Saving Jenna Page 2

  It didn’t take no more than ten minutes for the waitress to return to his table with his order. With the pancakes stacked high on the tray she brought out, it looked like they were feeding an army. He wasn’t all that hungry, but it would be a long day on that roof and he didn’t know if he would take time to eat throughout the day or not. That was yet to be determined.

  "Here's maple syrup for your pancakes, and grape jelly for your toast in case you want some," she said, setting down all the condiments in front of him. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

  Already digging into the food on his plate, he said, "Nope, I think I'm good. Thank you."

  Before leaving him be, she pointed to his empty mug and offered to come back with a refill. Sliding the fried egg onto his toast, he took a bite and couldn’t help feeling guilty with the dog's eyes on him. If he could, he'd provide some kind of signal to let the dog know he would be out in a bit.

  "Can I get a to-go box, please?" he asked when the waitress refilled his coffee.

  With a raised eyebrow, she pointed at his plate. "But you've barely touched any of your food."

  Hiking a thumb in the direction of his truck, he said, "I'm putting some aside for that guy."

  That cheered the waitress up as she smiled and promised to be right back. In the time that she was gone, he managed to inhale the rest of his eggs and toast and a few slices of bacon. He'd save the rest for the dog he was sure would be tagging along back to the rental house for the day.

  Sliding his credit card out of his wallet, he handed it to the woman at the register and made sure she added a decent tip to the bill. Making his way to the door, holding the box and his coffee, he promised to stop in again soon—tomorrow morning, in fact.

  On his way out, he caught a glimpse of a brunette standing behind the coffee pots. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could have sworn she looked familiar. Pushing open the door, refusing to take another look behind him and wasting another minute, he met up with the dog and climbed into his truck. Opening the container and leaving it on the seat between them, he took one last look into the diner and turned the key in the ignition. The truck grumbled to life as the dog woofed down the remains of Ian's breakfast.

  There had been something about that woman that had caught his attention. Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn’t figure it out. A quick glimpse hadn't given him much but the color of her hair. It could have been anyone.

  Without wasting another minute, he backed out and headed back to the place he would call home for the next two weeks. He would figure out what to do with the dog and his help once he got there. If he was lucky, maybe Todd would be there when he got back. And if he was even luckier yet, Todd would know who this dog belonged to. Hopefully Todd would offer something more promising than just the town stray everyone took care of, when that was far from the truth and he knew it.

  Chapter 2

  Jenna had not seen or heard from Ian for two years, but she could have sworn that was him who had just left the diner. She had not heard he was back in town, so maybe it was someone who resembled him with closely matched features.

  The man's eyes had only taken a second's glance in her direction. Had their eyes met? She couldn’t remember. His glance had happened so fast, because he seemed to be in a hurry. Wherever he was heading to, he had downed plenty of coffee for the day. She hadn't been watching him, but she had noticed how many times Cat had gone over to refill his cup and not forgetting the traveler’s mug she had sent out the door with him.

  The fact that West Grove was a small town and she hadn't heard anything didn’t necessarily mean it wasn't Ian Riley. He could have made it to town late last night and gone unnoticed. It was just after the sunrise, so she doubted any of the townsfolk had actually noticed there was a new man in town.

  Even if it was him, which she heavily doubted, she couldn’t, nor wanted to, go back down that heartbroken path, even if repairs could be made. Besides, she had her own life now, even if it wasn't what she truly wanted. But as the old saying goes, you make your bed, you have to sleep in it.

  Makeup wouldn’t always be able to cover up the damage done by the man she had believed, or had wanted to believe, was the best thing that ever happened to her. The man who had swooped in when Ian had left town, causing her to forget and move on...almost.

  Engaged and in love at one time with this man had turned into engaged and trapped in a web of his anger and empty promises. The never-ending cycle she so badly would escape if she knew where to go, or if she had someone to go to—someone who would protect her and make sure nothing bad could ever happen to her again. Since that was farfetched, Jenna had to fake it to make it. Fake smiles donned on to make others believe she had it all. Hell, some were jealous of her. If only they knew.

  She needed someone to save her. Not just from him, but from herself.

  "What are you thinking about over here? Standing there with your pretty self?" Cat's question startled her, nearly causing her to drop the coffee pot on the counter. "Sorry, darlin', I didn’t mean to make ya jump."

  She had worked here albeit six months and she still wasn’t used to the randomness that was Cat. That woman snuck up on people when they least expected it. Couldn’t even hear her coming, which meant she lived up to her nickname. Even though the woman had chosen the name Cat for herself instead of her real name Cathryn, it still made no difference and suited her just fine.

  "Sorry, I was..."

  "No need to apologize, sweets," Cat said, waving it off like it was no big deal. "I need to learn to make my presence known before I say anything. Maybe if I were to enter an area clapping my hands, or making some other kind of noise, people wouldn’t startle so easily."

  The thought of telling Cat her plan wouldn’t work passed through Jenna's mind as she hesitated with one of her all-time fake smiles. There was nothing Cat, or anyone for that matter, could do that would make Jenna less jumpy. She was always on edge, always walking on egg shells, always ready for the other shoe to drop. No matter where she was or what she was doing, it was always the same feeling day in and day out.

  "You've been standing there this whole time and you haven't said more than a few words. What's going on? You sick or something?" Cat poured herself a refill into her Be Quiet, I Haven't Had My Coffee Yet mug. "Did you happen to get a look at that boy who was just in here?"

  Playing dumb, she shook her head. There was no telling what would happen if John got wind of her looking at other guys. Even though she worked in a diner and all of the locals came in on a regular basis, John had already told her that if he so happened to hear of anything involving her and another man, he would do something she would later regret ever crossing paths with him. She didn’t want to tempt him. He was sure to keep his word—the only promise he would ever make sure he kept.

  "Well, he was a looker, that's for sure," Cat said, already making her way to the other end of the counter to ring up another bill. "He looked to be about your age, give or take a few years. I've never seen him around here before."

  Handing Jenna the few dollars in tip money she had made from the last table she waited on, Cat offered for her to take a break. "Why don’t you run along and give yourself a break. Take twenty minutes to yourself. I'll cover the place while you're gone."

  Jenna couldn’t tell her no. Some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. What would hurt, though, was if John found out she left the diner without him knowing. He kept track of her schedule. Even while he was at work, he had told her he had eyes on her. He would know if she went anywhere aside from the places she was allowed to—home and work.

  Chapter 3

  There was no sign of Todd when he pulled into the driveway back at the rental house. The guy was probably still sleeping, passed out drunk on the floor of his living room most likely. Ian figured if the man was serious about keeping his word and helping out with this place, he'd be here soon enough. Ian wasn’t going to worry about it.

  Opening the door, he called for the dog t
o jump out and without another command, he walked to the garage while the dog followed close behind. The dog was too damn smart for his own good, which meant he had to belong to someone. There was no dog on this planet that had manners this good and obeyed without having been told twice.

  Reaching for his tool belt and ladder, Ian watched as the dog found shade under the maple tree and lay down. Whether the dog stayed there all day didn’t bother Ian. He just hoped by sunset, the owner would be making rounds in the neighborhood looking for their pet.

  Leaning the ladder against the house, he climbed each rung with the sun beating on his back. He had missed his window of opportunity at getting an early start on this project thanks to the dog for guarding his exit and to Todd for not being ready when he got there. There was no way he was going to fair well against the heat, but he had to get this roof torn off and shingled. Taking another look in the direction of the shade tree, the dog was now lying on his side, passed out and probably dreaming of dog treats mixed in ice cream. He would kill to be resting in the shade.

  Shaking off the negative thoughts raging through him, he continued on his journey up the ladder until he made it to the roof. For a three-bedroom house, this place would sell on the market anywhere from eighty to a low hundred grand, give or take a few thousand. He couldn’t wait to see the for sale sign in the front yard. Once he was done with fixing it up, he would be putting it on the market and leaving town for good. No looking back. He would be gone and regret nothing.

  Starting at the front side of the house, the area with the most damage, he began by peeling back the tired shingles and tossing them to the ground below. This front side would need the most work and he was willing to bet it wouldn’t take long before those damn kids were back again for another round of breaking shit.

  The anger of the situation plowed him through the first half of the roof. Not even realizing he had peeled off so much in so little time, he decided he would take a quick break. Finding his way back to the ladder, he made his way down to level ground. The dog was still lying under the shade as he walked along the side of the house. As if the dog was waiting for him to give a command, it kept its eyes on Ian as he made his way around the backside of the house to the water spicket. "Come, boy. Come get some water."

  Upon his command, the dog stood and hustled to his side. His black dingy coat swung freely in the air as the wind took hold of it. If Ian had to guess, the dog was a cross breed between a Labrador and possibly a German Shepherd. Hell, he didn’t know, but the damn thing wasn't all that old, maybe a couple years if that, and was smart as heck.

  "I suppose I better find you a bowl or somethin’," he said, once again having a full-on one-sided conversation with the dog as he made his way to the garage in search of a plastic container. "And might as well give you a name while I'm at it, too."

  The dog's head tilted in curiosity as it sat patiently, waiting for Ian to return back to the spicket. Grabbing an old butter dish out of a dirty recycle bin, Ian made his way back to the dog. Needing to wash the bowl out, he bent over and gave the handle a twist. Rust-colored water spurted out of the spicket and the dog gave him a look like he had lost his mind, making him wonder if the dog knew better than to drink the water. "We'll let that run a good minute or two, boy."

  Scratching the dog behind the ears, he patted his leg when he sat down, offering the dog to come closer and sit near him. The dog obliged as it hovered over his lap and sat back, allowing his haunches to land in Ian's lap. "Easy, boy," Ian said, patting the dog on the neck. He had been thinking of a good name for the dog, or at least one that would fit him temporarily while he was here. Ian had a few dogs growing up, and even a couple overseas before he was medically discharged from the Army a few years after he had been deployed to Iraq. "How about G2? You like that name?"

  As if the dog understood him, he stretched his neck up and licked Ian's face. Sure, G2 wasn’t a common name for most dogs these days, but for him, it meant something more. It held a special meaning, a remembrance so to speak, for the sniffer dog he had lost in Iraq when an IED detonated on one of their last high-priority missions together. Gunner had been a helluva dog and he would never forget the time he had spent by his side in the final moments of his life.

  Standing and brushing the grass clippings and dirt off the back of his pants, Ian decided he had spent enough time reminiscing over sour memories and had let the water run long enough to get the rust out of its system.

  The dog followed him over to the water and sat down, waiting patiently for Ian to follow through with filling the bowl. Ian cupped his hands under the running water in an attempt to drink enough to satisfy his thirst, but also making sure it was safe enough for the dog to drink. Ha, it seemed ridiculous that he cared more about the safety of the animal than that of his own. Oh well, that was the story of his life. He cared more about others and had continued to put them before him. Nothing would ever change that about him.

  The sound of crunching gravel alerted him that someone was walking up the driveway in his direction. The stray dog, who had been lapping up enough water for the both of them, had his ears pinned back and was standing in full alert. Shutting the water off, Ian stood and walked to the edge of the house, taking a peek to see who the visitor was.

  "Well, if it isn't the man of the hour," he called out to Todd, who looked refreshed and ready for the day's work. "I'll be damned."

  Todd approached the backside of the house, but was greeted by an angry, teeth bearing G2, who wasn’t about to let him anywhere near Ian. "Would you look at that," Todd said, pointing a finger in the dog's direction. "You've got yourself a guard dog."

  "Yeah, found him on your property this morning when I stopped by to pick you up." Ian didn’t want to rehash the eventful morning he had, so he shrugged and continued on, not allowing Todd to give excuses as to why he wasn’t ready to go when Ian got there. "Actually, he found me. He had his teeth showing and was ready to make me a snack until I got on his level. Now he won't leave my side."

  Ian reached down and scratched behind the dog's ears, making sure to tell him it was okay and to take it easy. "I was hoping you would know who he belonged to. There has to be an owner somewhere looking for him. He's too good of a dog to be without an owner."

  Todd's face scrunched as he ran a hand over the stubble on his face—a day too many had gone by without shaving. "I think I've seen that dog around a time or two, but I can't say who the owner is. Or if he even has an owner." Todd took a step closer to them and held out his hand. G2's hair still stood high on his back as he waited out the man's next move. Todd knelt down, taking Ian's advice, and once G2 realized he was no longer a threat, he made his way over to him and greeted him in the same manner he had greeted Ian.

  Todd had a face full of dog and was laughing at how friendly the dang dog was. Patting him on the top of the head and offering a quick scratch, Todd stood and brushed himself off. "It looks like you've got yourself a good dog there."

  Ian knew the waitress at the diner was probably right, but there was a part of him that didn’t want the dog hanging around. He didn’t want the extra mouth to feed. Nor another thing to look after. "Well, hopefully within a few days, he's missed and his owners will come to take him back home."

  As though Todd knew that was as farfetched as it had sounded to Ian's own ears, he gave a chuckle and offered to get on with helping Ian tear off the roof and get it shingled once again. "It looks like you've made quite the progress this morning," he called out on his way up the ladder.

  Ian held the ladder steady, keeping an eye on the man as he slowly made his way onto the roof. The last thing Ian needed was for the man to fall and all hell to break loose.

  "Sorry I didn’t make it up this mornin’."

  Once the ladder was clear, Ian climbed up. "You missed one helluva breakfast. And the coffee there was just how I always remembered it. The taste of bitterness and a shot of energy all within that very first drink."

  He had been pissed this m
orning when he had shown up at Todd's and had been stood up by the guy, but after catching a glimpse of that brunette standing behind the coffee pots, looking a lot like Jenna Avery, being mad at Todd for being too intoxicated to be up had been trumped. It all seemed petty anyways. There was nothing around here that Ian couldn’t do by himself, even if it would take him all damn day and all of his two weeks.

  "Well, I'll be here the rest of the week for ya," Todd said, peeling back another layer of shingles and tossing them over the side of the house. "I drank too much yesterday. Probably should’ve called it an early night instead of drinking so damn much, but you know how it is. Ice-cold drinks taste good in the summer heat."

  Ian couldn’t disagree there. The guy had a point. The trouble with alcohol tasting good and going down smooth was that it either kicked your ass in the heat or it made you look like a damn fool when things were all said and done. He had consumed enough for the both of them and then some back a few years ago. It had led to leaving Jenna and joining the Army.

  "You going for breakfast again in the morning?" Todd's question pulled Ian from his thoughts.

  Not able to recall what Todd had asked, Ian offered a slight grin. "I think this heat’s starting to kick my ass. What'd you ask me?"

  Todd shook his head and ripped off two more shingles, the tar stretching the distance between the roof and Todd before it snapped and allowed him to toss the worn shingles to the ground below. "I asked if you were hitting up the diner again tomorrow."

  "Thought about it." Ian wasn’t lying. He had thought about venturing over that way every morning he was here. Why not? The food was good and the coffee was satisfying. He enjoyed taking in the atmosphere of West Grove. Hell, if he was being honest, he kind of missed it around these parts.

  "Well, pick me up on your way over there," Todd called out from the other side, only the top of his head visible to Ian.