Where were they? Had she gone to find the humane cat trap she was so convinced would snare the mama cat? Darn! He’d worked himself up to the point where he could face her and get out of there, even though he didn’t know exactly what he was going to say. Now it would have to wait.
But replacing the plants and the grass destroyed by his cattle couldn’t wait. He got quickly to work, planting the petunias, digging up the area of destroyed grass, pressing the squares of sod into place, then watering everything.
When he was done, Caleb loaded his tools into his truck and started to climb inside, but then paused. Leaving the truck door open, he walked around her house again, this time noticing what kind of house it was, how the upkeep had been done. It was almost identical to his, built long before either of them were born, built to last long after they were gone. Both places had been meant for a family, but his house would never have a family—at least, not while he owned it.
Caleb shook his head, banishing that unhappy thought. He reminded himself that he’d made his choice in life and that choice was being alone.
Shadows were lengthening and the temperature was dropping. Once again, he heard the coyotes in the distance, but not the high scream he’d heard a few nights before. Everything seemed peaceful.
Caleb headed for his truck. There was no reason to stay any longer. Laney and Sam would be home soon. Once they got the matter of the barn cat settled, he would keep his distance and she would keep hers. That was the way it was going to be.
Or at least the way it should have been. For Caleb was back the next day and then the next, riding Cisco over to the Reynolds’ place. He’d even let Bertie come along, knowing it would delight Sam. But there was no sign of his neighbor. He watered the flowers and the new sod as he grew more anxious and annoyed.
“What was the point of giving her my number if she’s not going to call me and tell me where she is?” he complained to Cisco and Bertie as he swung back into the saddle after his third trip to Laney’s house.
He was ticked off that she hadn’t let him know where she was, and even more ticked off that he cared.
“It’s official, Cisco,” he said as he turned the horse toward home. “I’ve lost my mind.”
* * *
LANEY USED HER shovel to turn over a pile of scorched debris, searching for hot spots that could erupt into new flames if left alone. She sifted the leaves and pine needles, scattering them as she looked for glowing embers. Finding none, she moved ahead, crisscrossing the area she’d been assigned then signaling to Kebra that her area was clear.
Stopping to catch her breath, she took off her helmet then unhooked her water bottle from her belt and took a long drink. Next she dampened a bandanna to wipe the grime from her face. Leaning her head back, she scanned the ridge where they’d been working in shifts for three days, digging trenches, creating firebreaks, trying to deprive the eager fire of its fuel. Finally they were ahead of it. It was always a satisfying feeling when they turned a corner on a fire and began to gain control.
The crackle of dry twigs behind her had her turning to see Kebra trudging up the hill to join her. Together, they scanned the area for smoke or embers.
Kebra pointed to a spot near the top of the hill. “After you catch your breath, can you go up there and help Rita and Katie with their section?”
“Sure.”
They paused and sipped water as they contemplated the work still remaining.
“It’ll be a long time before this wildland recovers,” Laney said, shaking her head.
“The scars will last for decades.” Kebra removed her helmet, too, and blotted sweat from her face.
“Crazy, isn’t it, that fire is actually necessary for new growth? But the scars are always there.” For some reason Caleb’s marked face popped into her mind. “They never fade,” she finished quietly.
Kebra glanced at her and was silent for several seconds as if waiting for Laney to go on. When nothing was forthcoming, she said, “We’ll be finished up here by tomorrow and we can go home. I guess you’re anxious to get back to that little boy of yours.”
“Yes. When I talked to him yesterday, he said he’s been riding his new bike every day and he can do tricks now.”
Kebra grinned. “Those are words guaranteed to strike terror in a mother’s heart.” She moved off to check on the other crew members.
Laney contemplated the burned hillside again before going up to help Rita and Katie. Here, the scars were obvious, she thought, but Caleb Ransom’s were on the inside, as well. Then she wondered why her troubling neighbor had popped into her mind. She’d been very conscientious about keeping him out.
She still felt bothered by the way Caleb had pulled away from her. She’d thought he was enjoying kissing her as much as she was enjoying being kissed, but something had stopped him and she didn’t know what. If only she could get past his defenses, pull him out of that shell where he spent so much time closing everyone out and— Darn! Once again she was spending way too much time thinking about him. She clapped her helmet back onto her head and, grabbing her shovel, climbed the hill.
CHAPTER SIX
CALEB EMERGED FROM Don Parkey’s veterinary clinic with a small paper bag in his hand. Some of the horses Don had brought out to his ranch had probably never had inoculations of any kind, so Caleb had to take care of it. He didn’t mind, especially if it meant the horses would be ready for adoption sooner. He was glad to see their progress, but they needed to move on to permanent homes, for Don intended to bring him more. And it would be best if he didn’t get too attached to them.
He’d also told Don about Laney’s plan to capture the mama cat in his barn and asked for the loan of a humane cat trap, which he’d already placed in the bed of his truck.
He was about to climb into the truck when a high-pitched voice shouted his name.
“Mr. Ransom! Mr. Ransom! Wait for me!”
He turned to see Sam Reynolds racing up the sidewalk toward him, arms and legs pumping while an older man and woman hurried along behind him. Familiar with Sam’s enthusiasm, Caleb quickly moved to brace himself against the cab of the truck before the boy reached him.
True to form, Sam barreled into him and wrapped himself around Caleb’s good leg. Caleb leaned back and grinned, touched that this little boy was so accepting of him. He reached down and lightly chucked Sam under the chin, making the little boy giggle.
“Hi, buddy.”
“Hi, Mr. Ransom. Where’s Bertie?”
“Hey, you got my name right,” said Caleb. “Well done.”
“I been practicing,” Sam said proudly. “Where’s Bertie?” he asked again.
“He’s home.” Caleb indicated the paper bag in his hand. “I had to come in to town to get some medicine for some of the horses.”
“Are they sick?”
“Ah, no.” Caleb frowned. How did he explain inoculations to a four-year-old? “No, but this will keep them from getting sick.”
Before Sam could ask any more questions, the woman with him stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Vivian Crown, Delaney’s mom, and this is my husband, Frank.”
The two men shook hands as Vivian went on. “Sam has been filling our ears with stories about the wonders of Bertie.”
“He can be on his back and put all four feet up,” Sam told his grandparents.
Probably not for the first time, Caleb thought, observing their indulgent looks.
“Amazing,” they agreed, smiling at Caleb, who returned an awkward smile of his own.
While Sam entertained them with more stories about Bertie, Caleb studied them. He didn’t see much family resemblance between these two and their daughter. They were both fair-skinned and blond, where Laney and Sam had dark hair and eyes. They weren’t very tall, either. Frank couldn’t have stood much over five-
six and Vivian was shorter still. Laney must tower over them.
As he pondered the discrepancy, Caleb’s eye was caught by someone who’d stepped out of the same office building that housed the vet and was standing there about twenty feet away, staring at them. She was a skinny woman in a severe blue suit. She seemed to show avid interest in Sam, who prattled on about Bertie, oblivious to the newcomer. The woman moved closer.
Sam’s grandparents, however, when they saw her, seemed to draw in on themselves. Frank reached down and caught one of Sam’s gesturing hands, holding it protectively. Curious about this new dynamic, Caleb barely heard what Sam was saying.
When the boy’s stories about Bertie finally ran down, Vivian managed to get a word in. “Laney should be back in a day or two,” she said to Caleb.
“Back? Where is she?”
“My mom fights fires,” Sam said, wiggling his hand out of his grandfather’s grip and holding up his fists like a pint-size prizefighter.
Caleb’s gaze darted between the two adults. “Fires?”
“Oh, I guess she didn’t tell you,” Vivian said. “During the summer, she’s a wildland firefighter. They get called out several times each season. Sometimes they go straight from one fire to another.” She smiled down at her grandson. “So Sam stays with us or his aunt and uncle.”
The newcomer cleared her throat, demanding acknowledgment.
“Hello, Monette. How are you?” Vivian said coolly, her sudden change in demeanor surprising Caleb. In a crisp tone she introduced the woman as Monette Berkley and told her that Caleb was Laney’s neighbor.
“So she’s still fighting fires, is she?” the newcomer said. “It’s dangerous—”
“Monette!” Vivian snapped. “Laney knows what she’s doing.”
The skinny woman’s mouth shut and her lips almost disappeared into a thin line as she frowned. Her eyes narrowed into angry slits.
Caleb’s gut was burning. He’d been in firefights, the kind where bullets and rocket-propelled grenades flew instead of sparks. Now Laney was in danger and he had a mental picture of flames and explosions. Sweat popped out on his forehead and he couldn’t trust his voice, so he nodded in apparent agreement with Vivian. He could see the woman named Monette gazing at him with speculation in her eyes, but he turned away.
The Crowns looked at him oddly as if he’d suddenly been struck mute—which he had. Then they each took one of Sam’s hands, said goodbye and hurried down the sidewalk.
Sam called back over his shoulder. “Mr. Ransom, give Bertie a hug for me.”
Ignoring Monette, who still stood there, Caleb climbed into his truck, but had to sit for several minutes to let his hands stop shaking. Laney was in danger and it made him sick. She was a mother, for crying out loud. How could she take chances like that? Possibly leaving her son an orphan?
Didn’t she know what that was like for a kid? To have a parent snatched away? And in this case, she was apparently Sam’s only parent. If something happened to her now, Sam probably wouldn’t even be able to remember her. Family photos wouldn’t cut it, wouldn’t make up for the loss of his mother.
What was she thinking?
Gripping the steering wheel, he took a deep breath, held it, released it and breathed in again. By sheer force of will, he pushed the panicky rage down. After a few more seconds he reached out to start the engine.
“Not your business, Ransom,” he said through his teeth, shoving the key into the ignition and cranking the engine. As he drove away, he looked in his rearview and saw Monette Whoever-she-was staring after him.
* * *
LANEY ARRIVED HOME at midnight the next night, but didn’t stop to pick up Sam even though she had a new book about cowboys that one of her team members had bought for him. The thoughtful gift was carefully wrapped in her last clean T-shirt and stored in her duffel, awaiting her son’s surprised delight.
She always preferred to get cleaned up and rested before she saw him. As a four-year-old, he had a vision of her firefighting job that didn’t quite fit with reality and she was content to leave it that way for now. He had never seen her grimy from soot or red-eyed from smoke and exhaustion. It was all she could do to make the hour’s drive home from Tucson, shower and fall into bed.
When she awoke the next morning she felt groggy and out of step. It took her much longer than usual to comb the tangles out of her hair, since she’d gone to bed with it wet. She finally managed to tame it into submission and into a loose braid.
After four days in her heavy, protective turnouts, she wanted to wear as little as decently possible. Pulling on shorts and a tank top, she dug a pair of sandals from the bottom of the closet.
Since she had been fighting fires for three years, she knew that when returning from a fire, it took her a day or so to decompress and return to her usual routine, and it always seemed as though she was moving in slow motion.
In the kitchen, she considered what to eat for breakfast while coffee seemed to drip into the carafe with agonizing sluggishness, its tantalizing aroma torturing her. As she waited, she called Vivian to say she’d be there to pick up Sam in a couple of hours, reassuring her mother that no one on her team had been injured in the fire. Then she sat, sipped her coffee and tried to think about what needed to be done.
First, she had to get her equipment ready in case she was called out again soon. It wasn’t unusual for her to go to back-to-back fires across the West during the summer. Getting her equipment ready was part of her process of winding down from the last fire. After she completed that task, she would go get Sam.
In between, she had to stop by to talk to Caleb Ransom about that darned cat. She had managed to entirely avoid thinking about Caleb for six days—well, almost entirely. Recalling what had happened the last time she’d seen him made her squirm.
She hardly knew the man and yet she’d kissed him desperately. “Desperately” being the operative word. She had never reacted to a man that way, not even her husband, James. It was confusing and embarrassing, but remembering how Caleb had felt and tasted was also exhilarating.
The embarrassing part was the way he’d pulled away from her, as if her touch had been distasteful.
They certainly hadn’t done anything wrong. They were both adults and a few kisses didn’t amount to much.
She frowned. It wasn’t the kisses; it was the emotion behind them. It was her need, her attraction to him and the hungry way he had responded to her—at least until he had pulled away.
He was her neighbor, though, and out here neighbors depended on each other, so she had to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Besides, Sam liked him and he seemed to like her son. She would get past this awkwardness for Sam’s sake. She simply had to remember that being neighborly didn’t mean being overly friendly or begging for kisses. And it especially didn’t mean she had the right to pry into his personal demons or into whatever it was that made him so withdrawn.
After she finished her tasks, she locked the house and climbed into her Jeep. As she turned toward the road, she saw that her grass had been replaced and some petunias had been planted to replace the ones Caleb’s cattle had destroyed. These were pink, though, instead of purple. Maybe the nursery had been out of purple ones. She had to smile at the thought of Caleb wheeling a cartful of pink petunias around the store. She would thank him for replacing the ruined plants. It would give her something to talk to him about as she tried to establish some kind of neighborly rapport with him.
When she reached the ranch, she saw that Caleb’s truck was parked in its usual place in front of the house. So, unless he’d gone out on his horse, she knew he was home.
Bertie didn’t greet her arrival with his usual single bark. She thought maybe he was accustomed to the sound of her Jeep coming up the drive. Her knock went unanswered, so she decided to check the barn.
When she stepped inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light then scanned the rafters for the cats. They weren’t to be seen. By the door, she saw that their food and water dishes were in the same place and her cat carrier had been set to one side. Next to it sat a humane cat trap, which Caleb must have borrowed from Don Parkey.
She considered that for a moment and decided it was a positive sign. He had expected her to come back. That’s why he’d gotten the trap. He had kept his promise by replacing her ruined plants and he depended on her to do what she’d promised: catch the mama cat and take her in to be spayed.
A faint smile touched her lips. In spite of his prickly nature and his desire to be left alone, Caleb knew he could depend on her.
That gave her confidence to continue her search for him.
“Caleb,” she called out as she walked farther into the barn. There was no answer.
Laney became aware of a high-pitched whining noise coming from a room at the back of the barn, which she hadn’t noticed in her misguided attempt to lure the cat into the carrier a few days ago. It was a tack room and the sound she was hearing was a drill.
The noise stopped as she approached the door, which was open part way, then started up again when she pushed the door wide.
Caleb stood with his back to the door. Shafts of sunlight streamed in around him and specks of dust floated in the still air, bathing him in a warm glow.
Laney’s heart did a slow roll in her chest when she saw that he was shirtless against the heat. He was bent over a couple of sawhorses where he had redwood fence slats balanced. He was drilling holes in them.
His movements were sure, easy, as if he’d done this many times before and could do it as long as he wanted. The muscles in his arms and back flexed and stretched in turn.
She knew she really shouldn’t be watching him when he didn’t know she was there. But she was enjoying this too much.
The drill went silent as Caleb shut it off. He turned slightly, stretching out his right arm to grab another drill bit from a box balanced on one of the slats. When Laney saw that the skin on his right side was red and puckered, she gasped audibly.
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