Teresa Hill - Someone To Watch Over Me

The man nodded. “Believe me, he earns it every day.”

She let her hand linger on the dog, thinking it had been a long time since’d she touched any living thing, surprised at how pleasurable something as simple as rubbing the dog’s fur could be.

The detective who’d handled her case had wanted her to get a dog. For protection and for company. She’d never really considered it, but maybe that was a mistake. Maybe she should. If she could find one as sweet as this one.

“You’re so pretty,” she told him.

Romeo licked her knee one more time, and then gave the man a smug-looking smile, as if to say, So there.

And then Gwen started to worry about the dog. “You really do like him, don’t you?” Gwen asked the man.

“I tolerate him. That’s it.”

“Oh.” Gwen puzzled over that, then thought she’d figured out what was going on. “So, he’s not your dog?”

“No,” the man said, all the light, all the gold and sunshine, fading away in an instant.

What had she said? The dog was such a sore spot?

“But you know him?” Gwen tried. “I mean…he has a home? Because if he doesn’t…He seems so sweet, and I was supposed to get a dog.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, I’d love to give him to you, but I’m stuck with him for the moment.”

“Oh.”

So…maybe it was his wife’s dog? His girlfriend’s? His son or daughter’s? A man like this wouldn’t be all alone in the world.

“Come on, Romeo. Let’s go home,” he said, nodding tightly in her direction, and then turned around, leaving.

The dog was more polite, rolling to his feet and nuzzling his wet, cold nose against her hand before trotting off behind the man, who didn’t give Gwen so much as a backward glance.

Jax broke into a light jog, then a flat-out run, wanting to leave everything behind. How far would he have to go to do that?

He wore himself out before he got past the falls. Giving up, he collapsed onto his back in the soft, spring grass, close enough that the swish of the water sliding over the falls was just about the only sound he could hear.

Romeo caught up with him and gave a little, confused whine by Jax’s right ear, and when Jax didn’t answer, Romeo licked the side of his face.

“Get back.” Jax shoved him, and stayed where he was, flat on the grass.

Romeo snarled at first, then whined pitifully.

“Give me a break, Romeo.”

Gazing up into the branches of the tree, Jax recognized where he was. Beneath the oldest tree in the park. His mother had picnicked here as a girl. His father had fallen out of this tree and broken his arm in two places, and twelve years later, Billy Cassidy had proposed to Ellen Jackson, right under this tree. They’d sneaked off one night after she was supposed to be home safe in her bed, to come here. As his father told the story, he’d barely gotten the proposal out when Grandpa Jackson had come along looking for his little girl, and he hadn’t been happy at all with their engagement. Billy Cassidy had a reputation with the ladies, after all, and Ellen had only been eighteen at the time, to Billy’s twenty-two.

But nothing Grandpa Jackson said had swayed Jax’s mother from her decision that Billy Cassidy was the man for her. Eventually her father had given in and walked her down the aisle of a little church two blocks away.

From everything Jax had ever seen or heard of their marriage, neither one of them had ever regretted it, until the day his father died.

Restless and angry and lost, Jax sat up and watched the water come over the falls and swirl and churn into the wide pool waiting below. No matter what, the water just kept moving, just the way the world insisted that it had to keep turning and changing.

He’d seen children playing and arguing this morning on his run, mothers pushing baby strollers, the team from the Elm Street firehouse playing a fierce game of softball against a bunch of city policemen, many of whom he knew.

He’d stared at them, wondering how things could go on in such a completely normal way, just like the water coming over the falls.

Didn’t they know? His mother had died last night. She was gone. Everything had changed.

One minute, she’d been talking to him about the husband who’d proposed to her under this tree, and the next, she’d been gone.

How could someone be here one minute and just gone the next?

How did that work?

It seemed like too great a change to happen so imperceptibly.

Here and gone.

Gone.

Shouldn’t the world stop for something like that? Shouldn’t everyone take note of the fact that a wonderful woman like his mother was no longer a part of this earth? He fought the urge to go stop the softball game and tell them all what had happened. He’d stop cars in the street, shout the news from the rooftops.

And they’d all think he was crazy.

Glancing up, he saw that the sky was still blue. The sun was shining. Water was flowing. Cops were playing softball. Kids were arguing. Babies crying. The whole world was moving, and he was left standing still, still trying to figure out what had actually happened.

He still couldn’t quite believe it.

She was gone.

Working at the flower shop, Gwen heard all the town news, both good and bad. That afternoon, she heard that the nice lady who lived around the corner from her had finally died following a long, hard battle with cancer.

Gwen hadn’t actually met Ellen Cassidy, but Gwen’s aunt considered her a good friend, and judging by the number of flowers and plants sent to Mrs. Cassidy from the shop where Gwen worked, so did many people in town.

As she drove herself home that night, Gwen saw that Mrs. Cassidy’s house was overrun with visitors. Which meant people might like something to eat and drink, which meant Gwen had been right when she’d walked three doors down from the flower shop after work and purchased a quiche to take to Mrs. Cassidy’s family.

The closest parking space she could find was nearly a block away. She’d probably have been closer parked in her own driveway. But this street was well lit, with lots of people coming and going. She felt safer here.

She walked briskly to the front door, stood up straight and tall, and rang the bell. When the door opened, she found herself face-to-face with the gorgeous man from the park.

“Hi,” he said, looking somber yet still very pretty all in black, his blond hair slicked back and still kind of wet.

“Hi.” Gwen’s mouth was hanging open, as if she were incapable of even talking to such an attractive man. Funny, she hadn’t had any trouble earlier in the park. Of course, they’d had the dog between them then. The man just looked at her, waiting, and finally she remembered why she’d come and held up the dish. “I brought a quiche.”

“Thank you.” He stepped back to give her room. “Come in, please.”

“Oh, I don’t need to do that. I didn’t even know your…Mrs. Cassidy. Was she your mother?”

He nodded, looking like he had when she’d asked about the dog.

“I didn’t really know her,” Gwen said. “I just heard about her from so many people. I work at the flower shop on the edge of the park—”

“Joanie Graham’s place?”

“Yes. So many people came by to send things to her. And my aunt spoke highly of her. She must have been a very special woman.”

“She was,” he said. “Please. Come in.”

“All right. Just for a moment.” She stepped across the threshold, saw the house was packed with people.

“This way.” He closed the door and then fell into step beside her, guiding her through the crush of friends and neighbors with a polite hand at her back, down the hall.

She felt a little tremble shoot down her spine, a little spooked at his touch, a little…well, pleased was the only word that seemed to fit. Honestly, she wasn’t sure which feeling was stronger. She wasn’t scared of him. Not here in the middle of a house full of people. No one was going to hurt her here. But the thought of finding it pleasant to have him touch her was just as unsettling.