Page 11

Only by Your Touch Page 11

by Catherine Anderson


“Bobby Lee . . . ,” she tried.

He cut her short. “If you’re lonely and looking for male companionship, why tie up with a loose cannon like him? I know how to treat a lady.”

Chloe couldn’t think how to respond. It was one thing for him to feel attracted to her, and quite another for him to become territorial.

“I have no intention of ‘tying up’ with anyone. I told you that. Right now, all my energies are focused on my little boy, my job, and being a good mother.”

He arched an eyebrow. “So why are you hanging out with Longtree?”

“I’m not hanging out with him. I’m just grateful to him for treating Jeremy’s puppy, and I offered him a cup of coffee to show my appreciation.”

With a sudden flick of his wrist, Bobby Lee sent the Japanese lantern sailing over the edge of her desk. It hit the concrete floor with a deafening pop.

Chloe jumped up from her chair. “Oh, no!”

“I’m sorry. Damn.” Bobby Lee crouched down and began picking up the pieces. “I know it meant a lot to you. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I did that.”

Chloe could have sworn he’d done it on purpose. Fury lashed her.

Gathering up more glass, he said, “I really am sorry, Chloe.”

He could say what he liked, but nothing would convince her it had been an accident. She clenched her teeth to keep from hurling angry accusations. Ker-clunk—ker-clunk. The thick pieces of glass hitting the side of the metal waste can resonated in the silence.

Bobby Lee stepped to the back room and returned with a broom and dustpan. As he swept up the slivers, he said, “It’s a shame it can’t be glued back together.” He leaned over to empty the dustpan into the basket. “Some things can’t be fixed once they’re broken.” He straightened. “It’s like that with people, too. I’d hate to see something bad happen to you or your little boy.”

Before she could respond, he left. She laid a shard of the glass on her desk blotter. It glittered in the light just like Bobby Lee’s eyes. He was angry because she’d seen Ben and had retaliated by breaking something precious to her.

People can’t be glued back together, he’d told her. On the surface, it could have been nothing more than a warning, meant to steer her away from possible trouble, but Chloe sensed an underlying threat that troubled her immensely.

“I’m back!” Sue called as she pushed in the door. When she came to set Chloe’s latte on the desk, she saw the broken glass. “Is that what I think it is?”

Chloe nodded miserably.

“Bummer. How did it get broken?”

Chloe almost blurted out her suspicion that Bobby Lee had broken the lantern on purpose. She liked Sue, and they were becoming friends. But if it meant Sue’s job, where would her loyalties lie? Bobby Lee had been a deputy for years and had a sterling record. Chloe was a new hire with no proof the man had gotten out of line.

“It got knocked off my desk,” she settled for saying.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. I know it was special.”

“Yes,” Chloe agreed, “very special.”

And Bobby Lee knew it.

Later that night after taking Tracy home, Chloe was still too upset over the incident to sleep. In hopes of exhausting herself, she cleaned like a dervish for two hours, wiping out drawers and cupboards, dusting the top of the fridge, and polishing all her kitchen appliances. If she accomplished nothing else, she would at least have some free time to spend with Jeremy tomorrow.

When the kitchen was spotlessly clean, she attacked the laundry. While sorting the colored clothes, she came across the jeans Jeremy had worn that day. There was dog hair on the denim. She held the pants up to the light. How had Jeremy gotten dog hair on his jeans?

Chloe leaned wearily against the washer. Dumb question. He’d gone to Cinnamon Ridge without permission. She couldn’t believe it. She had expressly told him not to go back up there, and he’d promised that he wouldn’t.

Sighing, Chloe let the pants slip from her fingers. For just an instant, she felt angry with Tracy. She was paying the girl well to watch her son.

The thought no sooner entered Chloe’s mind than reason nudged it right back out again. Tracy was doing her job and doing it fine. She kept the house tidy. She played with Jeremy in the evenings and read to him. She was one of the best baby-sitters that Chloe had ever had. The problem lay not with Tracy but with Jeremy, who had chosen to take advantage of his new-found freedom.

Chloe had moved to this area so her son could have a wholesome, wonderful childhood, running and playing in safety in the pockets of forest that surrounded the old subdivision. Jeremy was on his honor to abide by Chloe’s rules, to report back to his sitter, and be where he said he would be. Tracy couldn’t be blamed because Jeremy had suddenly developed a devious streak.

Chloe knew she couldn’t ignore this. Tomorrow morning, she and Jeremy had to talk.

Chloe was pouring her second cup of coffee the next morning when Jeremy skipped into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mom!”

Chloe smiled. It did her heart good to see him acting like a normal little boy again. “What would you like for breakfast, big guy?”

“Happy-face pancakes!”

“Happy-face pancakes, coming up.” Chloe opened a cupboard to make sure she had enough raisins to create eyes and noses. “Berry syrup or maple?”

“Maple!”

“Do you want some bacon today?”

“Just pancakes.”

Chloe was surprised. “No bacon?” She checked him for fever. “You sick?”

He shook his head. “Bacon comes from pigs.”

She bit back a grin. “Well, yes. Where did you think it came from?”

“I knew it came from pigs. I just never thought about the pigs before.”

“Oh. And you’ve decided you don’t want to eat bacon because it comes from pigs?”

In the process of climbing the drawers to get a glass, Jeremy paused, looked over his shoulder, and said, “There’s other good stuff to eat.”

Chloe suspected there was more to the story, but she opted to let the subject drop. Her son had a shoestring tied around his head again this morning, and he was wearing his moccasin slippers instead of sneakers, reminders of her suspicion that Jeremy had sneaked up to the ridge yesterday.

While she mixed the pancake batter, Chloe tried to think of how to broach that subject with her son. After considering several different tacks, she decided on a straightforward approach. “I noticed the strangest thing last night.”

He sloshed milk into a glass. Grabbing a towel to wipe up the spillage, he said, “What kinda strange thing?”

Chloe poured a measure of batter into the hot skillet, quickly formed a happy face with a handful of raisins, and then turned from the stove. “I found dog hair on your jeans.” She quickly realized that would allow him far too much wiggle room. “More specifically, on the jeans you wore yesterday.”

Jeremy wrinkled his nose and squinted. “I had Rowdy on my bed that first day, ’member? He must’ve got hair on my bedspread. It hasn’t never been washed since then, and I played on it last night before my bath.”

Chloe had to give him points for ingenuity. Did all moms feel this awful the first time they caught their children lying? “Jeremy, I want you to tell me the truth. Did you sneak up to Ben Longtree’s house yesterday?”

His expression went incredulous. “Why do you think that?”

He was a slippery little eel. Chloe folded her arms, looked him dead in the eye, and replied, “It wasn’t only Rowdy’s hair that I found on your britches, but Diablo’s, as well. Would you like me to get the jeans and show you?”

He hung his head. “No.”

“You did go up to the ridge yesterday, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

Chloe knew it was stupid to feel betrayed. All kids fibbed to their parents at one time or another. But she and Jeremy had a very special relationship—or so she’d always thought. Hands shaking, she tu
rned to flip his pancake and spent a moment pushing at the edges to make it perfectly round.

“I didn’t tell you a real lie, Mommy,” Jeremy tried.

Chloe turned his pancake onto a plate. “No, but you did dance around the question. That’s the same as lying.” Chloe recalled how she had danced around Bobby Lee’s questions. “Almost the same, anyway.”

“It is?”

She broke off from pouring more batter. “You know it is, Jeremy.”

He scrunched his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I know it was naughty. But I was afraid you’d be real, real mad if I told you.”

“You were right. I’m very upset with you.”

She turned off the burner so she could give the conversation her full attention. After sitting at the table, she patted her knee. “Come here, sweetie.”

He shuffled over. Chloe lifted him onto her lap. “I love you more than anyone else in the world. Do you know that?”

“Yup.”

“Because I love you so much, I make rules to keep you safe.”

“I know.” He pressed his face against her blouse. “I love you, too.”

“You have asthma, Jeremy. The road up to the ridge is steep and dusty. What if you’d had a breathing attack? Tracy had no idea where you were, and neither did I. Did Mr. Longtree even know you were coming?”

“No, I ’prised him.”

After seeing Ben interact with Jeremy, it was difficult for Chloe to believe that he might harm the child, but given town opinion and their short acquaintance, she couldn’t entirely rule out the possibility. Nevertheless, it seemed wiser not to mention that and to focus on other issues.

“Do you remember the time I had to call the ambulance?”

Jeremy nodded. “I had to go to the hospital.”

“That’s right. And on the way, the man in the ambulance gave you a shot and oxygen.” Chloe didn’t want to terrify the child, but she did feel it was vital for him to understand the seriousness of his condition. “What if you’d had a bad breathing attack yesterday? There would have been no one to help you.”

Jeremy rubbed his eye with a fist. “I didn’t have a breathing ’tack, though.”

“You were lucky.”

He pouted his bottom lip. “Rowdy’s real sick, Mom. I gotta go see him every day—to pet him and tell him not to be scared. I’m his only person.”

Chloe hugged him close. “Oh, sweetie, I know you want to see your dog, but you mustn’t take off like that without telling me. It’s too risky.”

What was she going to do? If she refused to take Jeremy to see his dog, he might sneak off and go by himself again. Better that she take him. At least then she’d be there to run interference if Ben Longtree really was as crazy as everyone claimed. “If I promise to take you to see Rowdy as often as Mr. Longtree will allow, do you promise never to go up there alone again?”

“Do you think he’ll let us visit every day?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to ask him. I’ll call him shortly, but only after you and I have settled this to my satisfaction.”

“Am I in real big trouble?”

Chloe touched her nose to his hair, which smelled of shampoo and a wonderful essence exclusively his own. “Let’s just say I can’t let this slide. Lying is a bad habit, and I need to think of a punishment that will make you think twice before you do it again. That being the case, I think your coloring me a picture would be effective.”

“What kind of picture?”

She thought for a moment. “Two pictures, actually—one of an ugly old lie, and one of the truth, which has to be really, really pretty. Can you do that?”

Jeremy nodded.

“While you’re coloring, I want you to think about how hurtful it is to lie to the people you love—and how happy the truth makes everyone feel.”

Ben Longtree answered on the fourth ring, his deep voice slightly edgy.

Chloe identified herself, and then said, “I’m sorry. Have I caught you at a busy moment?” She heard water running in the background. “I can call back later.”

“No, no. Around here, one moment’s as good as another.”

She wrapped the phone cord around her forefinger and watched the tip turn red. “I called to ask if you would mind having company for a little while today. I was hoping to bring Jeremy up to see his puppy.”

A clattering sound came over the wire. Chloe pictured him washing dishes. There was something irresistibly attractive about a man in the kitchen.

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

Despite the reassurance, she detected a note of reluctance in his voice. She thought about saying that they could do it another day, but then she caught a glimpse of Jeremy shoveling down pancakes at record speed, one of his cheeks bulging. The child would be disappointed if he wasn’t able to see Rowdy today, and Chloe didn’t want him sneaking off again.

“I’m off today,” she said. “What time would be convenient for you?”

“I’ll be tied up the next couple of hours. Eleven will work.”

“You’re sure we won’t be interrupting?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’ll be expecting you.”

Muttering under his breath, Ben plunged his hands back into the dishwater, chased around for the dishcloth, and then furiously scrubbed the nonstick pot he’d used for his mother’s oatmeal. Damn it. He didn’t want to see Chloe today—or any other day. Why the hell had he agreed to let her come?

He wasn’t a man who courted trouble; it came knocking on his door often enough. The last thing he needed was to get hung up on some woman. He’d been down that path before, and he wasn’t making the mistake again.

With a hard jerk, he pulled the sink plug, slapped it down on the counter, and turned on the water to rinse out the suds. No way. When a lady affected a man in this way, the smart thing was to avoid her. He should have known after Jeremy’s visit yesterday that Chloe would soon follow.

Ben was tempted to send the pup home with them. Even as the thought took root, he discarded it. The pup was weak. If Rowdy caught another virus, it’d be over.

Not even a miracle would save him.

Chapter Eight

Ben smiled as he crouched by his mother’s rocker. She didn’t glance up from her work, an afghan she was making for his niece Bonnie. He watched her nimble fingers for a moment, glad that she could still crochet. The hobby kept her occupied and out of his hair for hours on end.

The thought filled Ben with guilt. Hap had been a terrible father, but Nan had always tried to make up for it. He owed this lady, not just for her efforts to make his younger years tolerable, but also because she had accepted him just as he was. To Ben, that was a blessing for which he would always be grateful.

“Mom? I’ll be out for a bit. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?”

Scowling at the interruption, she straightened her shoulders. “I’ll be fine, sweetie. You run along and play. When you get back, we’ll make cookies.”

Ever fearful that she might start a fire in the kitchen, he said, “Making cookies will be fun. Just don’t turn on the oven before I get back. Okay?”

“Oh, no. That’s the fun of making cookies, doing it together.”

Confident that she would crochet until he returned, Ben grabbed his pack and the watercooler, then began the hike up to the cave to care for his other patients. The appreciation that settled over him as he walked through his woods never failed to soothe him. The huge, cinnamon-colored trunks of the Ponderosas evoked a sense of serenity within him that he could find nowhere else. He loved the moldy scent of the forest floor. Though the wind whispered in the trees, and birds and squirrels chattered ceaselessly, he could still hear his feet crunch the pine needles that carpeted the earth. He flexed his shoulders, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight that penetrated his cotton shirt.

A rabbit bounded from behind a bush, stopped in his path, and then hopped slowly away, pausing to look back at him. Ben accepted the invitation to follow, and mome
nts later, he found himself standing over a baby bunny with its hind foot caught in a coil of wire snagged on the roots of a tree.

“Hey, little fellow.” Ben set aside his gear and squatted over the helplessly trapped youngster. “Just be still. I’ll have you loose in two shakes.”

The baby rabbit went motionless the instant Ben touched it. Taking care not to pull the wire tighter, he struggled to extricate the little guy’s foot. He was relieved to see that no permanent damage had been done.

The wire untangled easily, and within moments, the baby hopped happily away with his mother. Ben gazed after the pair, feeling necessary in a way that he knew would elude him anywhere else. When he’d first returned to Cinnamon Ridge to care for his mom, he had felt trapped. Now he understood that the true prison had been the life he’d left behind.

You’ve closed the door to your soul, his mother had accused last night, but that wasn’t entirely true. He had opened it partway, he just hadn’t found the courage to open it all the way yet. And perhaps he never would.

After ducking between the strands of barbed wire that marked his property line, Ben began searching the earth for any sign of human footprints that weren’t his own. Since the snowmelt, someone had been invading these woods almost daily to wreak havoc on the animals. What kind of person could cause so much needless suffering and still manage to sleep at night?

The question was still troubling Ben when he approached the cave, situated in the rock face of a cliff, its entrance concealed with brush. Just outside, a doe stood vigil. She was slender and delicately formed, with an easy agility that he envied. He particularly admired the shape of her head and her expressive brown eyes. Many people thought all deer looked alike, but to Ben, they were as individual as humans. This pretty little lady was a sweetheart, and Ben had nicknamed her Sweet Cakes.

As he covered the remaining few feet to the enclosure, he called out softly to warn of his approach. Accustomed to his twice-daily visits, the doe merely wheeled away so he could toss aside the camouflage.