Caleb suppressed a laugh as Sam wrapped his arms around his leg—at least it was the good one—and hung on. The kid had more strength than Caleb would have suspected.
“Don’t let her get me,” Sam begged, hiding his head in the back of Caleb’s thigh and, no doubt, squeezing his eyes shut.
As Laney stopped the Jeep and jumped out, Caleb reached down and attempted to peel the boy off his leg. “Sam, you did something wrong and you have to face up to it.”
“Nuh-uh,” Sam responded, holding on tight.
Laney approached with the sharp, quick steps of an angry mom. She had a look on her face that Caleb remembered receiving from his own mother. Hoping to head her off, he held up his hand and said, “He’s all right.”
“Temporarily!” she said, rocking to a stop in front of him. Her anger brought high color to her cheeks and a spark to her eyes.
“Take a breath,” he recommended, then, leaning against the truck, he braced himself again so that he could bend over to pry Sam’s arms away from his leg. “Come on, sport,” he said in a soothing voice he didn’t even know he possessed. “You have to come out and face the music.”
“Don’t like music,” Sam answered.
“You still have to listen to your mom.”
Reluctantly, Sam let Caleb peel him away, though he still had one arm wrapped around his leg. The little boy stood with his head down, sliding one foot back and forth in the dirt.
“What did you do that you weren’t supposed to do?” Laney demanded, crouching in front of her son. Placing her hand under his chin, she raised his head until he was looking into her eyes.
Caleb could see that she was really angry. Obviously, Sam could see it, too.
“You said we could share our cookies with other people.”
“Sa-am,” she warned, stretching his name out. “What did you do that you weren’t supposed to do?”
He peeked up at her and then looked down at the dirt again. “I brung Bertie and Mr. Ransom some cookies, ’cept Bertie ate all of ’em.”
“No. What you did that you weren’t supposed to do was to come over here at all. You didn’t have permission.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy.” Sam hung his head, the very picture of abject apology.
Caleb watched her expression, seeing the play of emotions as she tried to decide what to do about this defiant son of hers. He hoped she never decided to take up playing poker. She’d lose on the first hand, Caleb thought with wry amusement.
Dismay and frustration chased exasperation across her face. The brown of her eyes deepened to almost black. She stood with her hands on her hips, her head thrust forward, her dark hair drifting around her shoulders as she looked at her son. She took in a mighty breath then exhaled slowly.
Caleb could tell she was weighing the various forms of punishment, trying to find one that would convince Sam he needed to obey. She was so distressed and stymied that he felt a pang of pity for her—an emotion he didn’t want to feel. Between her and this boy of hers, he felt like he was drowning—and he’d only known them for a couple of weeks.
This was way out of hand and he didn’t know what to do. He’d tried to make it clear that he didn’t want company, didn’t want other people around at all. Things had been fine, wonderful in fact, until the two of them had moved in next door. He’d kept to himself and nobody had bothered him. But Sam was having none of that. And every time Sam showed up, his attractive mother showed up, too. He could deal with the boy much easier than he could deal with the mom.
“Sam,” Laney finally said, “you can’t come over here. Mr. Ransom has work to do. Jobs that need to be finished every day.”
Eyes bright, Sam looked up. “Jobs? You mean like helping? Helping is a job. You said.”
“Um, well, yes, but...”
“I could help Mr. Ransom.”
“No, Sammy. You can’t.”
Caleb watched her shoulders slump. Laney’s struggle to make her son understand was defeating her. Being a single mom wasn’t easy, he knew, especially with a lively boy like this one.
“I could! I could!” Sam insisted. “It’s my job.” He whirled around, his gaze scanning the ground. Spying Caleb’s tools, he dashed over and lifted a wrench, though it took two hands to do so. Moving back to them, he said proudly, “See, Mom. I can give Mr. Ransom his tools.” He looked up at the two adults, tears swimming in his eyes. “And I can play with Bertie.”
Laney’s face creased with compassion as she crouched in front of him again. “No, Sammy. You can’t.”
Caleb stared at the little boy in dismay. He opened his mouth to tell Sam in no uncertain terms that he had to stay away, and then couldn’t believe the words that actually came out.
“Sure, Sam. I could use a little help around here.”
Sam’s head snapped up and Laney let out a squawk of surprise as she rose. “What?” she said. “What do you mean?”
His gaze shot to meet hers. She was staring at him in horrified wonder, asking what on earth he’d been thinking.
Darned if he knew. For some crazy reason, though, he thought the idea had merit, so he blundered on.
“Bertie could use the company.” He glanced around, trying to find the place where his good sense had gone to hide out. “And...and Sam’s right. I could use some help. Like when I was working on the truck right now. If you’d been there to hand me tools, it would have been easier.”
He looked from Laney’s dazed expression to Sam’s overjoyed one. Well, he’d started this now and he couldn’t back out of it. He carefully avoided making eye contact with Laney as he pointed a finger at Sam. “But you are never, ever, to go under or around or on top of any animal or piece of equipment on this place unless I’m there. And you don’t ever come over here unless your mom brings you or I come pick you up. Agreed? And you don’t ever go into the pasture, and especially not near the spring.” He held out his hand.
Sam looked at him, obviously trying to process all the words that had come pouring out of this man who up until now had been relatively silent. The boy broke into a grin and reached out his hand to shake.
That was when Laney found her voice, thready and squeaky though it was. “Sam, why don’t you play with Bertie for a minute while I talk to Mr. Ransom?”
Seeing the fire in her eyes, Caleb wondered if he should be wearing body armor. He didn’t think he was going to like this “talk” at all.
“Okay,” Sam said, trotting over to where Bertie, ever ready for a nap, had made himself comfortable in a little patch of grass beneath a mulberry tree. “Bertie, guess what! I get to come work here and see you all the time.” He fell down beside the dog to pet him and whisper in his ear.
Caleb heard Laney’s quiet moan of distress and his attention swung back to her stricken face.
She stepped closer to him and whispered, low and fierce, “What were you thinking?”
He lifted his hands and then let them fall to his sides. “Give it some thought. This might be a good idea.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head as she advanced on him. “A good idea. Are you completely crazy? You didn’t even ask me and you offered my four-year-old a job?”
When all else fails, he thought, bluster. “You’re right, I should have talked to you about it, but you looked a little frustrated with him, and if he’s going to be coming over here, anyway, it might as well be to do something worthwhile—planned—not something he’ll get in trouble for. Isn’t it better than having him come through the pasture or ride down the road?”
Color washed into her face. Boy, she really was mad. “It’s better if he learns to obey.”
“As I see it, we’re zero for three in trying to keep him from coming over here.”
“We? You mean me.” She clapped a hand to her chest and thrust out her jaw. “You think I can
’t control my son, keep him safe? Do you plan to report me to Monette?”
“Who? Oh, you mean that woman who was here. No, of course not.” Caleb wished he’d never started this. “I thought I could help.”
Laney threw a hand out in a wide arc. “Two weeks ago you were telling us to stay off your property and now you’re trying to help.”
Caleb stepped closer and lowered his voice into a fierce whisper. His dark eyes bored into hers. “I think we’re past the point of either of you staying off my property. I seem to recall we were in my barn yesterday kissing and—”
“That’s got nothing to do with this!”
“Of course it does, even if it’s something neither one of us wants. There is no possibility that Sam will stay away—or you, either, for that matter—so it might as well benefit both of us.”
Red stained her already flushed cheeks and her eyes shot angry daggers at him. “You’re undermining my authority.”
“Baloney.”
So furious at the way he dismissed her concerns, she couldn’t even form a sentence.
Taking advantage of that, he said, “Besides, if he’s here, we’ll know he’s safe. At least this way I can control the situation.”
“Since I obviously can’t.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Spinning around, she called Sam, who jumped to his feet and scampered to join her. The tone in her voice brooked no disobedience. She hustled him into the Jeep and strapped him in, then boosted his bicycle into the back and quickly got behind the wheel and sped away.
Caleb watched them go, a tangle of emotions twisting his gut. He hadn’t meant to make her so mad. Every step he took with her seemed to be wrong.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT TOOK LANEY a good half hour to calm down. As soon as they got home, Sam took one look at her face, ran into his room and shut the door. She spent the time sweeping the kitchen and washing up the cookie-baking dishes.
“Now all of a sudden this man that I didn’t even know a few weeks ago is trying to tell me how to raise my son?” she seethed aloud. “When did this happen? How did this happen? He made it obvious from the very beginning that he didn’t want us around. There were moments when it seemed like he could barely bring himself to even look at Sam. And now he wants to hire him?”
Even though it made her squirm with embarrassment, she couldn’t deny that Caleb had been right about their kissing yesterday. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt an undeniable attraction to him. Did he feel attracted to her or was it only a matter of proximity? She was the only woman around so he’d felt free to kiss her?
No, she didn’t think that was it, but it only added to the snarl of emotions in this situation.
“I’m not going to allow this,” she went on, stomping around the kitchen. “I’m not going to let Sam spend time over there, get involved with Caleb, come to depend on him, want his company...”
She sank onto a kitchen stool. “Oh, who am I trying to kid? I’m the one who wants those things, but he had no right to offer Sam a job!”
She wasn’t going over there. She wasn’t going to try being neighborly or to get involved with him at all. Whatever he did was his own business and none of hers, just as what she did with her son was her business.
She was doing her best with Sam. She was! Raising a four-year-old on her own was hard, but she knew what she was doing. There was no reason for Caleb to interfere.
Laney would keep Sam away if it killed her—as soon as she caught that darned mama cat.
* * *
WHEN SHE FELT that she wouldn’t be a danger to herself, her son and every other driver on the road, she put Sam and the baked goods into the Jeep and headed for her parents’ house.
As soon as she lifted Sam down from the Jeep, he dashed up to the front door and into the house. Laney followed him with her containers of cookies. Inside the living room, she found Vivian fussing over her banana tree. Laney had seen it yesterday when she’d picked up Sam, and had been pleased to see it hadn’t yet started to droop. In fact, it seemed to be thriving.
Vivian turned to give hugs to Sam and Laney and then indicated her new plant and the tiny green spears of fruit that were sprouting. “Isn’t it beautiful? And it’s producing a bumper crop of bananas. I think I’ll order another one or two. Can’t you simply imagine all the healthy, delicious fruit we can all have? We’ll never have to buy bananas again.”
“That’s good, Grandma,” Sam said before dashing off to the hall closet to find the box of toys Vivian kept there for her grandchildren.
Laney smiled at her mother, imagining the crates of bananas that were about to invade their lives. “Why don’t you wait to see how well this one does, Mom, before you buy more?”
Vivian looked astounded at her daughter’s suggestion. “It’s doing beautifully! Why would I wait to buy more?”
Laney thought of all the plants that had been sacrificed to serve her mother’s enthusiasms, but decided not to dampen Vivian’s happiness over this one. Besides, it was her own money she was spending.
Instead she indicated the containers in her hands. “I brought cookies for the bake sale.”
“Oh, wonderful!”
Vivian whisked them out of her hands and into the kitchen. She scrubbed her hands and then began separating the cookies into groups of one dozen, placing them on attractive paper plates, which Laney then wrapped securely in plastic wrap. The entire time, Vivian continued to talk about her banana plant, thrilled with the idea of succeeding in growing something.
Laney listened, smiling in acknowledgment of Vivian’s passion and thinking how much she admired her mom’s perseverance in trying to get something green to grow. Vivian never gave up, convinced that if she could only find the right combination of plant, soil, water, fertilizer and light, she could be a master grower of houseplants, if not a master gardener.
Vivian was petite and plump, appearing much younger than her sixty-two years, her hair dyed blond in her attempt to fight aging. She was what Laney wanted to be—content, sure of herself and her convictions. She had always worked with an economy of motion that Laney envied, never seeming to hurry but accomplishing a great amount of work in a short time. She had loved her career as a high-school counselor and had, in fact, been the one to inspire Laney to become a teacher.
Vivian was so engrossed in what she was saying now, that she didn’t hear a truck stopping out front. Laney did, though, and glanced out to see Ethan and his family approaching. Sam heard them, too, and ran out to meet them.
Once her monologue had wound down and she had her mind off her new love affair with the banana tree, Vivian glanced up with a smile, took one look at Laney’s face and said, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is Sam okay?”
Laney finished wrapping the last of the cookies, then waved her hand dismissively. “We’re fine.”
“Then what is it? I can tell something’s wrong.” Vivian searched her expression, her motherly instincts rushing forward.
Laney knew she would have to tell her. Vivian wouldn’t let it go until she did. Before she could begin, though, Ethan sauntered into the kitchen with Sam on his shoulders. Jenny followed with Shane and Logan. Ethan wasn’t a tall man—none of the men in the Crown family were—but he’d made a big show of dipping his knees as he came through the doorway, warning Sam to watch his head. Sam had laughed and ducked his head, but reached up to slap his hand on the top of the door frame.
“Laney,” Ethan said, “your son tells us he’s got a job. Isn’t there a law against putting four-year-olds to work?” He reached up and hooked an arm around Sam, easily flipping him to the floor.
“That’s what I’m upset about,” Laney said, looking at her mom. While Ethan and Jenny pulled out chairs and sat at the kitchen table, she went on to tell them abou
t her encounters with her neighbor, ending in his crazy offer to give Sam a job. She didn’t mention the kisses. “I don’t understand how he could have come up with such an idea and why he didn’t discuss it with me first. Does he think he has to step in and take over because I can’t take care of my son?”
The three boys lost interest in the adults’ conversation and went to play with the toys.
“I doubt that’s what was on his mind, Laney,” Ethan said.
Laney looked at her brother. “The problem is that I don’t know what’s on his mind or why he’s going along with the idea.”
“Maybe he likes having Sam around the place, so he’s not so lonely,” Jenny suggested. “Ethan told me about him. That he’s single and lives alone with his dog.”
Frowning, Laney looked at her sister-in-law and considered that. Jenny was from a large family and couldn’t imagine having no one around.
“I didn’t think he minded being alone. From the beginning, he said he didn’t want us at his place, but...”
“That’s changed?” her mother suggested.
Laney nodded as she thought how it had changed, what she had done to make it change, although that hadn’t been her intention.
“Remember what I said before.” Ethan crossed to her and gave her a one-armed hug. “That you know better than anybody that what people say they want and what they really want are often two very different things. Maybe Ransom didn’t know what he was missing until you and Sam started showing up around his place.”
“Maybe,” she admitted. “I’ll have to think about this before I decide what to do.”
Ethan gave her a hard look and started to say something more, but the boys came running into the room, begging for cookies, and the conversation broke up.
It was just as well, Laney decided. Her emotions were in such a snarl that she didn’t know which one to untangle first. Uppermost was her anger with Caleb for suggesting she couldn’t keep her son safe even though that very thing was the driving force in her life. Next was the push-pull of her attraction to him, something she hadn’t asked for and didn’t want.
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