“We’re out for a walk not a run. Jenna needed to stretch her muscles. Besides, I’m pretty certain I would have had to tie her up to stop her.”
“Hmm, that has possibilities.” Saxon gave her a dark look that made her shiver.
“We need to go,” Curt said, tugging at her hand.
She gave him an exasperated look but nodded.
Saxon took her other hand, giving it a squeeze. “If you need any help, Jenna, you know where I am.”
“Thanks,” she told him. He nodded and ran off.
“I don’t trust that guy.”
“You don’t trust anyone,” she told him dryly. “Saxon’s a good guy.” A bit scary, especially when he was in the dungeon.
“Who name’s a club after themselves?”
“Really? That’s the reason you don’t like him?”
“He’s too possessive of you. I know you don’t understand what sort of man he is, but I do. You should stay away from him.”
“Like you said earlier, Curt. You’re not my big brother. Butt out. I’m making pancakes for breakfast. If you want any, I suggest you stop trying to run my life and remain quiet for the rest of our walk, okay?”
***
Her appetite quickly disappeared as she watched the end of the news story about her father’s arrest.
“They make him sound guilty.”
She looked over at Curt then Travis as they sat around her small dining table eating pancakes. The dining area and den were one long, narrow room. She’d turned the television on so they could see it from the table.
She stood and grabbed her half-full plate, chucking the remains in the garbage can. How could this be happening? This was crazy.
There was silence from the table, then Travis cleared his throat. “The news always sensationalizes things, you know that.”
She nodded. Curt was silent.
“Curt, you got anything to add?” Travis prompted.
She looked over at him. She could really use a few positive words from him right now. She needed to hear that everything was going to be okay. That her dad hadn’t done this. That he hadn’t put her in danger. That he hadn’t sold weapons to terrorist groups.
“I’m going to work with you today.”
Not quite the pep talk she’d been hoping for. “What?”
“That wasn’t exactly what I meant,” Travis said dryly. “Any more pancakes?”
He’d already had two helpings.
“Sure, I’ll get you some.”
“He can get his own,” Curt said with a scowl. “And he can do the dishes since you’re going to work.”
“Curt, you have the worst manners. That’s no way to speak to a guest.”
Travis winked at her. “That’s okay, honey. For breakfast like this each day I’ll happily do whatever chores need doing.”
She smiled at him then turned to Curt. “You can’t come into the exam room with me. My patients expect privacy. And confidentiality.”