“I should go,” he said, though he made no move to get up.
“There’s no hurry.”
“So what did your mother have for you that’s going to change your life?” he asked.
Laney grinned. “A banana tree. It’s even got little green bananas on it.”
He stared at her. “A banana tree?”
“Yes. My mom has finally found a plant she can’t kill. The fact that it pays her back with fruit is a bonus.” Laney told him about the unhappy results of Vivian’s attempts at gardening.
“She’s got banana trees for my brother, Ethan, too, but he and his family are going on vacation tomorrow, so they’ll be spared this for a week or so. The lucky devils,” she sighed.
When he chuckled, Laney felt a shiver skitter up her spine. She’d had similar reactions to him all evening, exactly as she’d had every time he’d kissed her—weeks ago now. But it confused her because her attraction to him was tempered by wariness and an unwillingness to become involved with someone who wouldn’t let her share in his thoughts and feelings. And she had a son to consider. She couldn’t let just any man who came along into her life—not that Caleb had expressed a desire to be allowed into hers and Sam’s life. His attitude toward them was more one of benign tolerance than anything else, in spite of his occasional snappiness since he’d broken his leg.
This would all be so much easier, Laney thought, if she wasn’t so intrigued by him, attracted to him.
“But you’ve got a green thumb,” Caleb said. “Your plants are doing great. Didn’t inherit that from your mom, huh?”
She shook her head. “Actually, I’m adopted. They’re really my aunt and uncle. My mother, Lauraine, was Vivian’s sister. She kept me with her, dragging me around from place to place, job to job, man to man, until she got here to Sweetsilver. I didn’t even know I had any family, or what family was, really, but right here in Sweetsilver was my great-uncle Calvin Reynolds, Aunt Vivian and my uncle Frank with their son Ethan...” Laney’s voice trailed off as she remembered the crazy insecurity of her young life.
“Lauraine dropped me off for what was supposed to be a few days. She never came back. We found out later she’d died in Las Vegas, some kind of infection. Nobody knows for sure, but maybe she knew she was sick when she left me, and we certainly don’t know why she went to Vegas. It’s a nine-hour drive from here.” She looked up and met his eyes. “I have no idea who my father is. My birth certificate says his name is John Smith and he’s from Los Angeles, but my uncle Calvin—the one who left me this place and the one who raised my mother and my mom, Vivian—said that Lauraine really didn’t know who my father was.”
It all came out in a rush and Laney released a breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding.
Caleb didn’t say anything for several seconds, only watched her with those dark eyes that seemed to take in so much and reveal so little. “I’m sorry. That must have been tough on you, a little kid.”
If she’d thought he was going to tell her anything about his background, about himself, in exchange, she was disappointed.
“It was tough,” she said. “But I was lucky. I ended up with a family who loved me and provided for me. I had everything I needed or wanted, including an education.” She spread her hands wide to encompass her house. “As I said, my great-uncle left me this place in his will. So I probably had a better life than I would have had if my mother had kept me with her.”
She had tried to recite the history of her young life in a matter-of-fact way, as she’d done many times before when she’d come to know a friend well enough to share it. But it hadn’t come out so matter-of-factly here. Though she wasn’t sure why, Laney felt that she needed to make Caleb understand how grateful she was to her family for the life they’d given her.
He tilted his head, regarding her with those solemn, dark eyes. “But you’ve always wondered what it would be like to know your mother and to know why she left you.”
Laney answered with a nod and a little shrug.
“She wanted something better for you than what she could provide,” Caleb said. “And even if she didn’t know how sick she was, or what was wrong with her, she wanted the best for you.”
“I’d like to believe that. I guess in everyone’s life there are questions that never have answers—at least not ones we can understand.”
She glanced up and saw pain flicker in Caleb’s eyes, but she knew it wasn’t physical. Would he ever talk about it? Was she expecting far too much since they were only neighbors and sort-of, almost friends?
He regarded her silently for a minute. “I know this is none of my business, and I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where’s Sam’s father?”
Laney’s lips quirked into a sardonic smile. “Dr. James Carson is in San Francisco.”
“Doctor?”
She nodded. “Of philosophy. He was one of my college professors. Young, worshipful girl and a man heading into an early midlife crisis. Bad combination.” Laney pressed her palms together, trying to think of a way to say this without pain. “He thought he wanted a wife and family. Turns out he didn’t. What he really wanted was an adoring fan who lived in and also cooked and cleaned. The marriage lasted less than a year and he left before Sam was born. He’s never seen Sam.”
Laney saw Caleb’s eyes narrow and color suffuse his face, making the scar stand out in stark relief. “Bastard.”
Their eyes met and held, and she saw something in his that rattled her. It was fury, she thought, on behalf of her and her son. She also glimpsed compassion, and it was coming from a man who, a few weeks ago, hadn’t even wanted her on his property.
Caleb said, “I’m sorry about that. You deserve better and so does Sam. If that jerk could see what you’ve become, how you’ve taken care of yourself and your son, he’d be ashamed of himself.”
Laney was so surprised by his burst of candor that it was a moment before she could think of anything to say. “I’d like to think so. I do my best for Sam, but I never realized before how hard it is to be a single mom, to make all the decisions and hope they’re right.”
“Believe me, you’re making the right decisions. He’s a great kid.”
Surprised by the compliment, she smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not everyone can be a good single parent. It sounds like your birth mom couldn’t handle it, but it’s obvious that you can.”
As if he suddenly realized how out of character he was acting, Caleb’s gaze skittered away from hers. “I guess I’d better get back home. Bertie’ll be wondering what happened to me.”
Bertie wasn’t the only one, Laney thought, feeling raw with emotion at what she’d revealed and how compassionately he’d responded.
But would she ever learn anything about his life? She wondered what had happened to him, to his pinned-together leg, his chest and every other scarred part of him. How deep did those scars go and would they ever heal?
She smiled. “Are you kidding? Bertie’s probably finished off every bit of food we left and fallen asleep.” She turned toward the back door, ready to walk him out, being careful not to watch him as he got out of the chair, fearing he might be offended if she saw him struggle.
“Probably.”
It took Caleb a few minutes, but he joined her at the kitchen door. She flipped on the porch light and indicated the banana tree. “I hope I can keep that thing alive.”
“Like I said, you kept your other plants alive.”
“At least until your cows ate them.”
He grinned. “Do you want to bring Sam over tomorrow?”
“Sure.” She wanted to see him again.
Caleb nodded then paused with his hand on the door. His eyes were on the banana plant but he spoke in a quiet voice. “Berman died in Afghanistan, killed by the same IED that got me these scars. Tonig
ht was the first time I’ve talked about him.”
Caleb lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Thank you.”
Tears welled into her eyes and emotion clogged her throat. “You’re welcome,” she whispered.
Caleb’s lips curved in a smile. He lifted his hand to hold her chin for a fleeting kiss. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Laney gave him a flashlight, then watched him go, holding firmly to the railing as he descended the steps. He headed out with a wave of his hand and she turned off the porch light and stood in the dark, her fingertips covering her lips.
It wasn’t the most passionate kiss he’d given her, but it was certainly the sweetest.
* * *
SAM WAS READY to go as soon as his feet hit the floor the next morning. Laney hadn’t even had the opportunity to tell him they would be going over to Caleb’s, but he was determined that they were.
“Mr. Ransom needs my help,” he told her while he ate a bowl of cereal. He was still wearing the shorts and T-shirt that Caleb had put him to bed in last night. “And Bertie will miss me. He gets only.”
Laney smiled. “Lonely,” she corrected.
“Yeah.”
“Before we go, you have to take a bath and put on clean clothes.”
He stared at her. “Mom, cowboys like dirt.”
“But cowboys’ moms don’t.”
“But, Mom...”
“And the longer you argue, the longer it will be before we get to Caleb and Bertie’s.”
That was a thought her son couldn’t abide so he finished his cereal in record time and scooted for the bathroom.
Once he was ensconced in the tub caroling a made-up song about cows as he scrubbed, Laney fussed over what to wear. What did a woman wear when she was taking her four-year-old son to spend the day with a neighbor she found so captivating and yet disturbing?
She took her yellow cotton sundress from the closet. It was simple, sleeveless, with a full skirt and a white leather belt at the waist. “It’s not a date, Laney,” she muttered, stuffing it back into the closet. And what if Sam decided to climb up into the rafters of the barn? She couldn’t go after him in a dress.
“Jeans?” She had an expensive pair that did nice things for her behind. No, too hot for jeans.
Deciding she was being ridiculous, she pulled on a pair of tan Bermudas, a peach-colored tank top and then slipped her feet into sandals. She picked up her laptop computer and a book. She didn’t know what Sam would be doing for Caleb, but she suspected the two of them wouldn’t want her in the way. She would work on curriculum alignment for next year’s lesson plans.
Sam didn’t care that it was too hot for jeans. He insisted that was what cowboys wore, so that’s what he needed to wear, too. By the time he was dressed in a shirt with his boots and his cowboy hat, he was fairly dancing with impatience to be out the door and on the job.
Before she could get out the door to join her eager son, her phone rang. Glancing at the Caller ID, she said, “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“We’ve got to go up to Alpine. Someone broke into the cabin and we need to see what’s missing. There’s nothing of value there, so I can’t imagine what they were after.”
“Stale coffee?” Laney suggested. Her parents owned a cabin in the White Mountains, where they spent time every summer, but it had only the barest of essentials in it.
“Laney, honey,” Vivian went on, “I need you to come by the house and check on my banana trees. I’m about to harvest my first crop.”
Wincing at the mental image of the boatloads of bananas that were about to invade their lives, Laney agreed and hung up, then hurried outside.
Sam was already at the Jeep, dancing impatiently in place for her to join him.
“Let’s go, Mom. I hafta go to work.”
Laughing, she scooped him up and kissed him, although he tried to fight her off. “Mom, cowboys don’t kiss!”
“Wanna bet?” she said, thinking of the kisses she and Caleb had shared. As they started off, she noticed a car in the lane, moving away from her at a snail’s pace, as if the driver was checking out the scenery.
Laney frowned when she recognized the car. This driver wasn’t admiring the view. It was Monette Berkley, snooping around Laney’s place again. What was she hoping to find? Wrongdoing on Laney’s part? A dangerous situation for Sam? It didn’t exist. There was nothing to find.
Still, knowing her nosy former neighbor was prowling around, looking, was enough to make knots form in Laney’s stomach. She was doing everything possible to make sure that Sam was in a safe, loving environment, and there was no way Monette could prove otherwise. Laney chewed her bottom lip as she wondered if she should find out who Monette’s boss was and see what the misguided social worker was hoping to find.
With an effort, she pulled her mind away from thoughts of Monette and finished the short drive to Caleb’s place. Bertie came out to greet them, and Sam rushed to hug the dog with his usual enthusiasm. Caleb walked out of the barn and lifted his chin in greeting, the quick gesture she’d seen so many men do so many times, but it had never made her heart flutter like this.
She called to Sam and Bertie, and they raced over to where Caleb waited for them.
“What are we doing today, Mr. Ransom, huh?” Sam shouted as if he thought Caleb had gone deaf overnight.
“We’re going to ride out to check on some of the cattle, maybe put them in another pasture.”
“Okay, boss,” Sam answered, startling a laugh out of the two adults. He ran toward the truck, but Caleb called him back, redirecting him to the barn.
“I can’t drive, remember, buddy?” Caleb pointed to his leg. “But we can ride on Cisco. You want to help me saddle him?”
Sam rocked to a stop and his eyes grew huge as if he’d been presented with the most wonderful gift ever. “Yeah,” he said, ready to dash into the barn, but Caleb stopped him.
“You’re going to have to slow down, buddy. It’s not a good idea to run up to a horse, especially one who doesn’t know you very well.”
Sam nodded and began walking toward the barn with exaggerated slowness, rocking from heel to toe in his little boots, arms bent at the elbows and swinging with each step. He had a serious expression on his face as if he was sneaking up on some unsuspecting creature.
“Do you think you’ll be able to ride Cisco while wearing a cast?” Laney asked.
“Don’t know,” Caleb answered with a shrug. “Haven’t tried it yet.”
“You can’t use the stirrup, and having your leg hang down could hurt your hip,” Laney persisted.
“Or it might work just fine.” He paused and stared at her. “How did that happen?”
“What?”
His hand made a seesawing motion between them. “We seem to have switched places. You’re usually the one thinking things will work fine and I’m not so sure.”
Laney shook her head. “I don’t know how that happened.”
They grinned at each other, a warm current of understanding flowing between them.
Laney glanced around then started in alarm when she saw that Sam had detoured to the corral fence, enthralled as usual by Addie and her baby, Awesome. Even though she reminded herself that the mountain lion was long gone, she started to hurry after him.
Caleb reached out and snagged her hand, pulling her back. “Wait,” he urged. “Let’s see what Addie does. She’s much calmer than she was a few weeks ago. Seeing the mountain lion really spooked her and set her back, but Ryder Bartlett has been spending time with her.”
“Ryder’s not a little boy,” she protested.
“Still, Addie hasn’t shied from him and, look, she’s watching Sam but she’s not panicking or trying to get her filly away.”
“Petting the filly is what caused S
am to fall into the corral before, remember?”
“He’s not climbing up, trying to reach her, though. This time Awesome will probably put her face down for him. She’s as curious about him as he is about her. Let’s see what happens.”
Laney gave him a look that questioned his sanity, yet his calm assurance had her staying put and watching.
Tiny and vulnerable, Sam stood by the fence, looking in at the horses. Addie watched him, her hooves shifting in place, but she didn’t rush the fence when her filly trotted over to check out this little human. Awesome put her face down close to him and Sam reached out a tentative hand.
Laney made a low sound of distress and began once again to step forward, but Caleb’s grip on her hand held her back. “Let’s see what happens,” he repeated, his voice low and steady.
Although her heart was pounding, Laney waited and watched as her son put out his hand and touched the filly’s silky face. She whinnied softly and let Sam pet her as Addie took a few steps closer, then a few more, her concern for her baby overcoming her fear of humans. She was ready to bolt, though, and drive her baby away at the first sign of a threat.
Delighted, Sam looked back at Laney and Caleb. “She likes me, Mom,” he called. “She’s letting me pet her.”
“I can see that, Sam. Good job, honey.”
“Good job, Mom,” Caleb said quietly.
When Laney glanced back at him, she saw that he was looking at the mare. Still, she felt his words had been directed at her.
Sam held out his open hand for the filly to nuzzle, but when she snorted into it, he let out a shriek and stumbled backward, landing on his bottom. “Ew,” he said, holding up his hand. “Awesome blew her nose on my hand!”
Laughing, Laney hurried over to pick him up. “It’ll wash off. Come on, we’ll go into the house.”
When they returned a few minutes later Laney saw that Caleb had walked over to the corral. He was petting the filly with one hand, and his attention was on her, but his other hand rested, palm up, on the top rung of the corral fence in a gently inviting gesture. Addie took a few steps closer, sniffed his hand then seemed to lift something from it with her lips. Caleb chuckled.
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