Silver Thaw: A Mystic Creek Novel

by Catherine Anderson

  When Jeb knocked a moment later, Amanda could see him on the monitor. She hurried to the security panel to disarm the system and then moved to open the door. Jeb shouldered his way past her, closed and locked the door, and said, “You didn’t ask me to identify myself. Never open the door unless you know for sure who’s there.”

  Amanda gestured toward the monitor in the kitchen. “I knew for certain. The picture wasn’t clear enough to count your chin whiskers, but I could identify you.”

  Shedding his heavy jacket, Jeb regarded the screen. “It’s awesome, isn’t it?” He went to hang his coat on the tree, then returned to give the monitor a closer study. “Gowdy told me he installed high-end cameras, but I never expected the infrared views to be this clear.” Grinning, he added, “We’ve got four monitors like this in the house, one here, and one in my office, the living room, and the master suite. Each screen shows all the same pictures, so as we walk through the downstairs, we can keep an eye out for trouble no matter where we are.”

  Chloe turned slightly on her stool. “Mommy, you and Mr. Jeb forgot to reset the alarm.”

  Both adults moved toward the panel at once, collided, and Amanda would have been knocked off her feet if Jeb hadn’t caught her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” Amanda rubbed her shoulder. Giving him a measuring glance, she added, “I think the security system is overkill. You’re as hard as a brick. Mark wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  Jeb put a hand on the shoulder she’d just massaged. His touch made her skin burn, yet she shivered, only not from a chill. His voice pitched low for her ears only, he said, “The security system is just another layer of protection. If anything happens, lock yourself in a room and barricade the door. Downstairs, my bedroom is your best bet for moving furniture to help keep him out.”

  Amanda followed him to the panel. “I was thinking the bathroom.”

  “No. If you get caught in that side of the house, run for my office. I have some furniture in there that can be moved. Let me show you.”

  Amanda trailed behind him to the office, where he pointed out pieces of movable furniture. “Hide Chloe in here.” He reached up to grab the handle of a large cabinet Amanda had thought held office supplies. He pulled it down to reveal a Murphy bed. “I designed this for extra sleeping and never bought a mattress. Chloe’s tiny enough to fit inside, and once it’s closed, Mark will never know she’s there.”

  “Chloe comes first,” she said.

  “Damn straight.” He chucked her under the chin. “That isn’t to say I don’t count your safety as important. But in the end, we’re the adults and she’s the child. It’s our job to make sure she’s safe, and to hell with ourselves. Right?”

  This time, Amanda couldn’t blink away the tears that filled her eyes. He rubbed the spillover on her cheeks with work-roughened fingertips. “Shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’ll build a hiding place in all three rooms for you, too. It’s not that I don’t care about you.”

  Amanda couldn’t help herself; she started to giggle through the tears. “No, no, you don’t understand. This is the first time, ever, that anyone has cared as much about my daughter’s safety as I do. Until now, I had to worry alone. You are the most incredible man, Jeb Sterling. Hands down, no competitors. You’re wonderful.”

  He bent to kiss her forehead. Amanda couldn’t move or even think clearly. There it was again, the fluttering in her stomach—only this time, molten heat pooled in her pelvic area. She took in his strong shoulders, the breadth of his chest, and the powerful contours of his arms. Oh, how she wanted to sink against him and run her hands over his body. Her feminine parts were wet, and deep inside, her flesh throbbed with yearning.

  A glint crept into his eyes. He lifted a hand to smooth a tendril of hair from her cheek. “Don’t be afraid. Nothing’s going to happen between us that you don’t invite.”

  Her cheeks went hot. He knew. Was she sending out signals? That was humiliating. And even worse, he might interpret them as an unspoken invitation.

  “I’m not ready,” she blurted.

  “I know.” He ruffled her hair. “Don’t get panicky.”

  He motioned for her to follow him out of the room. Amanda had never entered the downstairs master suite. The instant she did, she couldn’t stop staring at the king-size bed. Giving herself a hard mental shake, she compared this space to the gigantic kitchen. All told, the square footage of the bedroom, his-and-her walk-in closets, and the bathroom had to be larger than the rental she and Chloe had lived in.

  “This is amazing.”

  Jeb led the way into his closet. At the back, where clothing hung from a rod, he showed her a hidden compartment, presently empty. “I meant to put in a covered safe and never got around to it. Show Chloe how to hide in here. From inside, she can get the cover back up. Mark will never think to look for her here.”

  Amanda bent to peer inside. “In a pinch, I think it’s big enough to hide me.”

  “But not big enough for both of you.” He sighed. “If I had time, I’d build a safe room and install a second phone line, buried underground.” He sent her a dark look. “That’s the first thing the bastard will try to do, cut the phone lines. I tried to hide mine, but if Mark is clever, he could find them. On Monday, we’ve got to get you a new cell phone under my account.”

  Amanda trailed behind him from the closet. “I’ll be mostly staying inside, and you have landline phones all over the house.”

  “Which won’t work if he figures out where the junction is and cuts the cable.”

  “Then how will the security system work?” she asked.

  “It has cellular backup.” He drew his iPhone from his pocket. “Give me a minute. Gowdy loaded OpenEye on this today, but I haven’t tried to use it yet.”

  He tapped an icon, filled in some computer-type addresses, pressed “Local Connect,” and suddenly all the same pictures from the kitchen monitor popped up on the screen. Amanda gasped in amazement.

  “Inside the house, you connect locally. If you’re downtown, you connect by remote. That way, you can see what’s going on at your house, inside and out, no matter where you are. If this mess with Mark drags out in court and I have to work in the field, I can check on you here through my cell.” He glanced up. “This’ll come in handy if we’re gone shopping. From the driveway, we can check all around the property and inside the house. If we see Mark, we’ll call the cops.”

  Amanda’s throat went tight. “So you believe he’s going to come after us?”

  “After hearing your story, yes. He’s beyond dangerous. I think he’s a psychopath.”

  * * *

  Amanda set the table, drew a freshly made salad from the fridge, and filled a pitcher with ice water after pouring a glass of milk for Chloe. No Jeb. She assigned her daughter the job of filling the adults’ tumblers, then went to find her missing diner. He was in the living room, laying a shotgun atop the built-in entertainment center.

  “I’m glad you saw where I’m putting it,” he said. “Too high for Chloe to reach, but an easy grab for me and accessible to you.” After the weapon was out of sight, he turned toward her, his gaze moving slowly over her face. “You look like you’ve been dragged through a knothole backward.”

  “It’s been an interesting couple of days.”

  He opened his arms, inviting her to step close for a hug. Amanda hesitated, but then he smiled, and the next thing she knew, she was enfolded in his strong embrace. Breathing in the scent of him, an intoxicating blend of fresh air, hay, grain, and piney cologne, she wondered if she’d completely lost her mind. But being held close to him felt so wonderful. Safe. That was how Jeb made her feel. But he also ignited sensations within her that were dangerous. He lightly touched her spine, every drift of his fingertips sending zings of need through her.

  “What’s happening between us?” she whispered.

 
; A low laugh rumbled through his broad chest. “I’ve been asking myself the same question,” he whispered. “Sometimes I think we need to stop doubting and just go with it.”

  “Is that how you handle things like this with women, by just going with it?”

  “Nope. Never, which is why I’m still single. I’ve never met someone who gave me the urge to throw caution to the wind.” He paused. “Until now.”

  Amanda closed her eyes, holding those words fast in her heart. Until now. This man was totally obliterating the walls she had erected over the years. Mark, who had loomed in her mind like a monstrous specter, had been reduced to a faint shadow.

  * * *

  While they ate dinner, Amanda heard a faint meowing sound coming from outside. Bozo, lying next to Chloe’s chair, snapped erect and tried to cock his floppy ears. Jeb stepped over to the hall leading to the front door, listened for a moment, and then fetched a .357 Magnum revolver from atop the kitchen cupboard.

  “Don’t shoot it, Mr. Jeb! It’s a tiny baby kitten!”

  Following her daughter’s gaze, Amanda realized the child was staring at the kitchen monitor. “She’s right, Jeb. It’s only a kitten.”

  Jeb joined them in studying the screen image of the tiny creature on his front porch. “It could have been planted out there,” he mused aloud. “Bozo and I will rescue the kitten, but until I call out that it’s safe, I’d appreciate it if you two would go into my bedroom and lock the door.”

  Amanda almost protested. It was only a tiny baby and posed no threat. But then she remembered hearing tales of burglars and rapists tricking women into opening their doors by producing the sound of a baby crying on their porches. Jeb was right. Mark could have found the kitten and deposited it on the stoop.

  “Come along, Chloe.” Amanda lifted her daughter into her arms and hurried toward the bedroom.

  “But a kitten won’t hurt us!” the child cried.

  Amanda ignored the protest, entered the master suite, and locked the door. “See!” she exclaimed to Chloe, pointing at the other monitor. “Mr. Jeb has turned off the alarm and is opening the door. We can watch the rescue from here.”

  “Oh, Mommy,” Chloe said as Jeb picked up the bedraggled feline. “Look how little!”

  Keeping the kitten cupped against his chest, Jeb relocked the front door and reset the entry hall alarm panel. They had an inside view of the entire entry hall. “Okay,” he yelled. “It’s safe. Come on out.”

  The .357 had vanished by the time Amanda and Chloe returned to the kitchen. Jeb bent to carefully deposit the tiny, wet kitten on the floor. It had gray and white markings and an adorably round face, showing Persian heritage.

  “Her fur is frozen,” Jeb said. “We need to get her thawed and warm, ASAP.”

  Amanda raced for the bathroom to grab two towels. Dinner sat forgotten as they tended to the bedraggled baby, drying her frost-encrusted fur into fluffy spikes. Jeb went into the kitchen to put together a mushy meal of powdered milk, rice pabulum, and jarred baby meat.

  As he returned with the offering, Amanda asked, “Why do you keep stuff like that on hand?”

  “I get an occasional barn kitten that wanders in. I think they venture too far from shelter and their mothers, get turned around, and don’t know the way home. This mixture always seems to agree with them.”

  Studying Chloe, who sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the kitten while it lapped up the food, he mused aloud, “Normally I find homes for them. I have a feeling that may not be an option this time.”

  Warmth radiated through Amanda’s chest. Mouthing the words, she asked, “You’ll let her keep it?”

  He lifted his big hands in a gesture of helpless surrender, which caught Amanda by surprise and made her choke back a laugh. He outweighed the child by heaven-only-knew how many pounds.

  Jeb stepped out into the adjoining garage, which Aman- da had noted previously was crowded wall to wall with woodworking equipment, and returned a moment later with a shallow plastic tub filled with gray and bright blue granules.

  “Do you want the kitten to sleep with you tonight?” he asked Chloe.

  The child’s eyes went round with wonder. “Yes, my kitten should sleep with me. That way, he’ll stay warm.”

  Jeb carried the potty box upstairs to Amanda and Chloe’s room. Once back downstairs, he found another durable plastic tub, approximately the shape of a litter box, and, after filling it with kitty gravel, placed it in the laundry room.

  Hunkering down by Chloe, he said, “In order to box train your kitten, you must show her where she is supposed to go potty. Can I count on you to do that?”

  Chloe gave him a questioning look. “How do you know it’s a she and not a he?”

  Jeb chuckled. “Trust me, it’s a girl, and she must be trained so she doesn’t go potty on the floor. Girl kitties are very smart and remember where their boxes are. All you need to do is show her once. Just set her on the litter. She’ll know what it’s for.”

  “All girls are smart,” Chloe replied, giving Jeb a defiant look.

  Amanda nearly intervened; Jeb wasn’t aware that Mark had frequently told Chloe that all females were born with half a brain.

  Jeb nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Chloe. Most girls are very smart.”

  “Frosty is extremely smart,” the child insisted. “She knew right where to go when she got lost in the dark.” She lifted an adoring gaze to Jeb’s sharply carved face. “She knew Mr. Jeb would give her food and be kind to her.”

  Bozo moaned, his mournful gaze fixed on Chloe.

  “Uh-oh,” Amanda said. “I think you have a gigantic furry friend who’s feeling a little jealous, Chloe.”

  Chloe lifted an arm to invite Bozo closer. “Don’t be jealous. Just because I like Frosty doesn’t mean I don’t still love you!” Bozo plopped down beside the child, eyed the kitten for a moment, and then began licking her still-wet fur. “Be gentle,” Chloe warned. “She’s way littler than you.”

  “That’s what she needs,” Jeb said. “The licking will stimulate her system and bring her body temp back up.” He pushed himself to his feet and regarded their now-cold meal. “Thank God for microwaves.”

  After scooping their salads onto dessert plates, Amanda reheated the portions of casserole and returned them to the table. Chloe reluctantly left Frosty in Bozo’s care while she resumed her meal. The conversation revolved around the kitten, Bozo’s gentleness with her, and things the small creature might need during the night.

  “Food, for sure,” Jeb said between bites. “The pabulum mixture should do the trick. She looks pretty young and may not be completely weaned yet. It’ll settle well on her tummy. At least I’ve never had a kitten get sick from it yet.” To Chloe he said, “If she isn’t weaned, she’ll need to eat every couple of hours.” He directed a twinkling look at Amanda, his message clear. Night feedings would probably fall to her.

  “What does ‘wean’ mean?” Chloe asked.

  Amanda fielded that question. “Most baby mammals need milk from their mothers, who have teats on their tummies where the little ones can suckle. Over time, the mommy encourages her babies to eat more grown-up food and drink less milk until the babies are finally weaned.”

  “Did I need milk when I was a baby?” Chloe asked.

  Amanda felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, you did.”

  Chloe frowned. “Mommy, all you’ve got on your tummy is a belly button.”

  The heat in Amanda’s cheeks radiated down her neck. She felt sure she’d gone as red as a candied apple. Jeb cleared his throat, excused himself, and went to scrape his plate while the mother-daughter conversation continued.

  Lowering her voice and leaning close to her daughter, Amanda explained that human mommies had breasts just above their tummies.

  Chloe asked several more questions and Amanda did her best to give straightforward answ
ers. Soon after, Chloe resumed her position on the floor with Bozo and Frosty, leaving Amanda free to gulp down the rest of her meal and hurry into the kitchen.

  “It’s not your job to be cleaning up,” she told Jeb as she nudged him aside to scrape what remained on her plate into the slop bucket Jeb had brought in from the laundry room. “If this continues, I’ll renegotiate my wages down to five hundred a month.”

  Jeb grinned. “Like hell. We made a deal. No reneging now!”

  Amanda settled in beside him to take the dishes he rinsed and put them in the dishwasher. Battling a smile, she said, “Thank you for doing the disappearing act. Her questions came at me from left field.”

  With a chuckle, he said, “Around here, with farm critters giving birth left and right every spring—well, Chloe will be catching both of us off guard with questions we don’t expect.” At Amanda’s alarmed look, he laughed again. “I’ll send her to you for answers if you like. But I’m pretty sure I can handle them on my own. I was trained by one of the best—my mother.”

  Amanda was coming to love Kate Sterling. “So what did she say when critters were born on your farm?”

  Jeb’s teeth flashed in a broad smile. “She told us that Dad found all the newborns under a cabbage leaf in the garden. I actually believed it until I was about eight and one of Dad’s expensive brood mares dropped a foal when I was alone in the stable. It scared the bejesus out of me.”

  Amanda sniggered. “Your poor mother. How did she explain that one?”

  Jeb leaned around her to stick a plate in the rack. His chest grazed her back, making her acutely aware of his nearness. “All she did was threaten me with death if I blabbed to my younger brothers and sisters. According to her, kids should remain innocent for as long as possible. Reality comes calling soon enough.”

  Amanda took Jeb’s place at the right-hand sink to scrub the casserole dish. “In a way, I see her point. On the other hand, I’m not so sure I want Chloe to miss out on the beauty of nature. Seeing a lamb born—well, that has to be something.”