Only by Your Touch

by Catherine Anderson

  “How’s your baby this morning?”

  The doe’s only response was to nuzzle his discarded pack in search of a treat. Ben opened a side pocket, gave her a slice of apple, and proceeded into the cave with her at his heels. Her fawn, caged just inside the entrance, bleated at the sight of her, hungry for her milk.

  Setting aside his gear, Ben threw open the cage door. “With an appetite like that, Kiddo, I’d say you’re on the mend.”

  Unlike the other animals, which had all been shot with a .22-caliber rifle, Kiddo had a compound fracture of the right rear leg, compliments of a careless motorist. Late one night about three weeks ago, Ben had found the poor little tyke lying on Shoshone Road. He’d loaded the fawn into the back of his pickup and driven home at a crawl so the mother could follow. In another six weeks, he would remove the cast and release the fawn back into her care.

  Hobbling awkwardly from the cage, Kiddo bleated again and rubbed noses with his mama. When the initial hellos had been said, he moved to her side, nuzzled her underbelly, and began to nurse. Smiling, Ben watched for a moment.

  A dank, musty smell assailed his nostrils as he turned away to light the lantern. As the lamp’s golden glow illuminated the walls of the cave, he softly cursed Bobby Lee Schuck for making it necessary to hide his patients here. The accommodations were inadequate, with poor ventilation, moist air, and a rocky floor that made leveling the cages a pain in the ass. Ben did his best to keep the pens clean and the water fresh, but with so many critters in a confined space, housekeeping was an uphill battle. There was also the constant worry that one of the animals might have a setback, which was why he came twice a day to check on them.

  Before starting to work, Ben visited the cages to give each occupant a little one-on-one. The badger loved to have his belly scratched. Carefully protecting his hurt shoulder, the animal rolled onto his back and gave Ben a beady-eyed, imperious look. While Ben rubbed the demanding fellow’s belly, he visually examined the wound. There was less seepage on the bandage this morning, a good sign. The antibiotics were clearing up the infection.

  “You’re just a big old baby,” he accused as the badger arched his back for more scratching. “Like I have time to give you a belly rub?”

  After petting the badger a few more seconds, Ben moved from cage to cage, speaking softly to the other animals and giving each some special attention. It wasn’t really necessary to their recovery, but it was Ben’s policy to make petting as important a part of the routine as medical treatment. He believed his patients recovered more quickly as a result.

  He made no sudden movements as he crouched by the rabbit’s cage. She was a timid little thing even with Ben, yearning for attention but nervous when she received it. “You don’t trust easily, do you, Valentine?” The muscles along her spine twitched as he lightly stroked her fur. “That’s okay. Neither do I.” He drew a piece of carrot from his pocket, which he’d brought just for her. “It doesn’t mean we don’t need a little TLC now and again, does it?”

  Her pink, heart-shaped nose twitched as she sniffed the offering. He’d sliced it thin because she preferred her carrots that way—little slivers that she could munch easily. While she enjoyed the morsel, he gently examined her left haunch, where she’d been shot two weeks before. The wound, which he no longer kept covered, was healing nicely. She’d be lame, but over time, she’d learn to compensate.

  His heart squeezed as he moved across the cave to visit the raccoon and coyote. In the final stages of recovery from a bullet wound to the front shoulder, the smaller animal was doing well, but the canid lay listlessly in his pen.

  “Hey, Sly.” Ben opened the coyote’s cage to examine the wound, located high on his back. The slug, lodged dangerously close to the spine, couldn’t be removed without risking permanent paralysis. Ben could only wait and hope that the damaged nerves healed themselves. For now, the coyote had only partial use of one hind leg. “You’re not looking too chipper today, my friend.”

  Waiting and doing nothing for the creature bothered Ben deeply. That’s what came of making exceptions, he supposed. Like an ex-smoker who’d sneaked a cigarette, now that he’d bent the rules for Rowdy, he found himself wanting to go the extra mile all the time.

  He gently stroked the coyote’s shaggy fur, and the tension went out of its body. Ben sighed and ran his palm over the animal’s flank. “That’s the best I can do for you. I’m sorry.”

  The coyote’s eyes had drifted shut. Ben made a mental note to administer an injection of morphine before he left. That would keep the animal comfortable until he returned tonight.

  After feeding all his patients and changing their water, Ben made his rounds, checking wounds and temperatures, applying fresh bandages, and doling out medications. The fawn had finished his breakfast and was leaning happily against his mama by the time Ben finished. He hated to cut the cuddle session short, but his guests would be arriving soon. If he didn’t get back, his mother would have Chloe cleaning the oven.

  Ben had just started to fix his mother’s lunch when he heard a car pull up out front. That was undoubtedly Chloe, arriving on the dot. Why that annoyed him, he didn’t know. He hated to be kept waiting. Maybe that was what rankled, he decided as he walked to the entry hall with Diablo trailing behind him. He wanted her to do something to make him dislike her, and she wasn’t cooperating.

  Most of the time when he got to know a woman, he grew critical. He didn’t like the way she simpered, or he discovered that she was a rotten mother, or the way she laughed began to needle him, or her conversation bored him. The list was endless, and it was a rare female who didn’t fall short in some way.

  So why hadn’t Chloe? So far, she was too damned perfect to be real.

  Standing back from the tall, narrow window that flanked the front door, Ben angled his head to peer out. Ms. Perfect was rounding the front bumper of her car, one hand held out to her son. Even with the door closed, Ben could hear the cheerful lilt of her voice and felt warmed.

  And a little empty, he decided as he watched her and Jeremy together. The love between them was almost tangible—a relaxed, offhand affection that made both of them smile at each other. How might his life have turned out if Sherry had been that kind of woman—tenderhearted and loyal, with a loving nature?

  Ben shoved the thought away. He couldn’t let himself move in that direction. Didn’t dare. Developing a fondness for Chloe Evans would be emotional suicide. He’d never open himself up to that kind of hurt again.

  The doorbell chimed, and Ben jumped a foot. Muttering curses at himself for acting like such an idiot, he reached to open the door, then stopped himself because he didn’t want to seem eager. And if that wasn’t stupid, he didn’t know what was. What did he care if she thought he was eager? He wasn’t. That was the bottom line, and what she thought didn’t matter.

  Right, a little voice whispered mockingly at the back of his mind. You care what she thinks. That’s what’s eating you.

  Ben braced himself as he drew the door open. What he needed was a one-night fling to get his libido under control. He’d been too long without a woman; that was all. Any female would look good to him right now.

  And, damn it, she does look good.

  Holding her son’s hand, she stood in a pool of bright sunlight, wearing faded jeans and a baggy Seahawks T-shirt. Her auburn hair had been slicked back from her face into a French braid, but tendrils had whipped free in the breeze to saucily frame her face. As near as he could tell, she wore no makeup, but the naturally dark gloss of her lashes lent her eyes definition, and the rosy flush on her cheeks was all the color she needed.

  “Hi,” she said.

  Her smile was sweet, and her gaze, though still wary, was more direct today. Dressed as she was, she obviously wasn’t out to impress him, so why was his hand sweating on the doorknob? “Hi.”

  Jeremy tugged free from her grasp and dashed past Ben into the house. “Jeremy!” she cried. When the child kept going, she shrugged. “I’m sorry
. He’s six. What more can I say?” Diablo turned to follow the child. Flicking a look at Ben, she asked, “Is your dog okay with him barging in like this?”

  “They’ve met a couple of times. I’m sure it’s fine.” Ben moved back to let her in. “He’s generally cantankerous only with adults.”

  Observing her as she stepped through the doorway, Ben wondered how she managed to look so good without trying. The T-shirt clung softly to her shape, outlining a small bust and a trim waist that flared temptingly to nicely rounded hips. From the hem of the shirt down, the faded jeans took over, showcasing slender legs with just enough plumpness at the thigh to draw a man’s eye.

  For a slightly built woman, she packed a hell of a wallop.

  Neck craned to gaze after her child, she said, “He really shouldn’t rush in like that. I thought I taught him better manners.”

  Ben’s gaze was fixed on the V of her collarbone, exposed by the stretched-out neckline of the T-shirt. Her skin there was creamy and looked as soft as a baby’s. There was a freckle just above the ribbed cotton, and seeing it, he yearned to see if she had more under the shirt. He shoved his hands in his pockets. The thought of trailing kisses from freckle to freckle made him miss what she’d said.

  She glanced up. “He’s acting like he owns the place.”

  “He came up yesterday to see the pup. He knows he’s welcome.”

  “I wanted to speak with you about that. About him coming up here, I mean. He neglected to ask permission.”

  “He didn’t stay long. It really wasn’t an imposition, if that’s your worry.”

  “There’s that, too, I suppose. But that isn’t my main concern.” She swallowed and tugged nervously at the hem of the T-shirt. “If he should show up again, would you please call me? I really don’t want him coming up here alone.”

  Ben felt as if he’d been sucker punched. Just that quickly, he was pissed. Where, exactly, did she get off? He hadn’t blamed her that first day for being afraid for her child. She hadn’t known him then. But she did now, and he’d given her no reason to fear that he might harm her boy.

  “I’ll do you one better. When you leave, I’ll send the pup home with you. That way, Jeremy won’t have a reason to come up here again. End of problem.”

  She flashed him a startled look. “But I thought you said that would be risky for the puppy.”

  “I was under the impression I was helping someone who appreciated it. May I point out that I’m giving your dog round-the-clock medical care, free of charge? It’s pretty damned rude to accept the favor and then insult me.”

  Looking bewildered, she said, “Insult you?”

  “How else should I feel when you imply that I might hurt your kid?”

  Her expression turned incredulous. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Whoa. Back up. I’m afraid we’re getting our wires crossed. I just—”

  “My wires aren’t crossed. I understand exactly what your concerns are, Ms. Evans. Ben Longtree, the crazy man who murders hapless hunters when they trespass onto his land. One small boy should be a cinch.”

  She held up a hand. “Wait just a second. That isn’t—I wasn’t—”

  “You weren’t what?”

  She moistened her lips. “It’s true that I have concerns about some of those rumors. I won’t deny that. Nor will I pretend I wasn’t alarmed when he came up here that first morning. But in all fairness to me, what mother wouldn’t be? I still know very little about you. Even so, I never for an instant meant to imply that you might harm him, and that isn’t the reason I don’t want him coming up here alone.”

  An ache spread through Ben’s chest, which only made him angrier. He didn’t want to care what people thought of him—especially her. And he sure as hell wouldn’t allow it to hurt. “Right. We’re having soup for lunch. Would you and Jeremy care to stay? I’ve picked out all the finger bones.”

  All the color washed from her face. “You know, Ben, there’s such a thing as being a little too sensitive.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. My son has a severe breathing problem. He shouldn’t be riding his bike up that steep hill.”

  An awful sinking sensation assailed Ben’s stomach.

  “He has asthma. I won’t get into the details, but sometimes the attacks come on suddenly and for no apparent reason. Along with a host of other things, overtaxing himself physically seems to bring them on.”

  Ben had seen Jeremy have an attack, and now he felt like hell for jumping down her throat. Just looking into her eyes told him that she was telling the truth. While she might have a few concerns about his character—perhaps even more than a few—her main reason for being so protective of the child had little to do with him.

  “The road up here is really dusty,” she went on, “and it’s extremely steep. I don’t want him riding up here because I’m afraid he’ll collapse. Most times, he recovers on his own, but once I had to call an ambulance.” She fixed him with an imploring look. “I honestly believed he might die. It was horrible. I can’t take a chance that it might happen again when he’s all alone.”

  No, of course she couldn’t. Ben had acted like a jackass a few times in his life, but this took the cake. Resting his hands on his hips, he bent his head. “I jumped to conclusions, I guess.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I just thought—well, it’s obvious what I thought.”

  “Ben?”

  He brought his head up. “What?”

  “You don’t need to apologize.” Her soft mouth curved into a smile. “Can we just back up and start over?”

  “Since I’m the one with my foot in my mouth, I won’t argue with that.”

  She laughed, a light, musical sound that moved over him like sunlight. “I haven’t completely discounted all the rumors about you,” she said candidly, “but I can say I think a number of them are preposterous. I don’t believe that you killed those hunters, for starters. And, in my opinion, the theory that you fed the evidence to your animals is the product of twisted minds. People repeating that poppycock need to get a life.”

  Ben searched her small face, wishing she could discount all the stories with as much certainty. Even as the thought took root, though, he knew it was unrealistic. To feel certain none of those stories were true, she’d need to know him a lot better than she did now. “My sentiments exactly.”

  “There, you see? We’re on the same page.” She touched his arm. “I’m sorry for not making myself clear. I can see how you might have taken it wrong. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  His voice grated like sandpaper as he said, “I guess this should be a lesson to me not to jump to conclusions.”

  Her fingertips seared his skin through the sleeve of his shirt, and low in his guts, desire knotted like a fist. As though she sensed that, she quickly drew her hand away, looking a little startled. Wide with wariness, her eyes flicked to his. She ran the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip.

  “Well.” She tugged on the T-shirt and laughed again. The sound had a shrill edge. “Is that invitation to lunch still open? I’ve never had hunter soup.”

  She might have carried off the attempt at humor if her voice hadn’t twanged with nervousness. Ben watched her fidget, wishing he could smooth over the moment, but he was as uneasy as she was. Not good.

  “I’m fresh out of hunter soup. Pizza’s on the menu today.”

  “Darn. Just my luck.”

  She was so pretty that Ben couldn’t stop staring at her face. It was heart-shaped, he realized, curving gently to a pointy chin. Sunlight slanting through the doorway ignited the fine overlay of downy hair on her cheeks, making her look as if she’d been sprinkled with gold dust. The scent she wore, a musky floral, drifted to his nostrils and made him want to lean closer to get a better whiff.

  The attraction arced between them like a high-voltage force field. Searching his dark face, Chloe knew he felt it, too. If they had been alone, that smoldering heat in his
eyes would have had her nerves leaping. Who was she kidding? Her nerves were leaping now.

  She took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. “Shall we? My son’s going to think we got lost.”

  He gestured for her to go ahead of him. She could feel his eyes on her back as she moved toward the kitchen. She let her arms dangle loosely at her sides. Then she hugged her waist. Then she let her arms hang again. She felt like an elephant walking on ice.

  In a strange way, it felt good, she realized. Exciting. It had been a long time since a man had had this effect on her. She felt alive, and young, and—well, pretty. She supposed any woman appreciated that feeling.

  As she stepped from the entry hall, Chloe came to such an abrupt stop that Ben’s chest collided with her shoulder blades.

  “Oh,” was all she could think to say as she took in the fabulous view of the mountains afforded by the floor-to-ceiling windows at the east side of the house. She’d been so upset and worried about Jeremy during her last visit that she’d failed to really look at it. “How lovely.”

  Ben moved to stand beside her. “Like it?”

  “What’s not to like?” The view was panoramic, with a 180-degree expanse of mountains laid out before her. Chloe’s attention was caught by a craggy summit still dusted with snow. “Is that Shoshone Peak over to the left?”

  “Yes.” He touched her elbow. “We’ll go out on the deck later so you can really enjoy it.”

  His touch made her nerves hum. She was acutely aware of him looming beside her. The top of her head didn’t clear his shoulder. She needed to get away from him, she thought stupidly. And once she did, she needed to stay away.

  To distract herself, Chloe gave the house a sweeping glance, paying attention to detail. Broad expanses of terra cotta stretched to the living room on the right and to the family room on the left, with inlaid teal carpet striking a pleasant contrast. Massive river-rock fireplaces were the focal points of each end wall, the faces reaching to the peak of the cathedral ceiling. A large gourmet kitchen divided the two sitting areas, light maple cabinetry complementing the sunny brightness of the adjoining living areas and the sunroom beyond.