She felt a spark of excitement as she mentally rehearsed how she would coax the cat into the carrier. Of course, there were unknown factors to be considered, but she loved a challenge and was convinced she could do this.
And, really, trapping a cat? How hard could it be?
When she reached Caleb’s ranch, she saw that his truck was there. As she drove up and stopped the Jeep, he appeared in the door of the barn. He was wiping his hands on a rag, which he stuffed into his back pocket before walking over to her.
“You’re really going to do this?” he asked, bending slightly to peer into the back of the Jeep.
“Absolutely,” she assured him, hopping out. She slammed the door shut and hurried around to the back to pull out the cat carrier. Her face brimming with excitement, she said, “There’s no reason this won’t work.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. Even though she knew he doubted her, just as she doubted her students when they came up with outrageous ideas, she simply gave him a confident nod and told him about the trap her dad had loaned out.
She showed him the carrier. “But I think we can make this work. All we have to do is coax her into it.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “How? By calling ‘kitty kitty’ until she comes down?”
“Down? Where is she?”
“I told you. Up in the barn rafters. She’s a cat. She likes to climb.” He took the carrier from her and turned toward the barn.
“Well, where do you usually feed her?”
“Right here, by the door,” he said, nodding toward an empty food dish and a bowl of water. “As ordered by you, I didn’t put out any food today, so all three cats are hungry. When there’s food, the mama comes down and eats when she’s good and ready.”
Laney gave him an exasperated look. “You’re not making this any easier.”
He made a rumbling sound in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Me? It’s not like I can tell that cat what to do. She’s got a mind of her own and she’s feral, after all.”
“Then we’ll have to coax her down with cat food.” Laney looked up at the rafters, which were about twelve feet from the barn floor. She could see a cat observing them from a perch under the eaves.
“Is that her?”
Caleb tilted his head back and squinted. “Yup.”
“First I’ll try coaxing her down by calling her. Does she have a name?”
“Yeah. Cat.”
“And the other two are called...?”
“Cat and Cat.”
This time Laney was the one who raised an eyebrow. “Imaginative,” she said.
He cleared his throat in a way that made her think he was trying to hide a laugh, but she didn’t think he actually knew how to laugh, so she dismissed that thought.
Laney went back to studying the animal. Her tail waved lazily back and forth as she watched the two humans below. “It’s really high, isn’t it? Good thing I’m not afraid of heights.”
“You’re not going up there!”
Laney threw her hands out to her sides. “How do you suggest we get her down, then? I’ve got to put a tiny amount of cat food up there to lure her out, then I’ll place some more every few feet until we get her down to the carrier. And I can see that you’ve got bales of hay and a few boxes stacked up. They’ll make perfect steps for me. I suspect that’s how she gets up and down, too.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Caleb frowned. Laney could tell he wasn’t liking this plan at all, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“Do you have a better idea?” she asked.
“We could leave her alone and...”
“And you can come running out whenever a stray tomcat—or a coyote—appears. How’s that been working for you?”
When he didn’t answer, she was satisfied that she’d won this particular argument. She looked up to check out the rafters again. “Where are the other cats?”
“They’re around somewhere.”
“But that’s the one we want, right?” She pointed to the one under the eaves.
“Yes.” He looked at her, his frown deepening. “Laney, have you ever actually caught a feral cat before?”
“No,” she said, giving him a confident grin. “This will be my first.”
She heard him groan, but she ignored him. Opening the carrier, she placed it on one of the hay bales within Caleb’s reach, then set an open can of cat food inside. “When she goes in, slam the door and lock it.”
“Since she doesn’t like people, do you really think she’s going to come close if I’m here?”
“Did you ever think that maybe it’s only you she doesn’t like?” Laney asked in a tone sweet enough to cause tooth decay.
Caleb scowled in response and she chuckled then said, “It’s going to work perfectly.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in our ability to outsmart this animal,” he said dryly.
She gave him a steady look. “I hope we’re smarter than a feline.”
“I bet we are, but she’s quicker.”
“We’ll see.” She waved a dismissive hand at him. “You do your part and I’ll do mine and we’ll have this problem solved in a flash.”
“Something’s going to happen in a flash,” he mumbled as he took up his post by the hay bales, ready to shut the carrier door as soon as the cat was inside.
“In spite of your belief that this plan is fraught with disaster, I happen to think it will work exactly as planned.” She waved a second can of cat food at him and then tucked it into her back pocket so her hands would be free for climbing. “I bought the best, stinkiest cat food I could find. It will attract her and she’ll want more and more.”
Caleb shook his head, but Laney again thought that he was stifling a laugh.
She waded through a pile of loose hay and began the climb. When she reached a bale high enough to let her stretch up to the rafter near where the cat was perched, she took the can of food from one pocket and a small plastic spoon from another, popped off the lid and placed a tiny bit on the rafter.
“What’s happening?” Caleb whispered.
Laney wrapped her arm around a post, leaned back and peeked at the animal. “Nothing. She’s not interested.”
“I suggest you try to act nonchalant. Maybe she’ll change her mind.”
“Nonchalant? How? By leaning against a post and smoking a cigarette?”
Caleb made a strangled sound then cleared his throat. “You don’t smoke.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, looking down at him.
“Because you smell like citrus and flowers, not cigarettes.”
Laney noticed he hadn’t met her gaze when he’d said that. A big smile curved her lips as she began stepping down to the next hay bale. “I’ll move away. I’m probably spooking her.”
“If by spooked, you mean she hasn’t moved a muscle and has drifted off to sleep, then, yeah, she’s spooked.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t help.”
Laney spooned out some more cat food and looked up hopefully. The mama cat yawned.
“Oh. I guess she’s not hungry.”
“Look out,” Caleb warned, pointing to a spot past her head. “Someone else is.”
“What? Oh!” She looked up in time to see two furry shapes bouncing from the rafter beam to the hay bale in front of her. Her hands shot out to ward them off. The can of food flew from her grip and the two felines soared after it, clipping Laney’s shoulder as they went.
Arms wind-milling, she fought for balance, bending her body forward to keep from falling. She managed to catch her balance, but her left foot slipped from the hay bale and landed hard on the next one down, leaving her right foot still on the top one. Caught in this crazy split, she couldn’t stay upright and found h
erself tumbling down the last two bales to land on her back in the pile of hay at the bottom.
“Laney! Are you all right?” Caleb hurried over and hunkered down beside her, wincing with the effort.
The fall had knocked the wind out of her and she couldn’t inhale much-needed air. She couldn’t make a sound, either. Her eyes, wide with fright, fixed on his face, begging silently for help.
“Take it easy, Laney. Relax. You can breathe.”
She shook her head in terror. Was he crazy? Couldn’t he see?
“Look at me,” he commanded, taking her chin in his hand and turning her face to his. His eyes, dark and steady with purpose, looked into hers. “Take a breath, Laney. Now,” he ordered.
He slipped his hand beneath her shirt and settled it on her diaphragm, then pressed firmly to force air out. Somehow, that reminded her body what breathing was like, and at last Laney sucked air into her starved lungs. She coughed and wheezed a few times, but finally her breathing began to ease. Gulping, she tried to clear her head.
“Thank...thank you,” she said, looking up at him. His eyes were full of concern as he slipped his arm around to support her back. She took another breath. She was going to stand any minute now, as soon as her body recovered from the impact with the floor. Thank heaven for the pile of hay that had cushioned her fall.
“I didn’t do anything,” he said. “You only had to relax and let your body remember how to breathe.” He eased down beside her, lying on his left side.
“By pushing...on my stomach.”
“Your diaphragm. There’s always some air left in your lungs. That’s why the Heimlich maneuver works. If I push that air out, your lungs will automatically try to bring more in.” He illustrated his words by gently pressing high on her belly again. “That’s their job.”
Her breath jerked in.
“See? It works.”
His hand slid across her skin, leaving heat behind, but she was too stunned to object. Even though she could breathe now, she hardly dared.
Caleb Ransom had let down his guard. His eyes were looking into hers, not defensive or angry as they’d been every other time she had seen him, but appreciative. He seemed to like looking at her and she was glad he did. He was even smiling at her, slightly, and the scar on his cheek gave his smile an endearing crookedness.
Cautiously, because she didn’t want him to scuttle back into his shell, Laney lifted her hand and touched her fingers gently to the left side of his face, the side untouched by whatever trauma had scarred the rest of him. To her stunned surprise, he turned his head and placed a kiss in the palm of her hand.
Emotion clogged her throat at the sweet gesture. “Caleb,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”
“Darned if I know.” Then he lowered his head and settled his lips over hers. It was tender, gentle, loving.
It had been so long since anyone had kissed her this way that Laney was delighted and scared at the same time. But truly, it was wonderful.
When at last he took his lips from hers, she lifted her head to kiss his right cheek. Her lips skimmed across the scar, following it down to the corner of his mouth.
He froze then turned his face away. His hands came up to set her away from him.
“Caleb?” she asked, blinking in confusion. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I took advantage of you. That was wrong.” He moved away from her. Balancing on the nearest hay bale, he struggled to his feet then reached down a hand to help her up.
Laney’s eyes flew to his face; closed off now, shuttered, as if that briefest of tender moments had never happened. Confused and embarrassed, she stood and dusted herself off, then avoided his gaze as she plucked hay from her hair.
“Are you all right?” he asked gruffly. “You’re not hurt?”
Only her pride, she thought. Or was it her heart? She shook her head. Looking around, trying to get past the awkward moment, she said, “I’ll have to try this again, but next time I’ll go to Don Parkey’s office and borrow a cat trap.”
“Yeah, sure.” Caleb took off his cowboy hat, tapped it against his leg to get the dust off and resettled it on his head as if readying his armor.
She turned to get the cat carrier, removing the opened can of cat food from inside and setting it beside the door. The two felines who had startled her were nowhere to be seen, and the mama cat was still in her place in the eaves, placidly watching the goings-on below.
Laney cleared her throat self-consciously. “I’ll be on my way, then, and I’ll, uh, let you know when I can...come and catch that cat.”
He nodded and didn’t meet her eyes.
Without another word, Laney turned and hurried to her Jeep. She put the carrier in the back, jumped into her seat and started the engine. Turning in a wide circle, she left Caleb behind and headed for town to pick up her son. It was time to get back to normal, to forget what happened and didn’t happen between her and Caleb.
Her phone rang before she reached the highway and she pulled over to the side of the road to answer it. It was Kebra Wade, her fire team crew chief.
“We’ve been called out to a fire in Idaho, Laney. Can you meet us in Tucson by eight o’clock tonight?”
“I’ll be there.”
Laney knew her family would take care of Sam. She pulled back onto the road and immediately began planning what needed to be done before she left for Tucson. She would pick up her son, take him home to get ready to spend several days either with her mom and dad or with Ethan and Jenny, pack her gear and head out of town to fight a fire. She would be much too busy to give a moment’s thought to Caleb Ransom. And that was exactly how she wanted it.
* * *
CALEB STARED AT himself in the bathroom mirror, turning his jaw right and left to check the closeness of his shave—something he hadn’t done very much since an IED had blown up next to the Bradley fighting vehicle in which he’d been riding the last month of his last tour of duty in Afghanistan.
At first, he’d been too injured to shave. Then he’d been too repulsed by what he’d seen in the mirror. Now he could see that the scars had faded. They were red, some even diminishing to pink, no longer the puckered purple he’d seen when the bandages were first removed. Best of all, they didn’t hurt—unlike his leg, which felt as bad as it looked.
Caleb touched the pattern of scars once again then met his gaze in the mirror.
He was annoyed with himself. He’d never intended to get that close to Laney. When he’d seen her fall onto her back, his heart had nearly stopped, and watching her struggle for breath had alarmed him, but it hadn’t brought flashbacks of helping his wounded men in Afghanistan. He’d been focused only on her. When she’d caught her breath and looked up at him, so vulnerable and scared, when a minute before she’d been sassy and sure of herself, he’d done what he’d told himself he wouldn’t do and kissed her.
She had tasted so good, reacted so sweetly, that he had forgotten for a minute that he had no business touching her, much less kissing her.
Then she’d kissed his scar. His numb scar. The fact that he couldn’t feel her lips there had jolted him, made him instantly recall how repulsive his face was.
He’d felt at odds with his own body ever since he’d been wounded, and he had tried to overcome that discomfort. Obviously he hadn’t succeeded completely. In addition to his scarred face, he still cursed the weakness and pain in his right leg. He knew his discomfort showed and was the reason no one had touched him the way Laney had. He wouldn’t let anyone get that close, and he hadn’t—at least not until Laney had come along.
Moving with the care he’d cultivated and still hated having to do, he went into his bedroom and dressed in clean jeans, shirt and his slip-on shoes. He couldn’t wear cowboy boots because they were so hard to pull on and almost impossible to get off, even if he used a bootjack. M
ost days he wore a pair of his old combat boots.
At the door, his hand hovered over the hat rack as he wondered whether or not he should wear his cowboy hat. Oh, why not? Sam would expect it. He clapped it on his head and looked down at Bertie, who gazed back with a mournful expression.
“No, you’re not going. You’ll have plenty of time to play with Sam later on, because I don’t think there’s any chance his mom will be able to keep him from coming over here.”
Oh, man, he was having a conversation with his dog. But then, why not? At least Bertie didn’t talk back. “Right now,” he went on, “I’ve got to go plant sod and petunias, not to mention apologize to his mom—even if I do feel like a fool. And there’s no need to remind me it was crazy to shower and shave when I’m only going to get dirty again.”
Bertie made a snuffling sound that Caleb took as agreement that his human was, indeed, crazy. He shut the door and headed out to his truck, which he had parked in the shade of the barn to shield the sod and flowers from the sun. He tossed the tools he thought he’d need into the back of the truck and climbed behind the wheel.
As he started the engine and turned in a big arc to head down his drive, he tried to think of what he was going to say to her. He’d been stewing over it practically every minute since she’d left yesterday and he still didn’t know what brilliant thing was going to come out of his mouth.
He’d been off-kilter since he’d met Sam and Laney. That was the only explanation. His carefully constructed isolation, his defensive barriers, had been breached. Any well-trained soldier would have known to retreat, to establish a new perimeter of defense. Instead he was rushing out to meet the threat to his aloneness like a green recruit bent on self-destruction.
Tired of trying to figure out what was going on in his own head, he was determined to plant those stupid flowers, replace the sod and get out of there.
“In other words, Ransom, try not to make a complete fool of yourself,” he muttered as he slowed to turn into Laney’s yard. His gaze darted around, noticing that her Jeep wasn’t parked anywhere that he could see.
Stopping the truck, he climbed out and knocked on the front door and then walked around the house, but could find no one home.
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