Darkness Unknown (5 page)

Jarvis took another cookie. “It's going to get worse for him, Gwen. The aggression, the need to fight.”

“You don't know that.”

He reached across the table to put his warm hand on her arm. “Yeah, I do. How about if I talk to him myself? If he's not interested, fine. But I know how it is for a boy like Chase. He reminds me a lot of me.”

She looked at him levelly. “And who
are
you, Jarvis? You've never explained how you came to be in my woods, much less who left you in that condition.”

“No. I haven't because I can't.” His mouth was a hard slash and his dark eyes turned chilly.

“Can't or won't?” She finished the beans and set them aside, wishing she had something else to do.

“Both, actually, but I won't let anything hurt you or Chase.”

She believed him; maybe even trusted him, although she wasn't sure she should. “He'll be home in an hour. If you're willing to take potluck, why don't you stay for dinner? That'll give him a chance
to get to know you. Once we see how that goes, we can broach the subject to him.”

“I'd be a fool to turn down more of your cooking.” He snagged the last cookie and ate it.

Wasn't there an old saying that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach? Not that she was interested in his heart. But just in case, she'd bring out more cookies.

 

Gwen was antsy. Every few seconds, she'd look at the clock and then out the window. Jarvis pretended not to notice, but Chase was forty-five minutes late and that definitely worried his big sister. Maybe he could distract her. He walked over to where Gwen stood watching out the window.

“Can I do something to help? Maybe set the table?”

She jumped about a foot. “What?”

He hid the urge to smile. “I didn't mean to scare you. I just asked if I could help you set the table.”

She blinked a couple of times, pulling her attention back to him. “I can do it.”

He didn't argue, figuring she needed something to keep her mind occupied. He added ice cubes to the glasses and then filled them with tea. After Gwen got out plates and silverware, he took them from her hands and set them on the table.

“Napkins?”

She pointed toward the paper towel roll on the counter. “We use those.”

Now he was out of ideas, and she was back to worrying. He eased up next to her, trying not to startle her again.

“If something was wrong, wouldn't the farmer he's working for have called?”

“You'd think so. If my brother doesn't show up in the next ten minutes, I'll give Mr. James a ring. Chase hates it when I hover.”

Jarvis fought the temptation to wrap his arms around her, though he wanted nothing more than to offer her the comfort of his touch. He hated seeing her look so alone and frazzled. How many nights had she stood at that same window and worried about her brother?

Probably too many.

Then he heard something. It was too distant for normal human hearing to pick up, but a car or pickup was slowing down near the turnoff to the driveway. He waited until he was sure before saying anything.

“He's home.”

“How do you know?” The relief in her eyes was painful to watch.

Before he could explain, the truck rolled into sight. She quickly hurried away from the window and started hauling food out of the refrigerator. She probably didn't want her brother to see her watching for him.

Chase parked the truck near the barn and made a beeline for Jarvis's car. He walked all around it, bending to check it out from all different angles. When he'd completed the circuit, he headed straight for the house.

Charging into the kitchen, he hollered, “Hey, Sis, whose car is that? It's totally sick!”

Then he spotted Jarvis and stopped, looking a bit flustered. “Must be yours.”

“It is.” Jarvis leaned against the counter and crossed his feet at the ankles. Recognizing a male in throes of serious car envy, he waited for the barrage of questions.

“What year is it? I bet it has an engine that really rips down these country roads. Can I have a ride in it?”

“It's a '69 Chevelle SS. She corners like a dream, and has a monster of an engine that eats these twisting roads for lunch. And yes, you can.” He glanced toward Gwen. “If your sister says it's okay, I might even let you drive it sometime.”

Gwen grinned. “Let's eat before he questions you to death. After dinner, we can all go out and ooh and aah over the car. Chase, get washed up. You're late enough as it is.”

“My bad. We only had a little more hay to mow, so we finished it up.”

Jarvis straightened up. “You should've called.
Your sister doesn't want you to know, but she worries. That's not fair to her.”

Gwen started to object, but he cut her off with a quick shake of the head. “Do you understand, Chase?”

The boy, almost a man, met Jarvis's gaze for a second or two before looking at his sister. “Sorry, Gwen. Guess I wasn't thinking.”

“Try to next time, Chase. Now go on, so we can all eat.”

When he left the room, she turned on Jarvis. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Donahue, but he's my responsibility.”

“True, but he's almost eighteen years old, and it's time he starts taking responsibility for his actions. If he doesn't, it will only make it harder for him down the road. If you want him to act like a man, treat him like one.”

He softened his words with a smile. “And he's going to need to take orders from me as his martial arts instructor.”

“We haven't agreed to the lessons.”

“No, but eventually you'll have to. He needs the control they'll give him.”

And the Regents needed a new Paladin. Once the boy knew what he was and understood what it meant, the two of them would figure out how much to tell Gwen. As little as possible, if it were up to
Jarvis. She'd been more of a mother than a sister to Chase, and she would fight to keep him from picking up a sword, even in defense of the world.

Not only that, she would see Jarvis as the enemy—and he'd hate that a hell of a lot.

J
ordan, one of Chase's friends, stopped by after dinner. All three males abandoned Gwen while they examined Jarvis's car from stem to stern and back again. She'd already learned more than she'd ever wanted to about rebuilding a classic car. It was fun, though, watching Chase repeat word for word everything Jarvis had told him earlier.

It was obvious that Jarvis might be good for Chase. How had she missed realizing how grown-up her brother had become? It seemed like only yesterday that he was a skinny little kid running all over the farm with Dozer at his heels. Now the dog had grown gray around his muzzle, and Chase had to shave twice a day if he had plans for the evening.

Jarvis separated himself from the boys and wandered back toward Gwen. Chase wasn't the only one with a serious case of hero worship. Dozer and
Larry were tripping over each other as they vied for Jarvis's attention. He stopped to give each of them a thorough ear scratch before joining her on the porch.

“I told the boys I'd take them for a quick spin, if that's all right with you.”

“Sure, but you'll be creating a monster, you know.” She forced her gaze away from Jarvis and back to his car. “I can see it all now. Chase will lord it over his other friends, and you'll spend the rest of the summer chauffeuring a bunch of high school boys all over the county.”

The look on Jarvis's face was priceless. Obviously his experience with teenage boys was limited. She decided to show mercy. “Don't sweat it, big guy. Chase doesn't have that many friends, and you can always charge them for gas.”

He laughed. “I might, at that. I love my car, but not as much as she loves gas stations.” He leaned against the porch rail. “I'll give them a few more minutes to drool over her engine and then give them their thrill for the evening.”

“Hey, Jarvis, come here for a minute.” Chase's voice was muffled because his head was under the hood.

Jarvis left with a wry grin. “I'll be back.”

She tried to keep her eyes on her book, she really did. But it was a losing battle, especially when Jarvis leaned over to point out some bit of engine
lore to the two boys. The way that man filled out those jeans ought to come with a warning label—“Caution: Not responsible for hormones raging out of control!”

Unfortunately, he glanced back in her direction and caught her staring. If she hadn't immediately blushed, he might have thought she was keeping an eye on the two boys. There was definitely a knowing twinkle in his eyes when he looked away.

Lord, she hadn't been caught admiring a man's butt since she was Chase's age. An adult woman should have more control.

She went inside, leaving the three males to enjoy the heady fumes of gasoline, oil, and testosterone. If any of them noticed her absence, they gave no sign of it. As she folded a load of towels, she tried to convince herself that was a good thing. After all, Jarvis was here for Chase.

 

It was all Jarvis could do not to hand Chase the keys to the Chevelle and tell him he could have the car for an hour or two. But he had no right to be thinking the kind of thoughts he was having about Gwen Mosely. She was sweet, good, and far more innocent than a woman her age should be.

Most women, even those who claimed to be only looking for a good time, wanted a man who could be depended on to show up when he said he
would. Over the years, with the instability of the barrier in this region, he'd broken far more promises than he'd ever kept. Then there was the little problem that he hadn't aged perceptibly since his early thirties. No matter how dim the light in any bar, a woman was bound to notice eventually.

He hated always lying, and after a while all those lies ran together, making it impossible to keep the excuses straight. He'd been called away on a family crisis; his car had broken down; his company had sent him out of town on business. But if women had a hard time believing the lies, they'd never buy the truth.

Sorry, honey, I was too dead to pick up the phone and call. Or, I couldn't get the bloodstains out of my jeans and didn't want to gross you out.

But Gwen was different in one important way. She already knew part of his truth and wasn't bothered by it, even if only because he could answer her questions about Chase. Too bad he could tell the whole truth only to Chase, while teaching him to lie to everybody, including his sister. Damn, he hated this.

The time for admiring his car was over. He needed the rush of the big engine screaming down the road, running from everything but the sweet feel of the Chevelle eating up the miles.

“Come on, boys, let's see what she'll do.”

Jordan climbed into the backseat and buckled
in while Chase took the place of honor, riding shotgun. Jarvis carefully maneuvered around the worst of the ruts in the driveway and pulled out onto the deserted two-lane road.

“Hold on!” he warned the boys as he floored the gas pedal, going from zero to sixty in a handful of seconds.

Chase and Jordan screamed out their approval as Jarvis put her through her paces, showing off for the hell of it. It would give the two boys bragging rights with their friends, and make Chase want to spend more time in Jarvis's company.

Which was, after all, the whole purpose for this visit. The fact that he'd rather have Gwen next to him as he tore through the twisting turns was something he couldn't afford to think about.

 

Gwen managed to keep herself busy without much trouble. The chores were never done on a farm, even one as small as theirs. There were weeds to pull, animals to feed, and dust bunnies to be hunted down and caught. An hour after the sound of the Chevelle's engine faded away, she was still at it, dragging the last of the little critters out from under the bed in the guest room. Some of them deserved a place in the Dust Bunny Hall of Fame.

The distant sound of a powerful engine caught her attention, and she hustled back to the kitchen to stow the cleaning supplies, then dashed for the
bathroom to make sure she didn't have dirt on her nose and that her braid was still tidy.

Not that she was trying to impress anybody. Absolutely not. She just didn't want to embarrass her brother in front of his friends. She walked out to the porch and down the steps as her brother climbed out of the passenger door with a wide grin on his face.

“Aw, Sis, you have
got
to go for a ride in this baby!” He trailed his fingers along the long curve of the quarter panel, careful not to scratch it. “It was amazing!”

“I'm glad you had a good time, Chase.” She looked past him to Jordan. “Hey, kiddo, your mom phoned wondering where you were. I told her you'd call as soon as you got back.”

“Thanks, Gwen.” Jordan charged past her into the house.

“Chase, you go with him after you thank Jarvis.”

“Yeah, Jarvis, that was cool! Thanks for taking us.” For once her brother's gratitude sounded sincere instead of just good manners.

Leaving the engine running, Jarvis got out of the car and came a few steps toward her.

“He's right, you know.” He stuck his hands in his hip pockets and gave her a slow smile that was all temptation. “You really do need to go for a ride with me.”

And why did the way he said that make her
think he meant far more than a quick spin down the road? Her heart fluttered. “Haven't you had enough of the Mosely clan for one day?”

“Maybe one of them, but not nearly enough of the other.” He came closer, causing her to back up a step before she decided to hold her ground.

“I've got a strong hankering,” he said, coming a half step closer and lowering his voice, “for a banana split with all the toppings. But ice cream isn't much fun for one person.”

Lord, he'd tempt a nun. And she definitely wasn't a nun.

She grinned. “Let's go!”

He snagged her hand and pulled her toward the car.

“Wait, I need to tell Chase that I'm leaving.”

Jarvis opened the passenger door and tucked her inside before she could protest. “I'll tell him.”

He loped over to the front door and yelled in, “Hey, Chase, I'll bring your sister back eventually.”

Then the two of them were flying down the highway, with a classic rock station blasting on the radio. The heady combination of loud music and speed filled her senses, leaving no room for second thoughts or doubts. Gwen leaned back and let the powerful car and its handsome owner carry her away.

 

What was Gwen thinking about? Definitely something good, judging by the soft smile and dreamy look in her eyes. Jarvis had taken the long way to the small drive-in restaurant where there was a banana split waiting with his name on it. As content as she looked, he almost hated to stop.

But he'd promised her ice cream, and he wanted her to trust him on the small things so she'd think he was a man of his word. That way, when he did need to lie to her, she might not notice as fast. She'd eventually find out, which was a damn shame, but he knew that Gwen wasn't going to like his real motive for mentoring her brother. Until that moment arrived, though, he was going to enjoy cruising the Ozark highways with a beautiful woman.

As they crested the next hill, he spotted the giant rotating ice cream cone ahead on the left. He slowed down and eased the Chevelle into the gravel parking lot, wincing when he hit a chuckhole.

Gwen giggled. “If you keep driving on gravel, you're going to need a new paint job.”

“Yeah, this beauty is always wanting something. Last month it was a new exhaust system.” He shook his head in mock disgust as he parked. “She's always had expensive tastes.”

Gwen arched an eyebrow. “So I take it that the two of you have been an item for a long time?”

He patted the steering wheel. “We've been
through an engine rebuild, a new interior, and a couple of paint jobs. Nothing is too good for my girl.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“Some things are worth it.” He raised his eyebrows in mock horror. “I actually had a friend who suggested I could have owned two or three boring beige sedans for what I have tied up in her. What fun is that? Besides, if I bought another car, it would hurt her feelings.”

“I can see how that could happen.” Gwen's green eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Now, about that ice cream. What do you say we eat at one of the picnic tables? There's a nice breeze, now that the sun's going down.”

“Sounds good.” She opened the door and walked around to meet him at the front of the car. “Besides, I'd live in terror of dripping chocolate on the upholstery and having to walk back home.”

“I'd never make you walk.” He put his hand on the small of her back as they walked up to the window to order, and liked that she didn't pull away. “Of course, you'd have to ride home in the trunk.”

She gave him an arch look. “Just try it and see if I invite you for dinner again.”

“We can't have that, can we?” So she was already thinking ahead to the next time—good.

The clerk came to the window. “Can I take your order?”

“I'll have a banana split with all the works. What sounds good to you, Gwen?”

He watched her nibble on her lower lip as she considered the options, and the small gesture had him wanting to kiss her.

“I'll have a chocolate cone—two scoops, please.”

When they had their ice cream, Gwen led the way to the rustic picnic tables. The small voice of his conscience warned Jarvis that sitting across from her might be the safer choice, but he ignored it and slid in beside her. She stiffened briefly, but relaxed when he stopped short of touching her.

“This will hit the spot.” He spooned up a big bite of the ice cream and savored it.

Gwen eyed the three scoops and piles of toppings in his bowl. “If I ate something that big, I'd have to run all the way home to burn off the calories.” She shook her head sadly. “It's not fair that both you and Chase can eat like that without gaining an ounce.”

“I hear it catches up with men later.”

Purely human men, anyway. Part of the Paladin package was a higher metabolic rate, but few of them lived long enough to see if that would eventually change. The oldest known Paladin was Devlin Bane in Seattle, and he still looked to be in his late thirties.

“So one of these days, you're going to be walking along and all those calories are going to blow you up like a balloon? Now that's something I'd pay
to watch.” She held her cone close to her mouth and her tongue darted out to catch a drip.

The sudden tightness in the fit of his jeans had nothing to do with the ice cream, and everything to do with watching her lick her cone with such sensuous pleasure. Right then, he'd give almost anything to be a double scoop of chocolate.

She nodded toward his bowl. “Your ice cream is melting.”

“I'll have to eat faster.”

Maybe that would keep him focused on something other than the growing urge to kiss her. From the way she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, she still felt skittish around him. But damn, there went that tongue again. It was definitely time to steer the conversation to a safer topic.

“So I've been meaning to ask about those beasties in the pasture out behind your barn. They look a little small for llamas.”

“That's because they're not llamas. They're alpacas. I'm a breeder. We sell the offspring, and keep the rest for their fiber. I usually get enough of that to sell to people who spin their own yarn, although I keep a fair amount for my own use. Thanks to the Internet, I've built up a steady clientele for my yarn and for what I weave and knit.”

“How long have you been doing that?”

She scrunched up her nose as she thought. “Must be close to seven years now. My mom left
enough insurance to pay off the farm, but it never was a moneymaking proposition. I was away at school when she died, and came home to take care of Chase.”