Christy Barritt - Keeping Guard

Kylie pulled her arms across her chest. “I used to pray for Bruce every day when he did that job.” She closed her eyes. “Jumping out of helicopters, battling the seas, the temperatures and storms and all those other elements that came with being out in the middle of the ocean…I don’t know how you guys did it.”

Those were the moments that Nate missed. Those rushes of adrenaline. Knowing he could save someone’s life. Using every ounce of strength to do his job.

But there had been tough moments also, moments when he hadn’t been able to save everyone. Moments where he had to tell one family member that another hadn’t made it. He pushed the memories away.

Saving people—whether it had been at sea or just in life itself—had been his passion. He’d failed. And as further proof and a daily reminder of that failure, he now ran this restaurant.

“Nate?”

Kylie’s voice pulled him out of the memory. He decided to put the focus on Bruce and hoped Kylie wouldn’t ask too many questions of him. He wasn’t ready to go there. The emotions of leaving the Coast Guard two years ago still felt raw at times. The last thing he needed was for Kylie to feel sorry for him. “Your brother was a great rescue swimmer. I was surprised when he decided to get out of the Coast Guard.”

Kylie nodded. “I guess he decided he’d had enough excitement in his life. So he came back to Kentucky and became a police officer instead.”

Nate thought of what his second career choice had been, before the restaurant had been given to him. He’d been offered a position as instructor at the Coast Guard Training Center in Yorktown. Every day, he questioned whether or not he should have taken that position there. But his father’s wishes had been for him to take over this place after he died. How could he say no to the man who’d sacrificed so much for him? Besides, that last mission always seemed to haunt him.

His gaze focused on Kylie for a moment, and he could see her studying him, probably trying to figure him out. Few people had ever accomplished that task. She shifted her weight, and Nate waited to hear what she’d say next.

“I think Bruce misses the Coast Guard. I know he really loved it.”

“We had some good times. That’s for sure.”

When he saw Kylie’s earnest expression, Nate thought about telling her that he missed it also. But then he might have to tell her about that last rescue he’d attempted. About the failure that still haunted him and drove him to be the person he was today.

When Kylie got back to her room, her back ached, her feet hurt and her head pounded. She wasn’t used to being on her feet all day, bending over a chopping board for hours at a time, or trying to remember a list of new recipes. She worked hard on her local cooking show and for her catering business, but it was nothing like this.

She lay back in bed and kicked her feet up. What she wouldn’t do for a TV to distract her thoughts right now. Or a good book. Well, she had a good book, but she wouldn’t be reading it. Not with that reminder written in the front of it.

Instead, her mind wandered to her conversation with Bruce today. The Man in Black was getting brave, breaking into her apartment like that. He’d broken in once before to leave her a note. That hand-jotted letter had been one of the first clues that whoever followed her wasn’t merely a harmless fan. After that, the pictures began coming. The photos proved that wherever she went, this man followed her.

She pulled her arms around her chest. The man had never touched her but still she’d felt so violated. She prayed he would be caught soon. Then she could get out of this tiny apartment and away from Nate Richardson.

His image—as handsome as it might be—flashed in her head and she frowned.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Nate. She couldn’t help but feel she was in his way, that he didn’t really want her here.

She sighed. She’d done enough thinking. Thinking always got her in trouble.

She reached over to her nightstand and grabbed her cell phone. She’d laid out the pieces this morning, hoping the electronics would dry out. She snapped the battery back in and pressed the “on” button. A moment later, her screen lit up.

“Yes, it works.” She didn’t plan on leaving the phone on during her stay here, but it was nice to have, just in case she needed to get in touch with someone in an emergency.

The phone buzzed and a message popped up on the screen informing her that she had four new voice mail messages. Probably all from Nate or Bruce last night. She anticipated hearing their anxious voices, asking her where she was and why she wasn’t answering.

The first two messages, as she expected, were from Bruce and the third from Nate. She anticipated the fourth being from Bruce as well. Instead, a gravelly voice filled her ears.

“Where are you, Kylie? You think you can run from me, but you can’t. I’ll find you, wherever you go. Remember that. I’m always watching.”

Kylie scavenged the cupboards the next morning only to discover she had no food in her little kitchenette. Her stomach rumbling with hunger, she got dressed and headed downstairs. Certainly Nate wouldn’t mind if she hunted around the restaurant for something to eat.

When she found some free time, she’d buy some groceries. But if Nate worked her as hard today as he’d done yesterday, she’d never have the chance to go shopping. If what Suzy had told her was true, it was no wonder the man couldn’t keep any employees around.

As she padded downstairs, she shivered, remembering the voice mail she’d listened to last night. How far away would she have to be from her life in Kentucky before she felt safe? Would she ever feel safe?

She pushed through the doors into the kitchen, and the scent of bacon and eggs drifted out. Nate stood at the griddle wearing a white apron and what was perhaps a warm smile. Could it be?

“Morning.” He turned over an omelet and turned toward her.

Yep, that was the start of a small smile. It looked nice on him.

Kylie had to turn her approving gaze away from her temporary boss. She always found something very attractive about a man in the kitchen. Instead of dwelling on the image, she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “Smells good.”

Using tongs, he picked up a piece of bacon from the griddle and placed it on a plate with an omelet. He handed the dish to her. “I thought you might be hungry and I realized I didn’t leave you any food.”

“This more than makes up for it.” She placed the food on the counter while going to grab two ceramic mugs. “Want me to grab you a cup of coffee? You will be joining me for breakfast, won’t you?”

“I usually just share the breakfast nook with a newspaper. I suppose a change in company could be good.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

She poured the hot liquid into the cups and carried them to a table at the front. As she waited for Nate, she took the opportunity to soak in the dining area. Nate had created a nice atmosphere—one that fit in with his Revolutionary theme by keeping a post-and-beam design, low ceilings, chandeliers with electric candles and simple, mission-style tables and chairs. The floors were wooden and rustic-looking, and a few antiques were scattered along the walls. Now all he needed were waitresses dressed in period attire.

A moment later, Nate joined her with two steaming plates of food. A moment of awkward silence followed as they both began eating. What exactly did they have to talk about? It seemed all they had in common were her brother and cooking, the latter of which Nate apparently couldn’t stand.

“Good omelet,” she finally said. She told the truth. The eggs were delicious and cooked perfectly.