A Love for Safekeeping (6 page)

“Sure,” she’d said, hesitating. Was Skylar thinking of giving Keys back his job? She slammed her thoughts shut. She was getting paranoid.

Following lunch, the students settled into their seats, and the afternoon began with her half-eaten sandwich churning inside her. While the children worked on spelling, Jane tried with little success to concentrate on paperwork at her desk.

Pausing, Jane looked toward the door and saw a man watching her from the hallway. He saw her look and he signaled. Jane rose and tiptoed to the doorway.

“May I help you?” she asked, stepping outside.

“I’m Dale Keys,” he said, extending his hand. “This was my classroom.”

“Jane Conroy,” she said, clasping his fingers. “I’ve heard.”

“Really? Just thought I’d introduce myself.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jane inched toward her room. The man seemed normal enough to her. Why did Skylar call him off-the-wall? Then she remembered. “Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you that Mr. Skylar said you should stop by his office.”

“Really?” A long, deep exhale rattled from his throat. “I’m surprised. He and I didn’t get along.”

“He can be rather opinionated.” She figured her comment was tactful.

Dale tucked his hand in his trouser pocket, and Jane listened to the metal jingle while she waited for his next comment.

He didn’t say a word, and hearing the children’s whispers, she glanced into the classroom and tapped against the doorjamb. The room quieted. “I’d better get back inside,” Jane said.

“I suppose I should see what Skylar wants.”

After they said goodbye, she reentered the classroom, thinking of Skylar’s negative attitude. The guy seemed okay.

After the final bell, she stood by the door while the children filed out, when Celia gestured for her to wait.

Jane nodded, then went inside to straighten her desk and gathered her belongings.

“Ready?” Celia asked, standing at her doorway.

“Just about.” She headed for the closet for her handbag, wondering why Celia had a silly smirk on her face. “So why the grin?”

“Aren’t you curious?” She giggled. “I had another date with Len. I didn’t get to tell you at lunch.”

“Great. One of these days I’ll have to meet him.”

“I’m sure you will. When I’m more comfortable with him, maybe we can plan a double date or something.”

“Sounds good.” Jane pulled her handbag from the closet and carried it back to her desk.

Celia followed her. “I take it you survived your conference with Skylar.”

“Barely.”

“That bad.”

As she relayed the details of her meeting, Jane searched inside her handbag for her car keys. They weren’t there. Concerned, she felt in her pockets.

“Lose something?”

“My keys. I always keep them in my purse.”

She emptied the contents on her desk and rifled through them. “They aren’t here.” Anxiety rattled her as she ran her hands over her clothing again. “Not in my pockets, either.”

Celia’s brow arched. “Did you leave your purse sitting out?”

“No. It’s been locked in my closet all day.” She panicked, thinking someone might have her house and car keys. “I hate to ask, Celia, but could you give me a lift home and back? I have a set there. If—”

“Sure. No problem.” She rested her hand on Jane’s shoulder. “I know how bad you must feel. I hate losing things.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Jane said, gathering her books. “I feel like I’m losing more than my keys.” She pointed to her head.

Celia grinned. “I lost my keys once in the lot of a strip mall. What a mess.”

Celia relayed the story as they headed toward the exit. Passing the office, Mary called out and Jane waved goodbye, but before she got outside, Mary called her again.

“I have your car keys,” Mary said, flagging her back to the office.

Puzzled, Jane faltered.

“Go ahead,” Celia said. “I’ll wait.”

Jane hurried into the office and Mary pulled the keys out of her desk.

“They were outside most of the day,” Mary said.

“Outside? You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Charlie just brought them in an hour or so ago. You left them in the ignition with the door unlocked. You’re lucky someone didn’t steal your car.”

Lucky? Jane knew better. “Blessed,” she said, then realized she hadn’t given credit to God in a long time.

K
yle was naturally suspicious. When Jane told him about the parent who gave her a rough time, he wondered if there might be some connection between Jane’s troubles and the man.

When he checked Sam Malik in the police records, he found nothing except a few complaints he lodged against his neighbors. Apparently teachers and neighbors were both on Malik’s list.

He’d been anxious to tell Jane what he’d done, and as they sat together in her living room on Thursday evening, he remembered to give her the details.

“Maybe he’s tired of complaining and decided to try some action…with me,” Jane said, her face strained with tension.

“Could be, but the police need more than speculation.”

She crumbled against the sofa. “That’s what I can’t stand. Nothing can be done until someone threatens me. Or worse.” She pulled her back away from the cushion and narrowed her eyes. “When they find my
dead body somewhere, then they’ll do something.” Her disheartened sigh filled the air.

He looked at her with his own frustration. “No one’s going to hurt you, Jane. I know you’re frustrated, but that’s the way the law works. The police need hard evidence. At least a suspect.”

If he didn’t hurt for her—fear for her—his matter-of-fact answer would be exactly that, a fact. But he did care, and he had very little solace to offer her.

As if she’d thought of a new idea, Jane’s voice buoyed. “What about the
Dick and Jane
primer?”

Her persistence edged on his own jagged nerves. “I showed you what I found that day at the school when I returned the book. Remember?”

“I guess.” She stared down at the floor.

Her downhearted expression tugged at his guilt for being impatient. “All we found was the stamp from the Redmond School District and the name ‘Howard’ written inside. That’s it.” He tilted her chin. “And trust me, over the years, many students named Howard went to elementary school in Redmond.”

“Did you check?” Her look pierced him.

Kyle flexed his fingers, hoping to relieve his rising frustration. He spoke in a slow, calm voice. “The police department has real crimes to pursue, Jane. They can’t spend man-hours searching for crimes that haven’t been committed yet.”

“That’s what I mean. I could be the next real crime,” she muttered.

“I know how you must feel, but we need a legitimate threat of harm before we can really act. ‘See Jane run’ circled on a page isn’t it.”

Jane flung her arms above her head. “Great. Let’s pray for a threat, then.”

Though she was driving him up a wall, Kyle wanted to hold her against his chest and comfort her. “Don’t be silly. Let’s pray that whoever’s doing this gets bored with it.”

Her head drooped, and she didn’t speak for a moment. “I’m sorry, Kyle.”

He could see her struggling not to cry.

“I don’t want to take my frustration out on you,” she continued. “Everything scares me. The other day I turned around and shrieked at my own reflection in the mirror.”

She looked so pitiful, Kyle chuckled. “Better that than someone else shrieking when they look at you.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I know. I sound like an idiot.”

“No, you sound like a frightened lady who’s tired of being afraid.” And so was he. He cared too much to see her scared senseless.

Jane studied his face, a combination of tenderness and anxiety. He feared for her. Fear? How many times had Kyle faced fear? Part of the job, she supposed. She’d noticed how he seemed to be alert, standing in just the right way, even when he was off duty. “Are you ever frightened, Kyle?”

Her question seemed to surprise him. “Sure. Why?”

“I don’t know. Since this happened I’m jittery all the time. I hear strange noises at night.” She ran her fingers over her temples, feeling the beating of her pulse, a throbbing that was too familiar. “I try to push it from my mind, but…I don’t know, it seems to overwhelm me.”

“Jane, I pray for you every day. But fear shouldn’t be part of your job. Fear is built into my job, I suppose. If not fear, anticipation or vigilance. I focus on my
weapon and my back, and I guard them both. Redmond is a decent town, so I have it easy compared to some.”

Kyle slid his arm around her, then caught her chin between his thumb and finger. “Don’t worry about me. You have enough to worry about.”

She searched his concerned face, and a new emotion touched her. A different kind of flutter rose in her chest. Not the jackhammer she’d felt of late, this sensation rippled like hummingbird wings. Her breath suspended for a heartbeat.

Kyle’s left hand rose, caressing her face. He pressed his palm against her cheek, and his gaze drifted to her eyes, suspended there for a moment, then moved to her lips. His eyes had asked a question, and hers had given the answer. As she tilted her head upward, he lowered his lips to hers.

His fingers slid to the nape of her neck, and pleasure rippled down her spine.

When their lips parted, Kyle’s gaze sought hers, his lids heavy and telling. A throaty murmur left him. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I met you.” A long, slow sigh lifted his shoulders.

“So have I,” Jane admitted quietly. “Fantasies rarely equal reality, but this time it does.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she said.

He looked at her with question, then frowned.

Tangled with concern, she faltered. “What’s wrong?”

“I think we should test these feelings again, just to be certain.”

The tense moment lifted, and a grin curved her lips. “You have a good point.”

This time they moved in unison, and Jane met his
lips in eager anticipation, exploring the new sensations that raced through her. With her inhibitions abandoned, she lifted her fingers, touching the hollow of his cheek and feeling his stubbled chin. Her hand followed a path to the nape of his neck, drawing her fingers through his thick, toffee-colored hair and cradling his head in her palm.

With tenderness, Kyle drew back and Jane savored the final moments of lips touching lips. Both filled the silence with an audible sigh.

“I’m positive about that kiss being as good as I imagined,” Jane said.

“Me, too,” he whispered.

She straightened herself in the seat and shifted to face him. “I think I’d better get us something very cold to drink. What do you say?”

“Lots and lots of ice,” he agreed.

Kyle stood first, extending his hands to help her rise. She stepped toward the kitchen, and he followed. When Jane opened the refrigerator, Wilcox meandered in and posed nearby. Kyle tousled the cat’s fur and gathered him into his arms.

Filling tall glasses with ice first, Jane felt a hidden fear rise up her back. She’d opened herself to Kyle, allowed her heart to admit her growing feelings, but the situation hadn’t changed. Though he was dressed like any other man tonight, he often wore a police officer’s uniform. Was she setting herself up for hurt?

She brushed the thoughts aside. He was different than her father, she reminded herself. But she had things to think about. Wounds to heal and fears to scatter.

Kyle stood so near she could smell the arousing scent of his aftershave. She poured soda into the
glasses, then handed him one. “Now, if you can dump your friend—” she gestured toward the cat “—we can sit and talk about something more pleasant than my problems.”

He winked. “Great. What did you have in mind?” He set Wilcox on the floor.

She gave Kyle a gentle poke. “You’d better behave, or I’ll tell your father.” She walked in front of him to the living room.

“Not that,” he teased. “Oh, by the way, my father asked me to invite you to church next Sunday. Sometimes we can get a free dinner out of it.”

Her stomach flipped and then righted itself. The first instinct was to find an excuse, but she’d prayed for God’s help, and for all she knew, this was God’s guidance.

Jane winced, and Kyle sensed her turmoil. “Listen, you don’t have to answer me now. Maybe some other time.” Though disappointed, he offered the suggestion without reservation.

“Thanks, but I accept.” Jane sank into the love seat. “Sorry I didn’t answer you right away. It’s a long story, but I’m working on some old issues. One of these days I’ll overcome them, I hope.”

Feeling weighted by her struggle, he slipped into the seat beside her. “Well, church is the best place in the world to lay down your burdens.”

Jane laughed. “Are you sure your father wasn’t correct? Maybe police work is the wrong career for you. Did you ever think you might be cut out to be a minister?”

“Heaven forbid, and I mean that. I don’t have the patience. My father listens without judgment. He’s gen
tle and compassionate. Always has the right words to say to help someone through a problem.”

Jane pressed his cheek with her hand. “That sounds like you.”

Her comment warmed him and brought a smile to his lips. He covered her hand with his. “Now we know what we have to talk about tonight. Reality. I think I’d better tell you about the ‘real’ me.” He kept her hand in his, lowering it between them.

“Hmm? This sounds interesting,” she said.

Once again his heart felt heavy for a moment with the thought of his brother. “My brother should have been the minister. He was gentle and kind, all those things God expects of us. I think that’s why he didn’t survive the fighting. I’m not sure Paulie could find it in his heart to kill anyone—even in self-defense.”

“I don’t believe God expects us to die rather than defend ourselves.”
An eye for an eye
shot through her mind.

“Me, neither. As hard as Paulie’s death was on the family, I think Dad was proud of him for standing up for his belief not to kill. So you see, Dad’s not proud that I choose to carry a weapon and even less for being willing to defend myself, even to the point of killing someone.”

His example slammed into her thoughts and jarred her memories. “I can understand how your dad feels, Kyle. When I remember my father going to work, I connect it with violence and death. His pistol frightened me.”

Jane’s comment rattled him. Why did some people think of police as symbols of brutality and harshness? Kyle’s frustration edged in his voice. “But an officer is more than violence, Jane. What about coming to a
person’s aid when she needs help? Bringing a lost child home? Safeguarding a person’s property against a break and enter. Finding the guilty and prosecuting them? What would the world be without defenders of justice?”

His words jolted her. Instead of the police, God tangled in her thoughts. God did all those things, too, so why did she hesitate accepting the Heavenly Father’s help? She only thought of God’s wrath, not his compassion and loving kindness.

“You’re right. It’s easy to forget the good things.” Without knowing why, a sense of sorrow inched through her. “I suppose I look at it with different eyes than most.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said.

As he stared into space, the silence weighed heavily on Jane, but she held her tongue.

Finally he looked at her. “So how did you happen to become a teacher?”

The new line of thought surprised her. “I’m not sure. Helping people was important. And I love children. Did a lot of baby-sitting as a girl.” Jane wasn’t sure why he changed the subject. Though she was relieved, their revelations seemed incomplete. She had so much more she could have said. “Always thought I wanted a big family, lots of kids of my own,” she added.

“So? Where are they?”

“Growing up, I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

The icy sensation swam through her again. “My mom and dad had a strange marriage. Not very loving. I didn’t notice until I was older. Marriage scared me, I suppose.”

“Scared or
scares?
” His eyebrows arched, and he leaned forward, waiting for a response.

No sense in lying. “Scares, I guess.”

His gaze riveted to hers. “How can you tell if the man you’re marrying will be loving and gentle forever?”

“Exactly.” She was astounded at his perception. “How does a person know?”

“Trust. Faith. Support. Prayer.”

His response caught her unprepared. “I asked my mother why she put up with my dad. What she said shocked me.”

Kyle stared at her, obviously expecting an answer, and now that she said it, Jane wished she hadn’t brought it up.

“Mom said she loved him, and the good times outweighed the bad.” Her heart skipped a beat, remembering that day. “She told me that my dad needed her to keep his balance, and she tempered his behavior with the world. I never knew what that meant.”

“Your mom gave him perspective, maybe. Calmed him, let him express his feelings so he could handle them on the job. Something like that.”

She contemplated his words, wondering if he were right. “Like if he…lost his temper with her, he’d control it on the job? Is that it?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Jane, but I do know that when I visit my folks, they listen to my frustration, my ranting and help me deal with it sometimes. Otherwise, I’d carry on at work and get myself in trouble.”

“You?” She tried to picture Kyle angry and out of control. The image didn’t form.

“Yes, me. Sure, most people are controlled and professional on the job. They turn the other cheek, bite
their tongue, swallow their anger, but when they go home, they slam doors, yell at the kids and kick the cat. They get rid of their frustrations.”

His words washed over her. Could it be the truth? Had her father’s anger with her mother been only a release from his difficult job? She found the thought too complex to imagine. Yet, how many times had she come home and yelled at Wilcox or slammed a door? Too often to admit.

“I suppose that’s true. I have to think about it. I’ve looked at marriage with a dubious eye, I know.”

He slid his arm around her shoulder. “Does this feel dubious to you?”

In feigned modesty, she dropped her chin and twisted her head sideways to peek at him. “No, it feels wonderful.”

“I’m sure your mom and dad had those moments, too. Maybe they didn’t let you see that part of their relationship.”

“Maybe.” Her pulsed tripped at the thought. Or was it the look in Kyle’s eyes?