The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1) (33 page)

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Authors: Elizabetta Holcomb

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BOOK: The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1)
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Married.

Beau narrowed her eyes as said husband turned the corner into the alley that housed the ice machine. He was talking to the Sheriff’s deputy. She could see why Elizabet had been cajoled into marrying the guy. He was extremely good looking—to the point that his physical appearance was distracting—even to a child such as herself.

Beau did not trust him. He talked funny, and he did not smile. Which made him the total opposite of Elizabet. Her cousin had worn a stupid, full on grin since she was resurrected yesterday. It was disgusting.

He looked uncomfortable in his skin, too—as if what he wore chafed him or something. His lack of self-confidence did not match up with his demeanor. Either something was off or he was a fake.

“Great!” Rixby stopped shoveling and spit on the ground beside the ice machine. A clump of tobacco fell from his lip.

Beau narrowed her eyes until they were barely slits. “You’re not supposed to chew.”

“You don’t matter, so shut your face,” Rixby snarled. He jerked his chin to the approaching cop and cousin stealer. “Get off your rump and go help them. I don’t need you crying around me and telling me what to do. Go find your precious Jeremy, and keep them away from me, too.”

Beau felt her lip wobble. She would not cry—again. It was giving her a headache, but when Jeremy’s name was mentioned, she cried.

“Beau,” Deputy Mike said. He nodded to her and she offered a shaky smile. “This here is Dr. Jareth Tremaine. He’s helping us look for Jeremy. He’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Beau tipped her face up to look at them. From her seat on the upside down five gallon bucket he was tall. She had spied on him, hidden from view behind Grandma’s barn yesterday, but she had not officially met him. He was larger up close, like the items in a rear view mirror. And he was a doctor.

That was . . . unexpected.

She squinted against the sun that was behind the men. “What you want to know? I told everybody I haven’t seen him since before the storm. He went to the shelter and I stayed here—at home.”

Everyone knew her dad refused to evacuate. He wanted to be home to open the store as soon as the storm allowed. People would need ice and beer. They had a generator that had kept everything going. Their home was attached to the store, so it was easy.

Or not.

Beau would have nightmares for years having stayed through the mega storm that destroyed everything around them. By grace of God, they survived, and so had the store and their home. It was providence. There was no other explanation as to why she was still alive and sitting on bucket speaking with a man who looked too young to be a doctor.

And married to her teenage cousin.

Bleh.

“I have a few questions,” Jareth said. He smiled at her, proving he was able. She noticed that his teeth were nice, too. It proved her theory that he was perfect. Not even his teeth refused to be anything but pearly white and straight. “And I wanted to meet you. Elizabet is very fond of you.”

Fond? Did he mean that she was liked? Beau smirked. “Where is Lizabet? She hasn’t come around since you brought her back. As your
wife
.” She looked away and managed not to gag. Rixby was leaning on the shovel with his hand on his hip, taking in the interrogation with feigned disinterest. He inspected his dirty hand for splinters. “I only saw her from far away. She didn’t even come talk to me.”

His smile positively blinded her, more so than the sun at his back. “Lizabet,” he repeated as if testing the sound. “I like that.” His head tilted slightly and his lips twisted. “Do not be angry with her.” He touched his chest with his fingertips. “It is my fault. The marriage, that is. I insisted on it. I am to leave in a few days for England. I have to complete university. She has been busy packing and making provision for your grandmother. I assure you that she wants to see you soon, but we must find Jeremy first. It’s important.”

“You talk funny,” Beau mumbled. She did not understand why Jeremy was so important to Elizabet’s new husband. He did not know Jeremy. It bothered her that he was here to discuss the search. He should be with Elizabet—his new wife—not worried about a boy he never met.

She eyed Mr. Mike, who looked like he wanted out, too. The deputy frowned at Rixby. “Where’s your daddy?”

Rixby frowned back. “In the store.” He spit, but the tobacco was long gone.

“Dr. Tremaine,” Mr. Mike said without removing his eyes from Rixby’s face. “Do you mind if I leave you here to handle business? I have to discuss underage selling. I don’t want to seem sloppy in the aftermath of the storm.”

Jareth nodded. “Of course. I will stay and speak with Miss Beau.” He smiled at her again, but this time Beau was sure to bristle outwardly. “We will be famous friends.”

Rixby laughed, a curt, barking sound. Beau stuck her tongue out at her twin. The idiot. People were capable of liking her, too. She was not popular the way he was, but she was likable. The doctor said so.

Deputy Mike motioned for Rixby to lead the way, which he did—reluctantly. It was not his first offense with tobacco. The laws were strict, more stringent than Church regulations. The government guided what was eaten in the home, what was watched, what was taught. They were everywhere. Tobacco was a controlled item; Rixby knew that. It served him right for getting busted.

Beau focused her attention on Jareth. She waited until she heard the back door of the store close before she spoke. “What do you want to know?”

Jareth motioned to the bucket beside her. “May I?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “You might get your jeans dirty, though.”

He glanced down at his radiant white T-shirt and light denim pants. He reminded her of Jeremy, who never had a hair out of place. Jeremy was the most conscientious dresser she knew—and this guy was his equal. That said a lot. Nobody was cleaner than Jeremy. They even sort of looked alike, but Jeremy was a younger, puny version.

Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. First Jeremy, then Elizabet.

She was relieved that Elizabet was home now, but what of Jeremy? He had been missing for over forty-eight hours, and each hour that went by made the prospect of him being found dead more likely. She was already thinking of him in past terms, which made her ashamed of her lack of faith. Jeremy would be full of faith if it were she who was missing.

“I welcome it.” Jareth tugged at the neck of his shirt. “They say cotton is the choice if one wants comfort.” He shook his head. “My opinion differs.”

“Hmm,” Beau hummed and narrowed her eyes. She watched him flip the bucket and push it back a few feet. He sat and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He had the lightest eyes she had ever seen. They were blue, but almost gray they were so pale. The contrast with his black brows and hair was startling. So much like Jeremy.

Her lips slid to one side. “You’re very cute.”

“Thank you,” he said, and he smirked as well. “Your cousin says the same.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“For one so young, you are perceptive and bold.”

“I read a lot.”

“I should thank you for that,” he said.

Beau pulled a face. “What?”

“You read to Elizabet. She told me you read to her. You helped her study. About wound care.”

“That was you?” She tried not to seem surprised, but she realized at once it was he who had been hurt. She should have known it was not merely the curious project Elizabet claimed. Her cousin had been too nervous. She had rambled on and on about how she was interested in wound therapies when she was about as interested in medical procedures as Beau was about taxidermy. Not one bit.

“It was,” he admitted.

“I thought it was an animal.” She shook her head. It had to be an animal, because who would have a wound like the one she described? “She’s always doctoring some creature. I guess the
human
medical books should have tipped me off. How did you get injured? She said it was like a knife slash.”

“I will explain later,” he said. He steepled his fingers. “I have other things on my mind.”

“Like Jeremy?” she asked. “You want me to forget that somewhere under your sparkly clean clothes you have a nasty scar that my cousin helped with.”

“You speak well for your age.”

“I read,” she repeated. “Does it bother you that she can’t read?” She shrugged. “I mean, she must have told you, ’cause you know I read to her.”

“I love your cousin, Beau, and she is safe with me. I will take care of her, I promise. And no; it does not trouble me that she cannot read.” He smiled. “I recognize that you are concerned for her. I understand, but you will have to trust me. I want what is best for her and I am best able to take care of her.” He shook his head. “You are more difficult than her father.”

“Yeah, well, he was probably drunk.” She looked away at nothing in particular. “He’s always happy with a few beers in him. You had him at ‘I’m a doctor.’” She shook her head when he said nothing. There was a stray cat climbing a nearby trash heap. She tossed a rock at it and it ran off. “So, what do you want? If you won’t tell me about how you got a knife wound, then tell me why you’re here. I’ve got things to do. My dad will have a heart attack if he comes out here and I’m sitting here talking to you and not doing nothing.”

“I want you show me the spot where you and Jeremy fish. It’s a bridge—”

“I know what you’re talking about,” she interrupted. She fixed her gaze on him. “Do you think that’s where he is?”

Jareth considered her as if he were sizing her up. Those light eyes assessed her, peering into her soul, it seemed, before he nodded slowly. “Yes. I know that is where he is.”

If he was assessing her, she had already done the same, and for some crazy reason she believed him. He did not strike her as a liar.

Beau stood, and the backs of her knees knocked the bucket. “What are you waiting for, then? Screw my chores. Let’s go get him.”

 

ELIZABET WAS TORN
between watching Jareth drive and watching Beau, who was watching her watch Jareth. Both of them were exasperating. Jareth, because he had never driven a vehicle before and had only read about it and observed. Once. It was uncanny how quickly he picked up a skill. And Beau, because she was silent and had a controlled malice about her. Jareth might drive like a natural, but Beau was creeping her out.

“Where was it you said y’all are moving to?” Beau asked.

“She speaks,” Elizabet said out of the corner of her mouth. She twisted to face her friend in the back seat. “England and the Cayman Islands. Have you heard of that?”

Beau shook her head.

“Me, neither.” Elizabet smiled. Beau did not return it, but Elizabet pressed on in a joyful tone anyway. “It’s in the Caribbean. Exciting. I’ve never been outside of Louisiana and now I’m going to live in two places. Of course, I’m talking about Cayman Islands and not England, because England is in . . . England. And the Cayman Islands are in the Caribbean.” She made a face, stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes heavenward. It was something Beau thrived on for comic relief once upon a time.

“You’ve been to Holly Beach,” Beau grumbled. She eyed Jareth as though she wanted to murder him. “If you’ve seen one beach, you’ve seen them all.”

Elizabet laughed, but it was forced. She hid the hurt she felt. “That’s
in
Louisiana.” The truth of it was that Elizabet felt misplaced since returning. Being married to Jareth and living in another time had changed her. She felt disconnected to her life in modern times, and the place she once called home was far away and foreign. She was a stranger among her family.

“I know that,” Beau said. “But you’re talking like all these fancy places will be better.”

“I didn’t say that,” Elizabet said. She turned back and reached over to pinch Jareth’s shirt at his side. If she could touch even a part of him, she would feel strong. In such a short time she had come draw security from him. She gathered that intimacy did that to you. She felt connected to him no matter where he was, as though they were tethered by a string. “You must know how hard it will be to leave you.”

Jareth glanced down to where her fingers twisted his shirt. He took his right hand off the wheel, grabbed her hand and entangled their fingers together. She instantly felt stronger.

“But that’s what you’re doing,” Beau said.

“I would take you with me if I could, and you know it,” Elizabet said. Her jaw stiffened and she looked out the window as tears threatened. The roads were covered with muddy sludge that the storm surge had left behind. Pieces of grass were stuck in the fencing, marking where the water had risen.

Beau had to know she was telling her the truth; Elizabet was aware of her home life. It was a good thing she had Jeremy. Once Elizabet was off into the world, she would need a friend she could trust—one who would hide her and protect her when necessary. Jeremy’s parents knew of her situation, too. There was comfort in knowing she would not be alone once Elizabet moved away.

It was why Elizabet was crying, because she knew how bad things could get in the Benoit household. And she should cry—Beau would never leave here. She had protected Elizabet’s secret until Jareth came along. It was not her fault he found out. The fact Elizabet could not read was not her secret to tell, and in turn, she should get the same care. Her cousin should protect her. It was what families did—at least it was what they had done since forever.

“There!” Beau sprang up and leaned over the front seat of Elizabet’s grandma’s dual cab truck. She pointed toward the approaching bridge. “That’s the one. There’s a driveway near that pump shed. You can pull in there.”

Beau barely waited until the truck was parked before she swung the door open and hit the ground running, hollering for Jeremy.

“Beau!” Jareth called. He came from the truck, slamming the door behind him.

Beau cupped her hands around her mouth to throw her voice further. “Jeremy!” she yelled. She seemed unaware of how desperate she sounded. If he was there, she was determined to find him.

Something was making the air hum around them. A low, yet high-pitched drone penetrated the air. Beau glanced up at the electric poles. Some were snapped from the recent storm, and the power had not yet been restored. It would take a week or more before they had electricity again in this area, but the sound vibrated like an electrical current.

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