Navy SEAL Rescuer. Shirlee McCoy
filled the truck, rumbling through Catherine as she sat tense and stiff between the two.
She wanted to relax. She really did, but she was pressed leg to leg, arm to arm, shoulder to shoulder with a guy who carried a gun and looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.
“Where are you from, Darius? You didn’t just suddenly appear in the old Morris place, I know that.” Eileen leaned past Catherine to study Darius more thoroughly. Probably sizing him up as grandson-in-law material.
“Born and raised in South Carolina, ma’am.”
“You’re far from home.”
“I did a stint in the navy. Came back stateside a few years ago. My job brought me here.”
“You with the police?”
“I’m a security contractor.”
“A bodyguard?”
“If you want.” He shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against Catherine’s. She wanted to lean away, but that would only call attention to her discomfort.
“What about your parents? They still in South Carolina?”
“My father has never been in the picture. My mother passed away eighteen years ago.”
“Sorry to hear that, son. It’s hard to lose a parent. Catherine knows all about that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Eileen elbowed her, but Catherine didn’t plan to offer details.
“Catherine was five when her parents passed. How about you, Darius?”
“I was fourteen.”
“That makes you what? Thirty-two or -three?”
“Eileen, stop.”
“He’s our neighbor. I’m trying to get to know him.”
“You’re giving him the third degree, and I want you to cut it out.”
“I don’t mind. Like your grandmother said, we’re neighbors,” Darius cut into the argument. Neither woman looked like she was up to a verbal dispute. Eileen’s sallow complexion and frailty tugged at his heart, reminding him of the way his mother had looked at the end of her illness, but Catherine worried him more. Pale skin, pale lips, dark circles beneath her eyes, she looked worn and overwhelmed.
“She still shouldn’t be giving you the third degree,” Catherine muttered, and Eileen huffed.
“I’ll do what I want to do. At my age, I’ve earned the right.”
“Fine. Do what you want. Just leave me out of your matchmaking schemes.”
Catherine’s bluntness made Darius smile. Melody had always been sweet and ingratiating, almost too eager to agree with other people. He frowned, not sure why he was thinking about his ex-fiancée. She was four years in the past, and he’d stopped mourning what they might have had a long time ago.
“You can’t blame your old gran for wanting to see you with someone before she dies.”
“Don’t talk like that, Eileen.” Catherine sighed, patting her grandmother’s knee.
“You don’t want to talk about that, then let’s talk about you and those bruises you have on your face and neck.”
“I told you—”
“We’d talk at home, but you know what’s going to happen when we get home. Same thing that happens every time I have chemo. I’m going to climb in bed, and I’m going to sleep for the rest of the day. You’re hoping by the time I wake up, I’ll have forgotten, and maybe I will have, so let’s talk about it now.”
“Eileen—”
“You know, don’t you, Darius Osborne?” Eileen turned her attention to Darius, and he felt like a kid in the principal’s office.
“It’s Catherine’s story to tell, Miz Eileen.”
“Well, she’s not telling, so you may as well.”
“I wasn’t telling because it’s not a big deal, but if you’re going to keep pushing, then I guess I don’t have a choice. Some kid came by the house, trying to scare me. He got a little carried away.” Catherine touched her neck, and Darius was sure she didn’t believe that any more than he did. A little carried away didn’t result in welts and bruises.
“Did you call the sheriff?”
“Of course.”
“And he’s looking for this kid?” Eileen asked.
“Yes, they even brought out a K-9 unit,” Catherine offered quickly.
“Hopefully, that will be enough, because I can tell you right now, Catherine Marie, I’m not happy about this. You’re out there at that old house by yourself way too much. What if he comes back and gets a lot carried away?”
“No worries. I work for a company that’s ready to install a security system. We just need to get the word from you and Catherine,” Darius cut in.
“You work for a security company?”
“Yes, and my boss is at your place now. By the time we get back, he should have a quote ready for you.”
“No quote necessary. You go ahead and tell your boss to get started,” Eileen said, and Catherine stiffened.
“We need to get a couple of quotes before we decide.”
“Why? So we can spend two or three weeks making a decision?”
“So that we can make an informed one.”
“Like we made about central air? We still don’t have that, by the way.”
“Eileen—”
“I’m dying, Catherine. I want to be comfortable in my home while I do it.”
“You’re not dying,” she responded, a catch in her voice.
“I’m dying, but maybe not for a while. I still want the air-conditioning, though.”
“Fine. We’ll get that, and we’ll put in a security system. Happy now?” Catherine sounded anything but happy, and Darius wanted to tell her that it was better to be safe than sorry, better to be overprepared than under. He figured she knew it though, and he kept silent.
“Very. Now, let me be. I’m exhausted.” Eileen settled back into her seat and into silence, and Catherine fell silent, too. Darius could feel her tension, though. It radiated out, swirling through the cab until the air was thick with it.
Sweat beaded her brow, her breathing was hitched and uneven, her fist white-knuckle tight.
“Are you okay?” he asked, but she didn’t respond, just stared straight ahead, her body so taut he thought she might break.
He pulled into the breakdown lane, letting the truck idle as he shifted, looked into her pale face. He recognized a panic attack when he saw one. He’d had plenty of them in the first year after he’d returned from the war. “Take a deep breath.”
“I’m fine.” But she inhaled deeply, her body shaking with the emotions she’d been holding in. As aloof as she seemed, she wasn’t unaffected. Not by her grandmother’s illness and not by the attack.
“Would it help if I let you drive?”
“I don’t know.” She inhaled again, and he got out of the truck, gestured for her to do the same.
“Let’s give it a try, okay?”
She nodded, sliding across the seat and nearly tumbling out onto the pavement. He caught her, his arms latching onto a slim, firm waist. Heat seeped into his palms, searing through him so unexpectedly he almost released his hold before she caught her