He sifted through the strands until he uncovered the bump. “It didn’t break the skin, which accounts for the swelling. You need to ice it.”
“Are you done?”
“Just about.” He checked the surrounding area, gently letting his fingers search out any other swelling or abnormalities. His fingers felt a thick ridge of skin—possibly stitches from a childhood injury—but nothing else. “Good,” he said, resting a hand to her shoulder. “Just sit here while I get the ice bag.”
“Don’t you have any frozen peas?”
He chuckled at her request. “I’m a little old school, but I think there’s still a tray of ice cubes that have small-sized cubes in the freezer. It’s easier on the bump. Let me just get the ice bag.”
“Don’t you have a baggie?”
He looked up at the ceiling and then back at Caitlin. “Who’s the doctor here?”
Her face flushed a delicate pink. Charmed by that telltale reaction, he nodded and went to the downstairs closet where his dad used to kept some of his first aid supplies: bandages, old sheets cut and folded ready to be used as a sling—or in a pinch a tourniquet—alcohol, peroxide, and among other things, the insulated ice bag his mom had used to help ease his childhood injuries. His folks must have decided to leave that for him too, knowing he’d need them more than they would.
He returned with the bag, unscrewed the lid, and filled it with ice cubes. “Keep this on for ten minutes, off for ten. Got it?”
He raised one eyebrow when she didn’t answer and waited for her to capitulate.
She frowned up at him and said, “Yeah.”
“Want some aspirin?”
“No, I think I’ll be fine. It was getting the wind knocked out of me that was the scariest.”
He paused halfway to the coffeemaker and turned back toward her. “I should have checked for fractured ribs—”
“I think I’d know if I was hurt anywhere else,” she reassured him. “I’m fine, just had the rug pulled out from under me…seriously…when Jamie tugged on it and ran.” Before he could chastise the dog, she continued, “But he’s just a puppy and doesn’t know what he’s doing—right?”
He sighed, defeated for the moment. “That’s true. If you’re going to be helping me watch him and checking up on him, you have to remember that he’s a baby—just the fuzzy kind. They get into mischief all of the time and you have to be on your toes, ready for just about anything.”
“So you have experience with babies too?”
He nodded. “My Illinois cousins on my mom’s side.”
“Ah,” she said. “That would explain why I don’t know them.”
He grinned. “The Daly clan is almost as large as the Gannon clan—except for my mom and dad, my cousins all come from large families.”
Caitlin’s eyes danced with amusement. “Want a sister?”
He couldn’t help but join in her laughter. “I think I’ll pass on that right now and should remind you that you might miss her once she’s gone.”
Her expression changed in a heartbeat and he was left wondering if he had been the cause. “You aren’t worried about Meg, are you?” The tiny shake of her head was his answer. “Good, then is it Grace?”
He wondered if she’d tell him and then wondered why he cared. He had done more soul searching and thinking in one afternoon then he had in a month of Sundays. Something about this reawakening got to him on a whole different level. He wasn’t used to having his world turned upside down. Time to take back control. “Did you call your dad?”
“Yes. You were right. It was a good idea.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“Are you kicking me out?”
He fought the urge to smile. “Not yet. You still need to keep the ice on your head for the next little while and I have to rig something to use as a leash for Jamie. I don’t want him to run away.”
“That’s why I spread newspaper by the back door. I was afraid to take him outside without a leash, and I didn’t want him to mess up your floor.”
They both looked down at the puppy in question. He was contentedly chewing on the bottom chair rung. Jack shook his head. “Another chewer. I should have known.”
“I thought all puppies chewed.”
He looked at Cait and then his watch before motioning for Cait to take the ice off her head. “Some more than others. Our beagles were champion chewers.”
Cait fell silent. He wondered if she was worried about her sister, the dog, Honey B., or her grandfather’s truck. All of the above? “You’re awfully quiet. Does your head hurt?”
“I have a bit on my mind.”
Stingy, but apparently all she was willing to share with him. He liked seeing her in his kitchen, and the way she played with the puppy chipped away at the walls around his heart. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to get any closer to the turmoil he kept a tight lid on, but he definitely wanted to find out what it would be like to press his lips to the pulse beat on her neck.
Should he give in to temptation? Would she think he was taking advantage of the situation and her? Way too much thinking going on here…he was normally a man of action. Time to act. “Have you ever seen someone and wondered what it would be like if you got to know them better?”
Her eyes widened for a heartbeat and then her gaze locked on his. “Are you wondering about me, Jack?”
Her softly whispered question set off a conflagration inside of him. Imagining iron bands wrapping around his inner beast to contain it helped him regain control. He drew her to her feet and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart as he traced her spine with the tips of his fingers, eliciting a shiver. “Cold?”
Cait shook her head, never breaking eye contact. When she licked her lips, he had to fight to keep from moaning aloud. He wanted. No point in trying to pick apart and separate what he wanted from Caitlin. He liked to keep things simple—he wanted it all.
Textures, tastes, and long, lingering kisses that would lead to soft moans of pleasure—Jack was in serious trouble. He’d only spent a few hours with her and he was imagining them together, could see it so clearly. He never moved that fast…but then again, he’d never met anyone quite like Caitlin Mulcahy before.
Best to retreat for the moment, he thought as he let his hands fall back to his sides. He could fan the flames the next time he saw her and see where it might lead. Either way, he intended to begin a relationship with Cait—hopefully one with all of the trimmings—but he didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t ready for.
God, he hoped she didn’t need too much time.
“I’d better let you go.” He wondered if his voice sounded as raspy to her as it did to him. Clearing his throat he added, “I’ve got to see about that temporary leash so he can go outside before settling down for the night.”
Her eyes changed in hue from a brilliant and sparkling emerald to a pale yellow-green, the color of new grass that had been covered with a late spring snow. Had his need to keep a lid on these new feelings for Caitlin forced him to be too abrupt with her? Had he hurt her feelings in the process?
“I should be getting on home too.” She bent down to rub Jamie’s upturned face. “Be good for Jack.”
The little dog jumped up and nipped the knee of her jeans in response. When it tore, she shrugged. “Well, they were a bit worn anyway and I needed a new pair of shorts.”
“Hey, I need your number.”
She smiled and gave it to him. Something warm and wonderful moved through him as their eyes met and held. The hesitation and uncertainty were gone, replaced by the laughter in her eyes. Jack had always been drawn to kindness and a giving heart.
Caitlin Mulcahy’s kindness shone through when she stopped to lend a hand, thinking he’d been stranded at the side of the road and needed help. Watching her me
lt before his eyes as she hesitantly reached out to pet the fuzzy black face of the pup they rescued only added to her appeal and called to him on so many different levels.
Jack could hear his mother’s oft-used advice in his head: “Keep an open mind and heart because sometimes love comes softly and blooms slowly. Best you be ready, Jackie boy.”
Chapter 4
Caitlin thought about Jack and Jamie all the way home. Sparks of excitement still skittered up and down her spine as she remembered the feel of his fingers sifting through her hair. Her heart conveniently forgot that he’d been in physician mode, checking the area around the bump, while his strong, capable fingers stroked the back of her head.
Had she really thought she knew all about him because Meg went to school with him, Miss Trudi used to read snippets from his letters back home, and she’d seen him whenever he was home on leave? The man who’d limped toward her worried about a fuzzy little black puppy was a complete mystery to her. But if she were honest with herself, she hoped he wouldn’t be for long.
She drove the long way home, past the turn off onto Goose Pond Road, so she could go by the McCormack Farm.
Dog Hollow Road was still farther up, and right before the intersection was proof of the poor choice she’d made that morning, parked at Bob’s Gas and Gears. She cringed thinking of her grandfather’s truck stuck inside Bob’s paint booth.
One thought led to another and soon she was dissecting her father’s reaction to the news. Why wasn’t he more upset? A few years ago, she’d have been grounded for life…well, she wasn’t a teenager now, but she had expected more of a blast from his formidable Irish temper.
She sighed as she turned left onto Cherry Valley Road, wishing she’d taken Jack up on the silent question in his eyes. That perfect moment when he’d drawn her close against his powerful chest and bent his head…as if he were going to kiss her…but then he pulled back.
Distracted, she wondered if their first kiss would have been tentative, a mere brush of lips, or lush and full, tempting her resolve not to get lost in his heady, masculine scent or the taste of his mouth. She tingled from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
How could she have spent the whole of her adolescent existence thinking Jack Gannon was too old for her? The memory of the deep dimple that formed when he smiled down at her caused her heart to flutter. “And that is the reason it is probably best that he didn’t kiss me.” It was all happening too fast and tangled up with their rescuing Jamie. She sighed as she turned right onto Peat Moss Road. Going slower than normal, she drew in one calming breath after another, hoping to cool the fire that ignited just thinking of being held in Jack’s arms, imagining how his kiss would be…how his lips would mold to hers…
She gripped the steering wheel and turned into her driveway and her earlier worry of having to face her father resurfaced—her dad was waiting for her. Pulling up to the barn, she put it in park, braced herself for the onslaught, and got out.
“Hi, Pop. What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“I thought you weren’t mad.”
“I’m not, but I wanted to talk to you.”
The fact that she’d disappointed him had her mouth drying up and her tongue tying into a knot waiting to hear what else he wanted to tell her.
“Just one moment’s distraction while driving had that driver running the red light…causing the head-on that took your mom from us.”
Cait’s throat tightened. She would never forget that awful time.
“I cannot lose any of my girls that way too, Cait…it would kill me.”
“But, Pop, it wasn’t that serious.”
“It could be next time. Don’t let there be a next time, all right?”
Cait sighed and walked into her father’s open arms. “I promise.”
He folded his arms around her and hugged her to him. “That’s my girl.” He pulled back and kissed her forehead. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”
From the way he hurried over to his truck, she knew he was going to Mary Murphy’s. He and the widow had been keeping company since Edie and Bill’s wedding three years ago. She wondered, not for the first time, if she and her sisters should interfere and push him to admit his feelings for Mary. They all liked her, but their dad was moving slower than molasses in January.
As his taillights disappeared, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was afraid to commit, or if it was because of Cait and her sisters’ initial reaction—or maybe it was something much deeper. No matter if he kept it quiet for a while longer or not, she was glad he had someone in his life. Thinking of her mom, she believed in her heart that everyone deserved to be happy…for however long they were alive to enjoy it.
The soft glow of the light by the back door and the one on the stovetop was a welcoming sight, proof that he’d thought of her and didn’t want her fumbling around in the dark. Since Grace was still out, she left the stove light on and trudged upstairs.
Her dad’s words haunted her until she began to wonder how different she would be if her mom had survived the accident. She had always felt she had missed out when she watched her friends receive hugs and kisses from their moms.
“It isn’t Meg’s fault that she wasn’t mom,” she grumbled, flicking on her bedroom light. “Heaven knows she did the best she could with Gracie and me…but it just wasn’t the same as a hug from mom.”
Feeling abysmally sorry for herself, she changed out of her work clothes, grabbed her pj’s, and headed for the shower. Standing beneath the hot spray, she didn’t try to stop the tears that threatened whenever she started to think of life without her mom. Alone with no one to hear, she wept for the little girl who had missed out on those hugs, kisses, and baking lessons—and then for the adolescent who missed out on those talks about boys in school and butterflies in her stomach.
Finally, emotionally drained, she shut off the water and got out. Weary to the bone, she lay down but couldn’t find her sleep—something her grandmother Mulcahy used to say when they were small. She needed to call Meg, but knew her sister was probably asleep by now. Cait’s nephews and her sister’s pregnancy were taking a lot out of Meg. She couldn’t talk to Grace because she was out on a date, and she was too tired to call Peggy, who would insist on sharing the latest gossip with her.
There wasn’t anyone else she could talk to, was there?
A tall broad-shouldered man with auburn hair came to mind. “Could I call Jack?” Unsure, she hesitated with her hand on her phone. When it buzzed beneath her hand, she jolted. “Hello?”
“Hi, Cait, it’s Jack.”
Having a connection to someone when she’d been floundering amidst remembered grief had relief flowing through her. “Hey, everything OK?”
“I was just going to ask you that.” The deep voice on the other end of the line soothed her. “I just wanted to check up on you. Are you sure you’re not feeling any aftereffects from hitting your head?”
His concern wrapped around her like a hug. “Only a slight headache. It’s been a long day with some really great highs…and some pretty crappy lows.”
“I know what you mean. Today has been interesting.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
It was as easy as that. She asked and Jack, hesitatingly at first, unloaded some of his burden while she listened. They talked for nearly an hour about his day, Jamie, and then her day. At last her body relaxed, the tension from the day’s events slowly sliding away.
“Thank you, Jack.”
“For?”
“Letting me share your day,” she said quietly, wishing she were brave enough to tell him that she’d had a mini meltdown in the shower and had been close to falling apart when she first answered his call. “I needed to talk, and you’re a great listener.”
“I think you have it backward, Cait. You’re the one who lis
tened when I started talking about my day.”
She smiled at the idea. “So we’re both grateful.”
“And we both needed to talk,” Jack said. He hesitated, then asked, “Can you stop by tomorrow around noon to feed Jamie and let him out?”
“Absolutely…during lunch and again on my way home. Where’s he sleeping tonight?”
His soft chuckle added to the unsettling effect he had on her. Then, he totally distracted her when he said, “In the middle of my bed.”
Their shared laughter had her day ending far better than it would have without it. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I’ve taken care of Jamie.”
There was a slight pause before he cleared his throat and said, “I can make a late dinner for us if you wait for me. I should be home around eight o’clock.”
Her heart picked up the beat as her stomach filled with butterflies at the prospect of being with Jack again. “Why don’t you let me make supper for you tomorrow? You can cook dinner another time.”
“I’d like that very much. Good night, Caitlin.”
The sound of her name resonating through the tiny speaker in her hand had her inner child dancing a jig. “Night, Jack.”
With a sigh of contentment, Caitlin turned off the light and snuggled beneath the covers. Her last thought before she closed her eyes was being held in his arms and watching Jack’s dimple wink at her as his lips pressed softly against her own.
***
A few miles away, Jack hung up his phone and smiled, pleased with himself that he’d reached out to Caitlin. It sounded as if she’d been eager to talk to him. They’d made a connection—a solid one. It might just be the foundation they’d needed to build a relationship on.
One thing was certain, he intended to see more of Caitlin. “Hey…no bites!”
But the little ball of fur cuddled against his side wasn’t listening; he was too busy lining up Jack’s oblique muscle—as if to pounce on it—and Jack knew what would be next—the puppy would nip at it again.
“OK,” he said, picking the pup up so they were eye level. “There are a few house rules that you’re going to have to learn.”
One Day in Apple Grove Page 6