomed in the distance. “Welcome to Meadows,” she said aloud. This was as good a place as any to get some supplies and check out her cash situation. She pulled into the parking lot of a local convenience store and shut off the car. Her skin was clammy, her hands shaky as she fumbled with her wallet. She counted out a hundred and eighty-five dollars and twenty-three cents. Not enough to elude a stalker. She needed money and a place to hide out while she figured out what to do.

Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything all day. Opening the car door, she climbed out. The blast of heat hit her hard, but it felt good against her clammy skin. It was so hot she could see the heat shimmering just above the pavement. Wiping her sweaty hands over the legs of her jeans, she grabbed her purse, shut the car door and strolled over to the store.

Her legs were wobbly, but they held. She needed food and she needed an inexpensive place to stay for the night while she figured out what to do. The bell over the door jingled when she walked inside. The woman behind the counter smiled at her and went back to ringing up her customer.

Emerald strolled down the aisle, trying to find something that might sit well in her stomach. She went down the first row and back up the next without finding anything that tempted her. As she reached the front of the store again, she noticed a large bulletin board filled with notices. Curiosity pulled her toward it.

Trucks for sale, property for sale, a few for rent signs and a smattering of community notices peppered the board. Not much to help her. Emerald figured it was best to ask the woman on the front cash if there was an inexpensive place to stay. The locals always knew the best spots. She made up her mind that she’d also ask about a good, but cheap, restaurant. She needed to get some real food in her stomach before she collapsed in a heap.

She started to turn away, but a notice in the top right-hand corner caught her eye. Help wanted! Need temporary housekeeper/cook for local farm. Room and board included. Emerald stared at the note, reading it again and again. This could be the answer to her prayers. Room and board meant that there would be no record for anyone to trace. The fact that it was on a farm was a bonus. Farms tended to be fairly isolated. This could be perfect. She didn’t worry about the work aspect. Her mother hadn’t spoiled any of her daughters and they all knew how to cook and clean.

Ripping the notice off the board, Emerald turned and marched toward the front counter. This was the break she’d been looking for.

“You did what?” Jackson Connors glared at his sister. She smiled at him, blithely ignoring his growing anger.

“I hired you a housekeeper.” Erin shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “Honestly, Jackson, this place is a disaster zone.”

He scrubbed his hand through his reddish-brown hair as he glanced around the kitchen. So there were dishes piled on the counter and in the sink. Yeah, the mail was strewn across the table, the beautiful hardwood floor that he’d stripped and refinished last winter was grungy and the garbage can definitely needed to be emptied. He winced at the mess. He didn’t even want to consider the state of the bathroom or his bedroom. He was just thankful that he’d put away his camera and his latest photos last night before he’d turned in for the evening. “I’ve been busy.”

That was certainly an understatement. He was running the family apple farm by himself now that both Erin and Nathan had married and moved out. Yes, he’d hire help when it came time to pick the apples, but for now he was doing almost all the work himself. It was August and that meant that the hay and alfalfa that he’d planted on the land he leased from Erin’s husband, Abel, had to be harvested and baled. He sold that to surrounding farms for extra cash.

Added to that, he also had another job that no one else knew about. Several years back he’d started taking pictures over the winter months to help pass some of the time when he wasn’t working. That hobby had grown into a passion. On a whim, he’d submitted a few of his photos to contests, and to his surprise, had won several. A gallery owner who’d wanted to feature some of his shots in his shop had approached him. At first Jackson had been skeptical, but he’d ultimately agreed to give it a try. His skepticism had turned to shock when he’d gotten his first check.

His hobby was now providing him with a savings account that was going to allow him to buy out his sister and brother’s share of the farm. Now that they had lives of their own, they didn’t need the farm. But he did. It was as much a part of him as the color of his hair or the sound of his voice. His goal was to secure it as his very own.

Erin’s features softened as she strolled over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. “I know.” She tilted her head up, her face serious. “That’s why you need some extra help around the house.” She stepped back and held up her hand before he could protest further. “It’s only temporary. Just until the end of the apple season. Think how nice it would be to come home to a clean house, a cooked meal and fresh sheets on the bed.”