Page 17 of Out of Time (Undaunted Courage #3)

NINE

SHE HAD SEEDS TO PLANT with two people today ... one of them Natalie. And the timing of her employer’s appearance was ideal.

Calling up a smile, Lydia paused in the hall as the older woman exited the study. “Good morning, Ms. Boyer.”

“Hello, Lydia. Sorry for the mess in the kitchen. Don’t worry about cleaning in there until Micah is finished. I expect he’ll be done by your next visit on Friday.”

“I can work around him. No worries.” She summoned up her most solicitous expression. “I heard about the fire from the sheriff. He called me to ask about a potholder.”

“I don’t suppose you knew anything about that?”

“No, ma’am, but I’m glad you heard the smoke alarm. The damage could have been a lot worse. You could even have been hurt.”

“Yes, I was most fortunate. I was also very lucky that Cara appeared when she did. I’m not certain I could have extinguished it without her help.”

The perfect opening.

“The sheriff told me she heard the alarm and rushed in to help. But I keep wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t been close by—and what could happen once she’s gone and you’re here all by yourself. Especially after your dizzy spells.”

Natalie offered her a strained smile. “You sound like my cousin.”

Excellent. If Steven was concerned, perhaps he’d champion the idea she was about to propose.

“We all worry about people who matter to us.” She tightened her grip on the handle of the vacuum cleaner beside her, wadded the dust rag in her other hand into a ball, and took the plunge. “Have you ever considered having someone live here with you?”

“I have Micah.”

“I can see how that would be a comfort, but he isn’t always close by. I was thinking more like a live-in housekeeper.”

Natalie cocked her head. “No. I can’t say I’ve ever given such a notion any thought, but I do like that idea better than the one Steven proposed.”

Uh-oh.

That wasn’t promising.

Lydia tried to keep her features neutral. “What did he suggest?”

“He thinks I should move to St. Louis, closer to him. Buy a condo.”

A word she tried not to use in public echoed in her mind.

That wasn’t the sort of news she wanted to hear. It would wreak havoc with her plans.

She schooled her features into a look of dismay—which wasn’t hard. “I suppose I can see his point. But I can’t imagine you not living in this house. It’s always been your home.”

“I know. I can’t imagine leaving here, either.” She sighed and leaned more heavily on her cane. “Age is creeping up on me, though. The calendar doesn’t lie. One of these days I may require a caretaker.”

“Well, if you ever decide you’d like someone to be close at hand, I’d be happy to step in. I’m here two days a week as it is. That might put your cousin’s mind at ease. Yours too. I’d hate for you to have to leave this beautiful house unless no other option was available.”

Natalie studied her for a minute, with the assessing gaze that was as sharp as it had always been.

“I appreciate that, Lydia. You’re a hard worker, and you’ve been very reliable in the years you’ve been with me.

Your idea may be a sensible solution. You don’t have any family who would object to you leaving your own place behind to live here? ”

Ha.

Randy wouldn’t give a rat’s patootie where she lived once Ashley moved in.

But cutting ties with him completely wouldn’t be smart. It was possible he’d be useful if she needed help with certain parts of her plan. Assuming she dangled an incentive in front of him.

“No, ma’am. I’m living with my brother, but I plan to move soon.” Like ASAP.

That’s why she had to plant a seed with the professor too, to expedite the process.

“Let me give your idea some thought.”

“Of course. If you’re finished in the study for now, I’ll go ahead and clean in there.”

“Yes, we’re done. Cara’s gone back to the cottage, and I’m going to brave the noise and mess in the kitchen to have a quick lunch before my nap.”

“Good luck with the nap.” She cringed as a hammer banged.

“I may resort to ear plugs, like I did yesterday. I’ll see you on Friday, Lydia.”

“I’ll be here. Like always. You can count on me.”

She moved aside as Natalie left the room and limped down the hall toward the kitchen, then trundled the vacuum cleaner into the study and closed the door. Exhaled.

While Natalie hadn’t jumped at the idea of a permanent housemate, she hadn’t nixed it outright, either. On the contrary. She’d appeared to be receptive.

The groundwork for the relocation had been laid.

Now on to a bit of recon here in the study.

Wiping her palms down her slacks, she crossed to the desk.

After casting a glance back toward the door, she quietly opened the drawer.

Pulled out the treasure. Snapped several fast photos with her phone as proof the merchandise existed.

Then she returned it to its spot, stowed her cell, and went back to the vacuum cleaner.

Important as it was to have photos, they might not be needed that soon.

If Natalie agreed to her plan to move in here, there wasn’t as much urgency to deal with the merchandise.

In fact, it would be smart to wait until the professor was gone and the project she and Natalie were working on was finished.

There was too much activity in those desk drawers at the moment.

She flipped on the vacuum and began running it in rhythmic sweeps over the large area rug, leaving a meticulous pattern behind in the nap.

If she could expedite the professor’s departure, that would speed up both aspects of her plan.

So as soon as she finished cleaning in here, she’d plant seed number two.

CARA TIED HER SPORT SHOE, rose, and picked up her sunglasses.

Time for her post-lunch walk.

And with Micah still hammering in the kitchen, there was no chance she’d come upon him suddenly in the woods and startle both of them.

She took a swig from her bottle of water and—

At a sudden knock, she jerked. Coughed. Spun toward the door.

A muffled voice spoke, but she couldn’t decipher the words.

“Hold on a minute.” She hacked again. Took a slow, calming breath as she walked across the room. Pulled the door open.

Lydia stood on the other side.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Professor.” A bucket of cleaning supplies hung on one arm, and she held folded sheets and towels in the other.

“I try to get the cottage done while you and Ms. Boyer are working, but the house took me longer today, what with the mess in the kitchen. Is this a bad time to clean?”

“First of all, it’s Cara. And now is fine.” Her pulse began to moderate. “I was about to take a walk around the lake, so I won’t be in your way.”

The housekeeper frowned. “You’re going walking alone?”

Cara’s antennas went up. “Yes. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

She shifted from one foot to the other. “No. I mean ... Micah’s in the house working. He shouldn’t be out and about.”

“Would it be a problem if he were?” It was possible Lydia knew more about the man than Natalie or Brad or Steven did.

“Well ... I guess not. He’s never been in any trouble that I know of. But he kind of creeps me out. I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable walking around in the woods with him roaming about. That could just be me, though. Ms. Boyer doesn’t seem to have any worries about him.”

No, she didn’t, and she’d had plenty of opportunities to observe him in the years he’d lived on the property.

Nevertheless, Lydia’s concerns were disconcerting.

Not that there was any reason to admit that.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She forced up the corners of her mouth and patted the pocket in her sweatpants. “Besides, I have my pepper gel with me. Comes from city living, I suppose.”

“I think that’s smart. It always pays to be prepared. And Micah is probably harmless.” Her tone, however, suggested she didn’t believe that. “Are you certain you don’t mind me cleaning now?”

“Absolutely. Come in.”

The woman slipped past her. “Enjoy your walk.”

“Thanks.”

But despite her perfunctory response, the truth was she wouldn’t find the trek as relaxing now that it was obvious someone who knew Micah had reservations about him.

She did have her pepper gel, though, and as she struck off down the path, she pulled it out. Keeping it at the ready would help calm her nerves.

And once she came back, thirty minutes of stretching should help diffuse any residual tension and set her up for a productive afternoon of research and writing.

Tomorrow, she’d rinse and repeat.

Because she wasn’t going to let vague, groundless fears keep her cottage-bound.

Especially since Brad Mitchell hadn’t seemed too concerned about Micah. The sheriff came across as a smart man with sound judgment, and he hadn’t issued any warnings. And while they were new acquaintances, she was inclined to trust his instincts.

Even if Lydia’s wariness about the groundskeeper undermined her confidence in those instincts a tiny little bit.

“YOU EVER FIGURE OUT the potholder puzzle?”

At the question, Brad swiveled in his chair to face his senior deputy, who’d propped a shoulder against the office doorway.

“No. I talked to the housekeeper and Paul. Neither claimed to have any knowledge of a burned potholder. I haven’t talked to the cousin who was there.”

“Are you planning to?”

“I don’t know.”

“You starting to come to the same conclusion we did? That Ms. Boyer threw it in the trash and doesn’t remember?”

Brad leaned back, rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, and steepled his fingers. “She’s adamant she didn’t, and in my encounters with her over the past week, I didn’t pick up anything to indicate she’s lost one iota of mental acuity or become forgetful.”

“Sometimes that sort of thing can come on suddenly in older people. Plus, it’s not like you see enough of her to give you a baseline comparison.”

“True. But Cara’s spent hours with her, and she said Ms. Boyer is as sharp as she is.”

“So it’s Cara now.” Larry ambled in, speculation sparking in his eyes.

“That’s what she told me to call her.” He kept his tone conversational. “She says only her students call her professor.”

“Uh-huh.” Larry dropped into the chair across the desk. “She’s a pretty woman.”

This wasn’t a conversational tangent he wanted to follow.

But changing the subject too abruptly would only feed his deputy’s interest.

Best plan? Play this low key and casual.

“Yes, she is.”

“She married?”

“That hasn’t come up in our conversations.” But he’d bet a week’s salary she wasn’t.

“You could find out.”

Brad stifled a groan.

For months now, Larry had been dropping subtle and not-so-subtle hints that he should reenter the dating scene. And nothing so far had dissuaded him from his mission to beef up his boss’s social life.

Brad mulled over his strategy.

Maybe he needed to be more direct instead of brushing off these types of comments with a simple “not interested.”

He rocked forward and linked his fingers on the desk. “For the record, I’m not planning to take another walk down the aisle. Ever. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to nudge me that direction.”

Larry considered him. “Can I be honest?”

“Depends on how much you value your job.” He was only half joking.

“I’ll take the risk.” Larry crossed an ankle over a knee, his relaxed posture at odds with the intensity in his eyes.

“The truth is, Elizabeth wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone, mourning her.

I knew her. She wasn’t like that. She was full of life and joy and believed in living each moment as fully as possible.

Nor would she want you to blame yourself for what happened that night. ”

Stomach knotting, Brad clenched his fingers tighter.

He couldn’t argue with anything Larry had said.

But there was more to the story.

“I’m not going to disagree with your take on Elizabeth—but what happened that night was my fault.”

“Sorry. Not buying.”

Anger coiled up inside him. “How can you say that? You weren’t there. I was. I know every detail.”

“You weren’t there at the moment it happened.

So you can’t know every detail.” Larry uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“But I know you—and I know how much you loved Elizabeth and Jonathan. I also know that wallowing in guilt and punishing yourself for the rest of your life isn’t going to bring them back.

If you have amends to make, make them with God and let the past go.

Focus on today. Elizabeth would want you to make it count .

.. and to fill it with joy.” He stood. “Here’s my two cents.

If the opportunity comes along to find love again, don’t add passing it by to your list of regrets.

See you on patrol.” He gave a mock salute and disappeared out the door.

Brad remained in his chair, staring at the blank wall across from his desk.

The wall that used to hold a photo of him and Elizabeth and Jonathan ... until looking at it every day became too painful and he’d relegated the beaming trio to a closet at home.

An exercise in futility.

It hadn’t lessened the ache in his heart. Nothing had.

At last, he stood and trudged over to the window. Shoved his hands into his pockets and lifted his face toward the heavens.

Larry may have stepped a mite too far into personal territory today, but they knew each other well. And his deputy was right.

Elizabeth wouldn’t want him to grieve forever. Nor would she hold the mistake he’d made that night against him. She’d want him to move on. To love again, if the opportunity arose.

In his head, he knew that. But his heart wasn’t on board yet. Nor would it be until he could put his guilt to rest and stop what-iffing.

A monumental task he’d backburnered for years, but which had suddenly become a high priority.

Expelling a breath, Brad massaged his temple, where a dull pounding kept tempo with the beat of his heart.

Maybe Larry’s advice on the guilt front was sound too.

Maybe he ought to seek forgiveness from the highest source.

While his trips to church had been sporadic since that terrible night, despite Father Johnson’s attempts to reach out to him, he’d be welcomed back to the fold with open arms if he chose to return. Offered absolution.

All he had to do was open the door ... to God and the future.

A future that beckoned with a touch of brightness for the first time in three long, lonely years.

Thanks to an encounter with a lovely professor who’d brought something back to his life that had been absent since that cold, rainy night when his world came crashing down.

Hope.