“Worse luck,” he muttered, but she saw the corner of his mouth curve upward.
Laney took the crutches out of the back of the Jeep while Sam and Bertie scrambled out and ran off to play. At the hospital, she hadn’t been surprised to see that Caleb was an expert at using crutches. He’d probably had a great deal of practice when he was first wounded. She held the crutches while he stood and moved them into position. They were starting into the house when Chet and Ryder Bartlett rounded the end of the barn.
They stopped to stay hello. Caleb immediately held out his hand to father and then son, thanking them for their help.
“We’ll be over every day until you’re back on your feet,” Chet said. “But call if you need anything else.”
Laney watched Caleb, who nodded and said, “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
The pair started to turn away but then Chet looked back. “We went out to check on those two geldings in the pasture. They’re really skittish, aren’t they? And so is that mare in the corral. She wouldn’t let me near her foal.”
Caleb explained about them and the other horses he’d taken in for Don Parkey and the county. “Don’s hoping to find good homes for them.”
“I’ve got news for you, Ransom,” Chet said with a grin. “He’s already done that. They seem to like it fine right here.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Still, there’s plenty of grass and they’ll be okay in the pasture, unless...” He shot a quick glance at Laney, then another at Sam, playing nearby with Bertie.
When he paused, Chet nodded. “Yeah, I heard about what happened, and I saw the tracks, too, but not recent ones.”
Ryder also nodded. “So did I.”
He didn’t go on.
Laney looked from one to the other of them. “What? What did you see?”
Caleb gave Chet and Ryder an infinitesimal shake of his head, but Laney wasn’t letting him get away with that. The look he and Chet shared made her heart leap into her throat. “What?”
“I was going to tell you,” Caleb said. “Before this happened,” he said, indicating his crutches and cast, “I was out in the pasture near the spring and I saw some coyote tracks...”
“There are coyotes all around here.”
“...and what looked like mountain lion tracks.”
She stared at him. “You knew there was a mountain lion around and didn’t tell me?”
“I had no idea how close he was. I told Don about it and he reported it to the sheriff, but—”
“They obviously didn’t catch it since it ended up in your corral!”
“No, no they didn’t.” Caleb looked away, unable to meet her horrified gaze.
Instead, he looked at Chet, who nodded toward where Addie and her filly were placidly standing in the shade by the barn. “I saw the tracks he left the other day, but he’s probably moved on.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Caleb said a little too heartily.
Laney gave the two of them a skeptical look. “Moved on? When there’s a coyote buffet in the neighborhood?”
“Not to mention a new filly,” Ryder added, clamping his mouth shut when his dad touched his arm and shook his head.
Dismayed, Laney looked from one to the other of them, then at Addie and her filly, and then at her son. She could feel the color drain from her face. “Sam...?” was all she could manage, her mind filling with images of her heedless little boy being in danger again. “You don’t think the lion’ll come back?”
“We’ll keep an eye on Sam, Laney. We won’t let him go in the pasture by himself.”
Because she could feel all three men watching her closely, she nodded numbly. It was several seconds before she felt as if she could breathe normally again.
Once the men saw that color was returning to her face, Chet and Ryder headed for their truck with Caleb calling out thanks after them.
When the Bartletts were gone, Laney turned to Caleb and managed a shaky smile. “I think you’re making progress in the friendliness department.”
His dark gaze searched her face as if looking for reassurance that she wasn’t going to faint. “Don’t count on it,” he answered. He didn’t sound as gruff as he used to.
Smiling, Laney hurried ahead to get the door.
CHAPTER TEN
“HERE SHE COMES AGAIN, BERTIE,” Caleb said to his companion, who had hefted himself to his feet to greet the approaching Jeep with his customary single woof. “Laney’s determined to be in charge of things around here.”
Caleb frowned, knowing that her intentions were good. But matters had moved too fast since the beginning of summer. He’d been relieved when she’d been called away to a couple of fires, for a few days each time, and he’d had to depend on the Bartletts for help.
He’d come to know his neighbors. The Bartletts and some other neighbors had searched for the mountain lion, and had seen evidence of him miles away. The Game and Fish Department had finally found the cat, sedated, and relocated him high in a protected area of the White Mountains. He wouldn’t be back. One or the other of the Bartletts had been over every day to help out and had stuck around to chat.
Ryder was especially interested in anything Caleb could tell him about the army, about his tours of duty, what it had been like over there. Caleb’s heart sank a little whenever the kid brought it up. He didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to think about it, to remember. He’d answered briefly, which was more than he would have done a few weeks ago, then changed the subject each time to Ryder’s plans after he graduated from high school, or to the horse his parents had recently given him.
And Ryder’s mom, Karen, had brought him food several times, bustling into his kitchen with pies and casseroles, salads and loaves of homemade bread. He had seven of her salad bowls and casserole dishes washed and sitting on the kitchen counter waiting to be returned. With enforced idleness and too much food around, he’d gained weight, which had thrilled his mother and Laney. What was it about women that they felt they had to fatten up their men? Not that he was Laney’s man, he amended quickly.
Caleb knew everything had begun to change from the moment he’d met Laney and Sam. He hadn’t been ready for change then and he still wasn’t. Now he was five weeks into his recovery. His leg felt stronger than it had since before he was first wounded. His mother had arrived from Las Cruces the day after he’d been released from the hospital. She’d noticed the changes in him right away. Caleb didn’t know if he was or not, but he no longer felt so much of the restless anger that had been clawing at his guts for almost two years.
Strangely, he missed it. If he didn’t have that anger to hold on to, then he was going to have to fill that hole with another emotion. Like most men he knew, he didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about his emotions, so he didn’t know which one to plug into the gaping chasm. He refused to think that the hole was exactly the right size and shape for Delaney and Sam Reynolds—in fact, he fought against it.
There was something about the situation—not being able to exhaust himself with work, not being able to ride Cisco around his property, but instead having other people nearby, interacting with them, talking and carrying on more conversations than he’d had in months, and seeing Laney and Sam almost every day. Yes, there was something about this—in fact, everything about this had thrown him completely off-kilter.
But there was one really good thing about the situation. His nightmares almost never ripped through his sleep anymore, breaking him out in a sweat, torturing him. When they did, they usually started benignly with him and his men riding along in an up-armored Bradley, looking out at the endless vistas of Afghanistan. The dreams always ended the same way, though. With an explosion. But it was happening less and less and for that he was grateful.
It was ironic to him that he was better physically than he’d been in two years, but h
e still felt shaky, both mentally and emotionally. And yet, may God forgive him, he’d taken his fears out on Laney.
Two days ago, after an exhausting session in physical therapy, then a stop to get his full cast removed and a walking brace put on, Laney had driven him home. As he sat in her vehicle, turned sideways to rest his leg—and to watch her drive—it struck him yet again that he was coming to depend on her way too much.
She’d been dressed in a bright red sundress with matching sandals, her hair twisted up into one of those knots that drove him crazy because there were always tendrils sliding down her neck, curling around her throat, teasing him. And her scent, some combination of honeysuckle and rose, got to him in ways he couldn’t even define.
He’d frowned at that thought and picked a fight. “I won’t need you to take me to physical therapy anymore.”
“I don’t mind, Caleb.” She’d nodded toward the backseat. “I always take work with me. Your therapy sessions have given me a great opportunity to sit and do nothing but plan and prepare for next school year.” She’d grinned. “At least on the days I don’t have Sam with me.”
“I’ve got the walking brace now, Laney. I can drive. I can take care of everything by myself now.”
As she had turned into his driveway, she’d given him a puzzled look. “Shouldn’t you give yourself time to get used to it?”
“I’ve been in a walking brace before.” He’d known his voice was way too harsh, but he’d forged ahead. This had to stop. “I can handle everything myself now. I did before.”
He’d seen the hurt in her eyes before she lifted her chin and given him an icy glare. “I was right there at the doctor’s with you, remember? He said for you to avoid driving for another week. So that’s what you’re going to do.”
As she’d swung the Jeep in a circle in front of his steps, he’d opened the door and stepped out, then pulled his crutches from the backseat, grateful he could put them away. “You don’t have to drive me, though. In fact, don’t—”
“I keep telling you, don’t tell me don’t. And I still have to catch that mama cat. I’ll be back in two days.” Then she’d driven away without so much as a backward glance.
Watching her approach now he wondered, Why did it always have to be her? Always the one he lashed out at. Well, that was easy to answer. She was always here.
“Bertie, do me a favor,” he said. “If I say anything mean and stupid, bite me in the leg, will you? You can even bite me in my bad leg.”
But Bertie wasn’t interested in helping him out. He only wanted to be close to Sam, who leaped from the car at a full run and embraced his canine soul mate.
Sam spied an old tennis ball, which he scooped up and threw for Bertie. The ball only flew a few feet, but that was okay with Bertie, who wasn’t fond of running all that far, anyway. He picked up the ball and brought it back to Sam, who crowed with delight.
“Look, Mr. Ransom. Bertie brought me the ball!”
“I can see that. Throw it again.”
Sam complied and, seeing that boy and dog were safely occupied for the moment, Caleb turned to look at Laney, who was emerging from her vehicle at a much slower pace than her son.
Caleb knew she was mad at him, and rightly so, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the sight of those long, bare legs of hers stepping down and the swing of her hips as she bumped the door closed. He loved it when she wore shorts, and when she paired them with a tank top, he liked it even better.
But what kind of sick bastard did that make him, to stand there lusting after her when he’d been so rude to her, and with her son playing not ten feet away?
Fortunately she didn’t give him the chance to find an answer to that. She merely gave him a cool look and said, “I came to catch the mama cat and take her to Don’s office. What with one thing and another, I’ve left it way too long.”
“What’s the plan this time?” He didn’t really care what the plan was. He only wanted her to start talking to him. The last time they’d tried to catch the cat, her eyes had been lit with enthusiasm because she was convinced her idea would work without a hitch. When she’d fallen and he’d helped her catch her breath, her eyes had been full of fear, which had struck terror into him. And when he’d kissed her, her eyes had flooded with warmth. He’d liked the enthusiastic and warm expressions. The cool look she was giving him now, not so much.
“Same as the last time,” she answered in a no-nonsense tone that she probably used to great effect with her high school students. It didn’t work with him.
“Does it involve you falling off hay bales?”
She gave him a look that should have frozen him on the spot. It only made him fight a grin.
Laney reached into the backseat of her Jeep and pulled out a grocery bag. The heavy thunk of metal on metal told him it contained cans of cat food. Carrying the bag, she marched into the barn, calling out to Sam to either stay where he was, playing with Bertie, or to come into the barn.
When Sam looked up, Caleb caught his attention, winked and nodded toward the barn. Eager to see what might happen there, Sam hurried after his mother and Bertie followed.
“This may take a while,” Laney said.
“I’ve got nothing but time,” Caleb answered as he entered. He sat on a hay bale and Sam scrambled up beside him. The little boy looked at how Caleb was sitting, with his injured leg stretched out straight, and attempted the same pose. But since his legs were too short to even reach the floor, he had to be content with crossing his arms over his chest exactly as Caleb had, even making sure he had his right arm on top of the left. Bertie padded over and collapsed at their feet.
“My plan,” Laney said, “is to bait the humane trap with food, wait around for a while and then see which cat we catch. If we catch the two we don’t want, we’ll take them out and put them in the cat carrier. If we catch the mama cat, I’ll take her straight to Don’s.”
“Brilliant,” Caleb complimented her. “I’ve known battalion commanders who couldn’t come up with a plan that good. Right, Sam?”
“Right!” her son said, though Caleb knew the little boy didn’t have the foggiest clue what he was talking about.
“But that means,” Caleb pointed out, “we have to get out of here as soon as you get it baited. Or the cats will never come near it.”
“I know that,” she said, giving him a frosty glance. If he could bottle that look, Caleb figured he wouldn’t have to pay for air-conditioning in his house.
“She knows that, Mr. Ransom,” Sam said solemnly.
He liked this, Caleb decided. He liked sitting in his barn watching her ready the trap, trading barbs with her while Sam made innocent observations. It made him feel like part of a...family, he thought. And for once, the thought didn’t put him on the defensive, make him lash out.
“There, all done.” Laney straightened and picked up the grocery sack. “Sam, let’s go home. Mr. Ransom can call us when one of the cats goes into the trap.”
“Might as well stay,” Caleb said quickly, scrambling for a reason for them to do so. “This could happen pretty fast. I didn’t feed them today because I knew you’d be back.”
“Pretty sure of yourself,” she said, strolling past him and gesturing for Sam to come with her.
“No. Sure of you.” Caleb stood to follow and Bertie trotted along in the little parade. “I knew you’d keep your promise.”
They walked away from the barn and stopped beneath the mulberry tree. Sam dashed off to find the ball he’d been throwing for Bertie. Laney carefully avoided Caleb’s gaze.
“It’s almost dinnertime,” Caleb found himself blurting out. “You and Sam want to join me? I didn’t make chili.”
Her eyes flashed to his face and he saw a flicker of a smile. “What did you make?”
“Nothing yet, but Ryder Bartlett went to the gr
ocery store for me. I’ve got ground beef, hamburger buns, ears of corn. I’m not much of a cook, but I can grill.”
Laney looked at him, then over at her son, who was happily romping with Bertie. He could see the war of indecision going on in her face and stayed very still. No question she had doubts about his ability to remain civil, not shut Sam and her out. He was determined to be on his best behavior.
“Sounds good,” she said. “I’ll fix the corn.”
Turning, she called out to Sam who scampered after her, bringing Bertie with him. She strode confidently ahead, opening his front door, shooing her son and his dog inside, and generally making herself at home.
Caleb liked the fact that she didn’t coddle him, didn’t shorten her steps to match his limp or make any concessions to his handicap. What he didn’t like was knowing that she didn’t make concessions because she was still mad at him. He wondered what he’d have to do to get on her good side again. Apologize, no doubt. A mere invitation for dinner wasn’t going to be enough.
* * *
SHE WOULD HAVE to be the one to bring it up, Laney knew. She would have to tell him exactly what she’d thought of the harsh way he’d spoken to her when she was only trying to help. Oddly, it would be a whole lot easier if he wasn’t being so accommodating, so... Mr. Nice Guy Host with the Most.
He had everything together in the kitchen, as if he’d planned all along to invite her and Sam to dinner. She helped him take it all out back where the gas grill was waiting, while Sam, who’d brought Bertie’s tennis ball along, was busy throwing it. Half the time, he threw it and then ran to grab it before Bertie could get it, but Bertie didn’t seem to mind. He trotted along and waited for Sam to throw it again. Being incredibly lazy, sometimes he even sat to wait, his wagging tail sweeping an arc in the dust.
Since the house faced west, the back was shaded, giving them a cool spot away from the long, hot rays of the setting sun. There was even an old picnic table that looked as though it had been freshly painted. Laney stood looking around as she wondered where Caleb’s good manners had been hiding all of this time. Then it dawned on her that he was making amends.
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