Jeannie Watt by A Difficult Woman

Luke talked about Tara, Matt had assumed he’d known her since she was a child.
    “Yeah. But he has been very good to me. He was someone that…I don’t know…I guess I trusted from day one.”
    “That doesn’t happen often for you?”
    “Like never?”
    “Imagine that?” The words came out low and teasing. Tara smirked at him and ping-ponged the subject back to him.
    “Where are you from originally?”
    He leaned back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. “Las Vegas. My mom and stepdad live there.”
    “Your real dad?”
    “He’s dead.”
    “So’s mine,” Tara said, running a finger over the ridges on the side of her glass.
    “Is it just you and Nicky, then? Or do you have more family somewhere else?” Matt purposely shifted the direction of conversation again and wondered if Tara was going to let him get away with it.
    “You’ve been in Night Sky for more than a week. Are you telling me you don’t know my entire history?”
    Matt didn’t try to hedge. “I know your dad went to prison.” He didn’t feel like telling her that his dad probably should have gone to prison, too. Would have, if he hadn’t have been killed in the line of duty.
    “He did. Bank robbery. I was twelve when he was sentenced and eighteen when he died. Pneumonia.”
    “Your mom?”
    “Died when I was ten.”
    “Who raised you and Nicky?”
    “I did, in a way. We lived here with my great-aunt Laura, after my father was arrested.” Tara smiled reminiscently. “She was a bit of a free spirit. She took care of us, but wasn’t exactly…traditional, shall we say?”
    “Your aunt was eccentric?”
    “I prefer to think of it as having unique tastes and skills. See that penguin on top of the refrigerator? She carved it for Nicky when he was little.”
    Matt reached for the brightly painted bird. “I’ve never seen a purple penguin.”
    “It reminds me of her. She was always creating something. Sometimes she would literally forget to go to bed if she was in the middle of a project. She never married, but she had lots of—”
    “Cats,” Matt guessed, still holding the sculpture.
    “Burros and goats. She made cheese and soap from the goat milk and adopted the burros from the Bureau of Land Management whenever she could.”
    That explained the long-eared residents.
    “Buddy and Billie are the only burros left. I sold the goats…. The cats are mine ,” she said darkly. “The place was overrun with mice before I got them.”
    “I didn’t say anything.”
    “Yeah, but I know the cliché.”
    “House cats. Not barn cats.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “And I wouldn’t exactly call you older.
    “Good save.” Tara held out a hand and Matt passed her the penguin. “Well, I’ve really enjoyed this conversation about you .”
    Matt acknowledged her point with a half smile. “Is there anyone who could come and stay with you tonight?”
    Tara frowned. “Not really. I’m feeling a lot better anyhow. I’m sure I can make it through the night on my own.”
    “I saw Somers drive by here today. Slowly.”
    Tara stilled for a moment and then shrugged before carefully placing the penguin on the table in front of her.
    “You don’t have very good locks on your doors and none to speak of on the windows.”
    “Never really needed them.”
    “You may need them now.” He was silent for a moment. “I want to stay one more night, Tara. I’ll install new locks tomorrow.”
    “I don’t need to be protected Matt. I’ll be fine on my own.”
    “Tara—”
    Her expression grew stubborn. “I appreciate all you’ve done, but no more rescues. Okay?”
    “Rescues?” Matt felt a stab of irritation, more from her tone than what she said.
    Tara pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I knew I’d blow this,” she muttered. “Look, no offense, Connors. I want you to keep working here and, frankly, I kind of enjoy your company, but you’ve been my personal white knight lately.”
    “Last night I had to