Caleb whirled around, the drill held out in front of him like a weapon. Eyes narrowed, he took a quick step forward as if to defend himself. When he saw that it was Laney, he raised the tip of the drill into the air and said, “What are you doing? Sneaking up on me like that? I could have hurt you.”
She held out her hands as if to soothe him. “I...I didn’t mean to startle you. You didn’t hear me when I called and...” She couldn’t take her eyes from the scars on his chest. They were like the ones on his face. No doubt, the ones on his leg were even worse.
Seeing where her attention was focused, Caleb placed the drill on top of the wood he was working with and grabbed his shirt from a nearby hook. He pulled it on and quickly buttoned it. All the while, he kept his eyes downcast.
For some reason Laney thought of a knight buckling on his armor, making sure he was invulnerable to injury.
He didn’t say anything, only waited for her to speak. She finally managed. “I came to tell you thanks for the work you’ve done in my yard,” she said. “And I’ll come back to catch that cat. I see you got the trap. Did you get it from Don?”
He nodded—one abrupt movement of his head—but still didn’t say anything. He only watched her, as if waiting for some kind of reaction. Did he think she was going to run away screaming because she’d seen his scars?
She pressed her palms together in front of her, smiled awkwardly and gave a little nod. “That should work fine, then. The trap, I mean.”
He still just watched her.
This was like trying to have a conversation with a chunk of granite, she thought in despair.
She felt as if her forced smile was plastered onto her face in the most fake manner possible. “Okay, well, then... I’ll be on my way. Gotta pick up Sam and get some groceries. I’m completely out of milk and breakfast cereal, Sam’s main sources of nutrition and—”
“Was it bad?”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“The fire. Was it bad?”
He was asking a question, one that almost seemed personal. She answered cautiously, not wanting to send him scuttling back into his shell. “Not as bad as some I’ve seen. No danger to homes.”
He looked at her for several seconds. “That’s not what neighbors do, you know.”
“What?” she asked in complete bewilderment. Was there something wrong with him that he couldn’t stick to a topic?
He tilted his head in the direction of her place. “You insisted that I give you my number so we could keep in touch if necessary. Going off to fight a fire isn’t on your list of things to tell your neighbor?”
Heat rushed into her face. “Oh, I didn’t think about it,” she said, flustered. “When I lived in the apartment in town, my neighbors all knew when I was called out because the walls were paper thin and I had one who broadcast it all over—”
“Doesn’t matter.” He held up a hand. “But don’t lecture me on keeping in touch if you don’t plan to do it.”
“Yes, of course.” She felt stupid. He was right.
“I took those flowers over there and you weren’t home.”
She studied his expression. Was he mad? Sulky? What? She felt as though she was walking on eggshells.
“Again, thank you for that,” she said quickly, afraid he would interrupt again, though she didn’t know why that bothered her. At least he was talking.
Frowning, he turned, picked up the drill again, inspected the bit, set it back down, turned and looked at her once again. “I didn’t know where you were until I saw Sam in town with your mom and dad.”
She smiled at the mention of her son. “Oh, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Sam yet and so he didn’t tell me—”
His gaze met hers. “Firefighting, Laney? That’s what you were doing?”
“Um, yes. That’s my summer job.”
“It’s dangerous.” He gave her a fierce look, his dark eyes boring into her. “You’ve got a little boy.”
Her jaw dropped. She could hardly think of what to say. Anger began to spark. “I’m well aware of that.”
“He needs you.”
“And I’m attempting to provide for—”
“What if something happened to you?”
She clapped her hands on her hips and stuck out her chin. “My family would take care of him. I have a will, life insurance...”
“It’s dangerous,” he repeated. “Fire, sparks, falling trees, wind, flashover fires.”
“I’ve been very well trained and I’ve had three years of experience,” she answered tersely, taking a step forward. She didn’t like being on the defensive, and she really didn’t like it when someone tried to tell her what to do. “I’ve been on the same team the whole time. They’re excellent and we always look out for each other.”
Not seeming to even hear her, he ran his hand through his hair in a jerky movement. As if restless, he turned and walked away a few steps, then turned back to her. “You never know what’s around the corner or five clicks down the road.” His hand shot out, punching the air for emphasis. “You don’t know what’s going to happen, what might blow up, where or when things might go wrong.”
Through a fog of mystification and anger, Laney realized that he was worried about her and didn’t want to be. But there was more than worry behind it.
“My team and I—we always look out for each other,” she repeated, her voice taking on a gentler tone.
“They can’t see everything. They can’t be everywhere even if they want to be.”
With a flash of insight, she understood his concern. Her annoyance vanished and her lips curved into a smile. She took a step closer to him and held out her hands, palm up. “Caleb, no one was shooting at us.”
She heard his breath hitch in his chest. His gaze shifted away from hers.
For a moment Laney didn’t know what to say for fear he would shut himself off. He probably felt embarrassed because he’d overreacted, but that was what made it so touching. He was trying his best to be tough, uncaring, inaccessible, but it was getting harder for him. He probably hated that, but she saw it as a good sign. She wanted to drive a wedge into the cracks forming in his wall.
Laney reached out and placed a hand on his arm. The muscles jumped beneath her fingers. “Thank you for caring about Sam. About us.”
He didn’t meet her eyes, didn’t answer. He shook his head.
“Don’t deny it, Caleb. It’s good that you care about us.”
“No. No, it isn’t.” His voice was gruff.
Her hand tightened on his arm, turning him to face her.
“Don’t, Laney.”
The pace of her heart picked up. “Don’t what, Caleb? Care about you? Too late. I do, and so does Sam.”
“Don’t care about me. Don’t touch me,” he answered, though he didn’t try to shake her off or to move away.
Forget about a fire being dangerous, she thought. This was dangerous. Excitement began to build as she faced the challenge of breaching his defenses. She tilted her head and gave him a steady look. Her smile was meant to provoke him and her tone held the barest hint of mockery. “Why not, Caleb? What do you think might happen?”
This time he really looked at her, meeting her gaze, touching on the way strands of the dark hair that had escaped her braid and curled around her face. His eyes grew dark with purpose. When he spoke, his voice was low. “Haven’t you played with enough fire this week?”
Her smile widened. “Apparently not.”
“Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“Stop telling me don’t.”
He pulled her to him, locking one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist. She couldn’t have moved away if she’d wanted to, and she certainly didn’t want to. To let him know that, she slipped her arms up around h
is neck and smiled into his eyes.
“Don’t—”
“I told you, stop telling me don’t.”
His mouth tilted into one of his rare smiles, as if he was pleased with her answer, and then his lips touched hers.
In spite of her absorption with Caleb, Laney became aware of a faint noise outside. It took her a moment to realize it was the sound of a vehicle coming up the drive and parking.
Wherever Bertie was on the property, he gave one of his characteristic barks in greeting, alerting them that someone was coming.
She turned her face from Caleb and tried to catch her breath. He chased her lips with his own, but she held him off.
“Caleb,” she said shakily, “we have to stop. There’s someone here.”
His head came up, looked around and then back at her. “I didn’t hear...”
She grinned. “You were otherwise occupied.”
He shook his head as if coming out of a fog. “I always hear. You distract me.”
And he obviously didn’t think that was a good thing. The warmth she’d been feeling cooled and dismay took its place. What had she been thinking? That a few kisses from her would suddenly turn him into a warm, social human being who would want to be around other people?
Her heart sank. It would take more than that, much more, but she didn’t know what. She hated that he was brushing her aside this way. As it had the last time they’d kissed, it embarrassed her and made her angry.
“You distracted me, too,” she said. “I only came to say I’ll take care of that cat tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to...”
She gave him a warning look. “I’ll take care of the cat tomorrow, Caleb. And in the meantime, maybe you should go see who’s invading your privacy out there.”
His jaw tightened as if he was biting back his words. He turned away from her and left the tack room.
Laney wrapped her arms over her stomach and stood for a minute, waiting for her heart rate to slow down and her sense of annoyance and betrayal to ease. She had to stay away from him. She admitted that she was attracted to him, and only heaven knew why. He was solemn, often surly, distant and puzzling.
But he was a puzzle she seemed bent on solving, a confusing jumble of standoffishness, need, prickly independence and vulnerability. He made her want to know more about him and never see him again. He was endlessly challenging.
And he kissed like a dream.
“You’re a pathetic, love-starved woman, Laney,” she muttered, smoothing her clothes and hair and stomping out behind Caleb.
To her complete shock, she found Monette Berkley standing in the yard talking to Caleb as her gaze darted around, taking in the barn, the house and especially the man.
Monette was dressed in another of her drab suits, this one a muddy green. Laney didn’t know how she could wear an outfit like that in the Arizona summer heat, especially since it was obvious she was suffering. Her face was red and sweaty, huge half-moons of perspiration spread down the sides of her jacket, and the thick, black hair that was falling out of a clip was plastered to her face and neck.
When Laney emerged from the barn, Monette rounded on her. “I came over to see your new place, but when I drove by, I saw your Jeep so I knew you were here.” Her attention focused on Laney’s flushed face. Immediately her eyes narrowed. She looked quickly from Laney to Caleb and back again.
Caleb met the woman’s gaze steadily while Laney could feel heat rising in her face. Annoyed with herself for her reaction, she looked at Monette squarely and said, “It’s best to call before you come in case I’m not home.”
“I don’t have your number.”
Laney didn’t offer to give it to her.
Monette raised her chin haughtily as her gaze traveled over Laney, finally landing accusingly on her face. “And you’ve probably been off fighting fires.”
“That’s really none of your business.” Laney hated the defensive note in her voice.
“It is if you’re neglecting your son.” Monette grasped the lanyard that hung around her neck and waved the badge that identified her as a social worker with the Department of Child Safety. She considered it proof of her right to interfere.
“Is that why you’ve been hanging around out here, Monette? To see if I’m neglecting my son?”
“The welfare of the children in this county is my responsibility. I can’t shirk my duty,” Monette responded without actually answering the question. “The people of Arizona are depending on me to make sure children are properly cared for by their parents.”
“I certainly don’t neglect my son!”
Monette sniffed. “It’s my job to make sure that you don’t.”
Fury choked Laney and she fought for control as Caleb stepped forward. Before he could say anything, the three of them were distracted by a truck and horse trailer that turned off the road and rumbled up the drive. Laney recognized Don Parkey behind the wheel.
Monette stared at the rig as it pulled in, then flinched in alarm when a loud whinny split the air. The crash of hooves against the inside of the horse trailer had her turning once again to Laney.
“Mr. Ransom, are those horses coming here?” Monette’s already pale face had whitened even further.
“Probably. Why?”
“They’re dangerous.” Monette’s mouth worked as if she was trying to form words but no more came out.
“That’s why the vet is bringing them out here, so they won’t be around too many people.”
Monette barely seemed to hear what he was saying. “You be sure you keep Sean away from those wild horses,” she warned, lifting a shaking finger to point at the trailer.
“Sam,” Laney said through gritted teeth. “His name is Sam.”
Monette didn’t respond. Another loud squeal from one of the animals had her scuttling toward her car. Laney wondered if Monette had realized she’d overstayed her welcome, but she doubted it. The woman never noticed or cared what other people thought.
“What was that about?” Caleb asked as Monette sped away and Don came to a stop. “I saw her in town when I saw Sam with your parents. She was asking about you then.”
Laney saw red. “She was my neighbor in town. She’s always sticking her nose in my business. One time when Sam was about two and a half, I was taking him and his tricycle to the park. While I was locking my door, he climbed on his trike and headed for the stairs. Monette let out a shriek and I grabbed him. While I was glad she let me know he was in danger, she seems to have seen that episode as her license to tell me how to raise my son. She’s a social worker, so she thinks she has the right to tell everyone else—well, mostly me—what to do. She considers herself an expert in child welfare.” Laney took a breath, trying to calm herself. “The only good thing is that I hardly ever see her now.”
“She doesn’t look you in the eye when she talks to you.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Laney acknowledged, wondering where this was going.
Before either of them could say anything else, Don hopped out of the truck. Eager to forget about Monette, she turned to greet him. The vet had grown up in Sweetsilver, as she had, but he was several years older than she was. He was married and had four children under the age of ten. One of them usually accompanied him when he took a trip away from the office in the summer, but he was alone today.
Even though he wasn’t yet forty years old, was a licensed veterinarian and had graduated summa cum laude from the university, he appeared to be the ultimate Arizona cattleman. He had cattle of his own, drove a truck wherever he went, wore a cowboy hat, pressed jeans and rattlesnake-skin boots. Seeing him always made Laney smile.
“Hello, Laney.”
When she returned the greeting he turned to Caleb. “You catch that cat yet, Ransom? You want me to try again? I don’t have time
right now, but...”
“I should go,” Laney said. “Have to pick up my son. I’m running a bit late.” She couldn’t wait to get back to her normal life. She headed for her Jeep.
“No, haven’t caught the cat yet, Don,” Caleb answered in a lazy tone, “but Laney offered to help.”
She swung around and gave him a look that asked why he wanted to involve her in this conversation. His face was unreadable.
“Oh?” Don looked at her and then his gaze swiftly traveled between the two of them.
Oh, no, she thought. He sensed something. His big, happy grin confirmed it. He actually put his hands together gleefully.
“That’s good. That’s really good,” he said. “Laney, when you catch old mama cat, bring her in and I’ll take care of her. No point in adding to the feline population any more than we have to.”
Don looked from one to the other of them again, and his grin grew even bigger. “That’s good,” he said again. “That’s really good.”
Laney knew he was seeing something that wasn’t actually happening, but she didn’t know what to say. The three of them stood looking at each other, Don grinning like a father whose child had done something brilliant, Caleb and her looking like two kids who’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
Finally, Caleb said, “Don, did you bring me some more horses?”
“What? Oh, oh, yes. A couple of geldings, both of them lame, which is why they were abandoned in the desert. Idiot smugglers can’t be bothered to learn how to pack an animal—put on a sawbuck or a decker, distribute the load, make it easier on the animals so they last longer.”
“Don,” Caleb asked mildly, “you planning to coach drug smugglers on how to load a pack animal?”
Don ignored him, caught up in his diatribe. “That’s probably why these two pulled up lame and the criminals turned ’em loose...won’t even spare a bullet and put them out of their misery. But these two didn’t need to be put down. They’ll heal if they’re given enough time and attention.”
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