For a few minutes, she lost sight of him and turned her attention to the other competitors who’d joined her table for lunch. When she next spotted Rory, his eyes were on her. Drawing near, he held homemade oatmeal cookies in one hand and an ice pack and aspirin in the other. He’d cleaned his face and changed his clothes. Tabitha welcomed him with a smile despite her edgy nerves.
“That’s not fair,” she said, pointing at his clean clothes as he emptied the contents of his hands onto the table. “I’d really like to change.”
A few more fans passed, shaking Rory’s hand and patting his back. When they left, he took the seat next to her.
“Sorry about all that. You’d never know I was just home three months ago.” He passed her the cookie then the aspirin and ice pack. “This is for your ankle. I noticed it’s swelling. The paramedics said to ice it thirty minutes, then off thirty minutes and repeat. And drink lots of water. That fixed me right up.”
“I’m trying. And thanks.” Tabitha leaned forward reaching for the aspirin. And despite his chipper speech, she could see that his attitude had changed since their return to the inn. He looked tired and worn down. And he most definitely did not enjoy all the attention he was getting.
“You look better,” he remarked, his smile strained.
“Yes. I’m starting to calm down.” She swallowed the aspirin with a quick gulp of ice water then pushed the glass back to its position on the table. “Rory, I know it’s none of my business but…” She hesitated, not sure if she should mention anything so personal. After all he’d done for her, she felt she had to say something. “Well, I heard about your father. I’m so sorry.”
His eyes connected fast with hers. A little moisture appeared in them as he nodded. “Yep. It was a tough battle with cancer. That’s what all the fuss is about. Everyone loved my pop.” He turned away and looked out over the mountains.
“You must miss him.”
“Terribly. This has been a hard week, coming home again.”
“So, you don’t live here anymore? You live in Arlington?”
“Alexandria.” He looked back with a big grin, pleased at the subtle change in subjects. “Obviously, you heard all sorts of things sitting here.”
“I did.” She returned the smile.
He leaned close and whispered, “Well, just a warning. Things have a way of getting exaggerated around here.”
“Exaggerated? You mean your grandmother doesn’t run Hendersonville? And you’re not the town’s greatest athlete?”
Rory laughed heartily. The wide smile and the deep rich sounds of his voice warmed her. “You know, Gram may actually run the town. At least, she thinks she does. But the other? That’s a new one.”
“Hmm. I also heard that you’re some kind of special cop which confused me since you told me you were a marine.”
“Former marine. Now, I’m a federal agent. I work for NCIS.”
“N-C-I—what?” Apparently, she was supposed to recognize the acronym.
“Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Like the TV show?”
She shrugged and turned her palms up.
“We’re an organization like the FBI but run by the navy. My unit conducts terrorist-related investigations. We also investigate serious crimes committed by or against navy personnel.”
“So I guess what happened today was nothing for you?”
“I don’t know about that. I don’t usually run unarmed in front of a man with a gun pointed at me.”
“Well, I’m glad you did,” she commented.
“Me, too.”
Tabitha locked eyes with him and felt her heart rate increase to some anaerobic rhythm. Oh, dear. Was she blushing? She fumbled for something to say. Anything. “So, if you’re not a marine anymore, why the haircut?”
“Oh.” He chuckled then leaned forward running a hand across the fresh buzz. “I don’t usually—my grandmother likes it like this.”
“Nice.” Tabitha didn’t stop her grin. It wasn’t every day she met a bona fide tough guy willing to shave his head for his grandmother. “So, did the cops find those men on the mountain?”
“No. They’re probably long gone. But the detectives will be here any minute and we can give them good descriptions.”
She pressed away from the table. “In that case, I’m going to change.”
“I don’t think so.” He grabbed her wrist. His eyes shifted toward the colonial-style inn with its multistepped entrance then looked at her bad ankle. “I’ll go. Tell me what to get.”
Tabitha took in a sharp breath, acutely aware of his touch. And it annoyed her that he was right about the ankle. She was in no shape to hop all the way to her room. She exhaled, showing her agitation.
“I’m just trying to help,” Rory explained.
“I know.” She dropped her head, pushed the loose wisps of hair from her face and smiled. “I left the key at the front desk. Will they give it to you?”
“Yep. I know the manager.” He winked.
“You know everyone,” she teased.
“The benefit of growing up in a small town. So, tell me what you need.”
Tabitha sighed and gave into his offer. “Well, on the bed you’ll find my warm-up pants and a pink Nike T-shirt. And if you could, grab my cell phone, too. It’s on the dresser.”
“Pants, shirt, phone. Got it.” Rory’s kind smile flooded her with an unexpected rush. He moved beside her, his eyes fixed on her bad ankle which he lifted and placed on the chair where he’d been sitting. He put the ice pack over the sore joint and gave her hand a little squeeze. “Be right back.”
As he disappeared into the inn, she stared after him wondering what had just happened. Her fingers tingled where he’d touched them and her heart fluttered in an unsteady pattern. She hadn’t had that reaction to a man in years. Had to be her overwrought nerves. Prayer could fix that.
Lord, my head is clouded. Please be with me. The Lord is my rock, in whom I take refuge…
The psalm brought Tabitha some comfort until she noticed two men in suits talking to one of the police officers assigned to the event. The detectives. She drew in a sharp breath as her thoughts went back to the attack.
She shut her eyes and tried to remember the details of the morning. What had the men looked like? What had they said to her? They had wanted something. Something Max had given her? But what could her brother have given her that these men would be willing to kill for?
Rory funneled his way through the hordes of people between the lunch tent and the inn. His mind swirled in a confusion of excitement and concern. Nothing like this had ever happened at a triathlon. Even as a federal agent, he’d only dealt with one case of abduction—enough to know they didn’t always end well.
God, thank You for using me to help Tabitha.
A prayer?
Yep. He’d said a prayer and it had flowed out of him quite naturally.
Was anyone listening?
That he didn’t know anymore. No one had listened when he’d begged for his father’s recovery.
Lifting a hand to his temple, he mounted the narrow set of whitewashed stairs. His headache had