“You’re right on all counts. But you do have advantages over me.”
“Such as?” I managed to stand my ground as he came closer.
“When someone bigger than you poses a threat, you want to attack him from below. Your size will make that easier. Like this.” Grasping my shoulder, he crouched a bit and jabbed four fingers straight at my throat. I braced for the blow, but he stopped an inch or two before contact. “Thrust up and straight into that little hollow below the Adam’s apple. You try.”
I mimicked his actions with some degree of finesse, I thought, until he scowled.
“Don’t be afraid to hit me. You need to swing upward while spearing your hand like a bayonet. Put your strength into it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
A glint of fondness entered his eye, then was gone. “Don’t worry, I’ll live. The important thing is for you to learn how.”
This time when he made a grab for my shoulders, I swung my right hand upward, fingers extended, straight into his throat. He grunted, released me, and stepped sharply back.
“Well done.” He coughed and a rusty groan escaped his lips.
I felt a surge of triumph, tempered by a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Next . . .”
By the time Nanny summoned us for luncheon I’d mastered that and several other techniques. I’d learned how, whether attacked from up front or behind, to lift my foot and shove my heel directly into my assailant’s kneecap. Not an ineffectual kick with my toes, as Derrick termed it, but a blow forceful enough to break the bone and topple a man several times my size.
Rather than slap or punch with my small hands, I learned how to stab my fingers into the soft skin underneath the jaw as well as into a person’s eye, but lest I be accused of blinding Derrick, let it be noted we sacrificed a tomato from the garden for this lesson. I learned a man’s most vulnerable points: the Adam’s apple—any blunt blow should do; the soft dimples behind the ears—I should dig inward with my thumbs; beneath the rib cage—a jab of the elbow there; the nose—an upward thrust with the heel of my hand; and . . . oh, most shocking of all, the juncture of a man’s legs.
I balked at practicing this, insisting the knowledge would be sufficient should I need to utilize the technique. It wasn’t until a laughing Derrick revealed that all along he’d planned to substitute his open palm for his more . . . ah . . . susceptible area . . . that I agreed to slam my knee in an upward assault. He declared my efforts sound as I collapsed in an exhausted heap on the ground, and he beside me.
“Of course, the best plan is simply to stay safe, Emma.”
“No one is ever completely safe,” I reminded him.
In reply he stretched out on his back beside me and stared up at fleecy clouds racing the ocean breeze. I couldn’t resist stretching out on the warm grass beside him. The sun felt heavenly on my cheeks, which heated further when Derrick caught hold of my hand. We remained silent until my thoughts returned to the reason for today’s lessons.
“My cousin isn’t safe,” I said. “But I did promise Jesse I’d let him and his men scour the area around Second Beach for any trace of her.”
Had I mentioned Jesse as a kind of defensive tactic, much like those Derrick had just taught me, in an effort to ward off feelings I simply wasn’t inclined to acknowledge?
His hand stiffened around mine. “If there is anything I can do to help, just let me know.”
I shot up to a sitting position. “Actually, there is. Why didn’t I think of it sooner?” I tugged his hand to pull him up beside me. I reached out to flick bits of grass from his tousled dark hair, until the familiarity of the act had me snatching my hand back to my lap. “Remember how you discovered that Jack Parsons owned that house on the Point? Can you find out who owns the cottages around Second Beach? It might give us a hint as to where Consuelo would be staying.”
“I can try. It’s a lot more to research than a single house, and many of those cottages are probably leased for the summer, so it’ll take that much longer to determine the current residents’ names. But, yes, I’ll do my best.”
It was no small task I’d assigned him. Yet the readiness with which he’d accepted took my breath away and sent me awkwardly to my feet. “It’s all right if you’re too busy. I shouldn’t encroach on your time this way. After all, none of this is your concern.”
“I’m not too busy and I’ve made it my concern.”
At that moment the kitchen door opened and Nanny stuck her head out. “If you two have finished waging your battles, I’ve got a hearty stew and fresh bread on the table.”