Page 42 of Unwanted Vows
I walked barefoot into the kitchen, opened the sliding glass door, and stepped out onto the back veranda. I could see the ocean from where I stood. The waves curled up onto the sand.
Austin steps out of the shadows. “Mr. Lane,” he said softly, “Is something wrong?”
“Just restless,” I say. “I want to run, to swim, to work off the tensions of today.”
“Just tensions?” he says, a little too knowingly. “You sound like a man whose balls are as blue as indigo.”
I bark a short bitter laugh. “The youngster has me up-staged. And why not? He’s been here with her for nine years while I was out in the bush saving other people’s lives. I never dreamed that she might be in danger.”
“Why should you?” Austin asks, amusement clear in his voice. “You’d had one week with her. She knew you were leaving right after, so no blame, really.”
“Other than the obvious part of keeping my hands to myself,” I say.
“Was she unwilling?” Austin asked.
“Far from it,” I replied. “Beyond saying that, however, gentlemen. . .”
“Do not kiss and tell,” Austin finished for me.
We stand together there in the moonlight, saying nothing. The waves crash on the beach.
“Not a good night for a swim or a run,” Austin says. “There’s a riptide this time of night. Carry you right out to sea. As for a run, I’ve not seen or heard anything, but the dogs are restless.”
“What are you telling me?” I ask.
“As your security man, I’m saying you should step back inside, and stay away from the windows. Dress in something comfortable, but be ready for action if needed. Will you listen to my words?”
“You sound like Leland,” I say. “He was always telling me, ‘Andrew, you can’t just go running around in the bush. The lions will eat you, or someone will think you are a jackal and shoot you.’”
“Did you listen?” Austin asked quietly, the moonlight on his fair skin turning it otherworldly.
I considered my answer. “When it suited me, I did.”
He laughs softly, more like a quiet huff than a real sound. “That’s what I thought.”
“Will it make your job easier if I go back in?” I ask, watching the roll of the breaking waves on the beach.
“Much,” he says. “As it is, that house is about as defensible as a cracker box. You might want to stay up a while. I was thinking about comfort for the three of you when I suggested it, not about security.”
“Damn,” I swore softly under my breath. “All right, I’ll keep watch. Just so you know, I don’t own a firearm, never have. My weapon of choice is a camera.”
“Understood,” Austin says, flashing me a grin. “Most of the time, so is mine. Take care of them. Kate seems awfully fond of Maddy, and my girls have taken a liking to your boy.”
“And Rylie?” I ask. “What does our little sister have to say about me?”
“She says your aura has gotten darker since you were away, but that it is still bright. I don’t put much faith in aura reading, but Lee is almost always right about people. Especially if she draws them.”
I nod. I remember that about Rylie. She might seem ditzy, but she had a certain wisdom. Beyond that, her ability to draw is amazing, and she draws the inner self, not just the outer.
“Thank you,” I say, “for taking care of her.”
“You are welcome,” Austin says. “But I did it for her, and she is worth it.”
I slip back inside. Once there, I heed Austin’s suggestion, and dress in a pair of jogging shorts and an old T-shirt. I hang Old Emily’s beautiful art work back in my closet, then step out into the living room.
I push the couch and coffee table out of the way, roll up the grass mat, and begin the slow movements of the Yang short form.
As I move I listen. It is true I never carried a gun, but I had been in rough neighborhoods before I left New York, and I found plenty of them in Africa. The real jungles of the world are not beneath leaves and vine. They are found in the concrete canyons and hardscrabble dens of humankind. I’m not good enough to declare my hands as dangerous weapons, but I’m not defenseless either.