Her Secret Protector

“There,” he said. “Feel better now?”

She scowled at him. “Maybe. I’ll have to do it a few more times to be sure.”

“I’m really sorry, Carrie. It wasn’t all a secret. Exactly.”

“That’s where you’re exactly wrong,” she said. “It was. You had a huge secret and while you knew the worst about me, you kept me in the dark. And I don’t know why I’m upset. It’s not like…”

He knew what she meant. It’s not like they were dating.

She walked away from him, dragging a collapsible tunnel behind her. He’d made her feel like a fool, he realized. That’s what had her most upset.

She’d done nothing but be honest with him, try to help him, stand up for both of them and what had he done? Let her down, again and again.

“I’m going to check on the dogs,” he called.

“Fine. Whatever.”

At her suggestion, he’d brought Dixie and the puppies along for the day, installing the group in an exercise pen in the shade, next to Gun, who instead of being upset at being benched, seemed to consider the mom and puppies his own personal responsibility to watch over.

Gun had grown to adore Carrie as well, and she appeared to return the sentiment. His dark gaze followed her actions as she moved back and forth setting up equipment to Ethan’s specifications, his tail thumping whenever she glanced at him.

At least she wasn’t mad at the dogs.

“Gunny,” she said, bending down and fondling his ears. The big animal lay back and exposed his belly, his tongue hanging out. Fool-headed worship.

Ethan knew the feeling.

“Thanks,” he said. “For helping. For suggesting this in the first place.”

“You should get started.” Carrie ignored him and picked up her camera. “Where do you want me?”

Anywhere, anytime.

But first, he had to find a way back into her good graces.

An audience was starting to gather.

He directed her to a spot beside the chute. “Sit there. Straighten it out after it’s been used so no one gets tangled up in it.”

“Roger that.”

To his surprise, Amanda Frankel was there with her son. The kid was pulling on her arm and from the distance, he could tell she was arguing. But they joined the growing crowd, sitting at the farthest edge.

Carrie snapped a few quick photos, a complete professional, nothing of their personal clash evident. She’d been officially fired, he remembered, but that wasn’t stopping her from taking her own shots.

She wasn’t a quitter, he thought with admiration. She was here, participating, throwing her whole self into the festival because that’s who she was. Despite being hurt and mad at him, she was here with him. Maybe she didn’t believe he’d really follow through.

Or maybe, she believed in him. Maybe she wanted him to succeed.

Ethan would never have done this if not for Carrie and suddenly he was glad.

In the park, a group of boys were playing pick-up football, their laughter floating over the summer air, mixing with the chatter of voices around them. Ethan took a moment to let it soak in. He was at a summer festival. He was participating.

He was about to display to people something that he was most proud of. Not his cryptography; he’d had plenty of accolades for that, but corporate recognition, government gratitude none of it meant anything, compared to the possibility of being part of something, being involved in a community where his actions affected people. Where, if he didn’t show up, someone might notice.

He could feel it, so close. Like a word on the tip of his tongue that he’d be able to remember, if only he tried hard enough and waited long enough.

And Carrie was the key.

“Come on, Bluebeard,” she called. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

A slight smile lifted her lips and courage rushed into him with it. Maybe it didn’t matter how the demonstration went. Maybe nothing else mattered but that smile.

Snap.

He jerked his head.

“Did you just take my picture?”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself.” Her grin went through him like a lance. “If I did, it was an accident. I’m just getting some nice candid shots. People at ease, enjoying the fair.”