Page 8 of Jethro
“You can’t say it can you?” he asked staring at her as they pulled into the diner.
“Please don’t ask me to,” she whispered with a tear. He reached across slowly, rubbing his rough thumb pad across the tear on her cheek.
“I will never ask you to do something you don’t want to do. Never. I knew about your friend. It happens more than you think. It’s why I think you should go to counseling. We have several here on site and they’re amazing.”
“You see them?” she frowned, somewhat shocked.
“We all see them. Our lives are violent. Sometimes we see horrible things in our business. Everyone is affected by it, even if they think they’re not. No one should be ashamed of making their mental health a priority.”
He parked the car and ran to the other side, opening the door for her. She smelled clean. Her damp hair twisted at her nape. She wore a pair of old blue jeans, frayed at the knees and he thought it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
The white blouse had a ruffled collar and full, puffy sleeves. It was feminine without trying.
“You smell great,” he smiled.
“Thank you. My favorite body wash and perfume. You’re very observant,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I guess I am,” he laughed. They took a seat in a booth and ordered their breakfast. He knew the answer but wanted to hear it from her. “Do you have family nearby?”
“Yes. And no.” Jethro took a sip of coffee, trying to make it last and give her time to respond. “As I said, my parents don’t approve of me or any of my choices. I was supposed to be the stereotypical southern daughter. Sorority princess, beauty queen, get a degree in anything as long as it’s unimportant. Marriage and babies were important.”
“I bet they hated you going overseas.”
“That’s putting it mildly. I left without them knowing. I sent a letter to them. My father threatened to come and get me, then realized I was in a war zone. He’s strict, not stupid.”
“I’m sure they worried for you.”
“No, they worried that I would embarrass them. Humiliate my mother at the ladies’ league luncheons. Give my father’s business partners something to gossip about. When I came home,” she looked out the window, swallowing hard. Jethro placed his huge hand over one of hers.
“When I came home, I was told not to speak of my ‘ordeal’. It was terrible and would make others uncomfortable. I tried to make appointments with therapists and my parents refused to pay for it.”
“I’m really sorry, Aurora. I’m here. If you ever just want to talk to me, I’ll listen. I won’t say a thing. I won’t judge.”
“Thank you,” she said with a strained smile. “That’s very kind of you.”
He changed the subject, talking about the cooler fall weather and the upcoming holiday festivities at Belle Fleur. He spoke to her about the runs they’d made and the laughter when one of the firefighters saved a cat in a tree and then got clawed.
The more they spoke, the more relaxed she became. The more relaxed she became, the more she felt her fear rise.
“I-I think I need to leave,” she said suddenly standing. “Thank you for the breakfast but I need to get home.”
“Of course,” he said without arguing. He threw some cash on the table and left the diner with her, driving back to the station. When he stopped by her car, she jumped out before he could even say anything.
Jethro raised a hand as if to wave goodbye and she waved back. She sped out of the parking lot and he just sat there watching her.
“You can run, Aurora. But you can’t hide.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“How are you guys doing at the station?” asked Ham.
“Good,” nodded Sonny. “It’s actually been a nice change from what we usually do. It’s also let us meet some of the locals and speak to them.”
“We do think they have one issue, though,” said Brunson. “Six dumpster fires this week. Someone is intentionally setting them and we don’t know who or why, all in the same general area.”
“Do you need extra help?” asked Rush.
“No. We may reach out if we find something suspicious. For now, we’ll just keep collecting evidence.” Rush nodded and then nudged Ham as they looked at Jethro.
