Murky Pond

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Murky Pond Page 8

by T. L. Haddix


  Ben saw him coming through the glass of the storm door, and he waved Warren inside with a smile. “Hey, you’re just in time. We moved the picnic in here since it looks like it’s going to rain.”

  “You’re stuck now,” Ainsley teased as she came around the island. “Warren tried to get out of eating with us, can you believe it?”

  Warren handed her the paper with a wince. “And I’m still going to beg off. Really, I appreciate the offer, but I need to get home.” He nodded at Molly and tried not to be too obvious as he looked for Lily.

  “Hot date?” came the impertinent question from behind him. “Too bad you—oh, my God! You’re bleeding! Warren! What happened?”

  Before he could blink, Lily had tossed the jar she held to her startled father, who caught it with a muttered curse. She carefully lifted the sleeve of Warren’s T-shirt. Her comments made everyone in the kitchen come to a standstill, then they were surrounding him with questions and concern.

  Warren jerked as she hit a sore spot, breath hissing from between his clenched teeth. “It’s nothing. Mickey took care of it with some strips and a patch to cover it. The blood on my shirt is dried.”

  “Not all of it.” Predictably, Lily glared at him and ignored his words, gently easing the bandage away from the wound. “Oh, Warren, you stubborn ass. Molly, help.”

  “I’m on it,” the redhead said, heading out of the kitchen. “Lucky for you, I have my bag.”

  “It’s just a scratch,” Warren insisted somewhat desperately as Lily tried to push him toward a barstool. She didn’t budge him, but she persisted enough that he gave in and sat.

  “Bull,” Ben said, frowning. “That looks deep. Will you let Molly take a look?”

  Tired and hurting, Warren sighed. “Sure.”

  “What happened?” Ainsley asked, wincing as she peeked beneath the loose bandage.

  Face heating with embarrassment, Warren shook his head. “Stupid blind luck. I was wrapping things up for the day, and I went in to check on something in Indigo’s stall. The hooks on one of my boots is loose apparently, which I discovered when they got caught in the laces of my other boot. I tripped over my own two feet, and when I hit the wall, Indigo’s feed bucket took the brunt of it. I caught it just right, on the edge of the clasp where the handle goes in, and voila! One cut shoulder.”

  Lily paced impatiently in front of him. “How long has it been since you had a tetanus shot? Did you hit your head? How hard did you hit?” She was practically wringing her hands, and her voice was tight with tension as she looked toward the hall. “Come on, Molly.”

  “Lily, I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. I’ve had worse. We all have,” he said quietly, hoping to reassure her.

  “We’ll let Molly decide that,” she retorted as her cousin came back in.

  When he saw Ben and Ainsley exchange a knowing glance, he gave a silent curse. If they didn’t have suspicions before about what had caused the distance between him and Lily, they surely would now.

  “Yes, we will let me make the call,” Molly said. She set her purple-and-pink-flowered bag on the counter and smiled as she opened it and pulled out a pair of gloves. “Step aside, please, Lil. Warren, any allergies to latex or lidocaine?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  She probed the wound gently with her gloved fingertips. “Good thing Mickey had the strips to hold this together or you’d have bled like a stuck pig. From the looks of this sleeve, you did. Can you take your shirt off, or do you want me to cut it?”

  He eased the cotton over his head in answer, grunting a bit with pain. “It’s a new tee the kids got me, so no cutting please. I’ll try to wash it. And yeah, I did bleed, completely ruined my work shirt. This one was all I had or I wouldn’t have changed into it.”

  “Stubborn fool of a man,” Lily muttered, taking the shirt. “Dad, can you get him something please? I’ll get this to soaking. Peroxide should do the trick.”

  She was stalking across the kitchen toward the laundry room with the shirt before Warren could do more than make a squeak of protest and stare after her, his jaw on the floor.

  “Yes, ma’am. Warren, what can I get you? There’s chicken, potato salad, slaw, half a dozen other things. How about some lemonade?” Ben offered.

  Lily stopped, turning back toward them with a scowl, her hands going to her hips in consternation. “Daddy!”

  Ben laughed. “What? He looks hungry.”

  “You do look hungry,” Ainsley said around a snort, but the words weren’t delivered unkindly. She headed for the door. “I’ll get the shirt. You’d best give in gracefully, Mr. Sullivan. You’re not leaving here until you’re taken care of.”

  Warren closed his eyes. “Lemonade sounds good. Thank you.”

  “She’s just worried,” Molly said in a low voice when Ben stepped away for the drink. “Lily, I mean.”

  “I know.” One of the things he’d quickly learned about Lily was that her level of concern could be easily gauged by how irritated she became. Flippancy was mild concern. Grouchiness was indicative of fairly moderate worry. Silence peppered with short, clipped speech meant she was terrified. “Did you talk to her?”

  Molly shook her head. “She’s not ready to discuss it, so I didn’t bring it up. This is going to pinch a bit.”

  He swore when the needle pricked his skin. “How is it that you have lidocaine in your bag?”

  “Sometimes I have to make house calls. Yes, some of us still do that,” she said when he looked at her with surprise. “Now, fortunately for you, I do a very nice stitch, at least on human flesh. Give me fabric and I can’t sew a straight line. Here goes. Let me know if it hurts.”

  Ben laughed as he returned and handed Warren a glass. “You get that from Mom. She’s still struggling to learn to knit, and Haley, bless her, is still patiently trying to teach her even though it’s been well over a year since they started.”

  “Haley’s an absolute saint when it comes to patience. The funny thing is, since she’s become pregnant? She’s getting downright bossy. Reminds me of someone else,” Molly said as Lily came back in, “but I’m not naming names.”

  “Yeah, because it would be your own,” Lily said. “How is he?”

  “Aside from needing three little stitches and being hungry, he seems fine. Keep an eye on that. If it starts to get red, you might need antibiotics. As a matter of fact, I’ll call you some in before I go home just in case. It looks like Mickey did an excellent job at getting it clean and I irrigated it just now, but keep your eyes open.” Molly sent him a look. “Are you up to date on your shots?”

  “Yep. I had my rabies and distemper last year,” he joked, “and tetanus this past spring when Ben and I took a spin in the truck.”

  Ainsley came in just in time to hear that last part, and she shook her head as everyone, save Lily, laughed. “You two damned near scared me to death, sliding on ice and winding up in a ditch with a tree across the truck. Here, I thought a button-up might be easier to get back on. Sorry about the pattern. It’s all he has that’s short sleeved.”

  Warren eyed the garish green and pink Hawaiian shirt with bemusement. “Thank you. Um, I don’t recall ever seeing you wear this,” he told Ben.

  The other man grinned. “And you never will. I’ve been waiting and waiting for a reason to give that thing away. It’s yours now, buddy.”

  “Didn’t Daddy get you that shirt as a gift?” Molly eyed her uncle shrewdly as she stripped off her gloves. “A souvenir from when he and Mom went to Hawaii?”

  “He did, the stinker. Since you’re doing the stitching on the patient, please be sure and tell John the sacrifice was genuine.”

  As they chatted, Lily went to the stove and checked on a pot, then pushed some buttons on the appliance’s display. Warren watched her, listening to the conversation with half an ear. She’d gone quiet and som
ber, and that made him worry.

  “Dinner’s ready,” she said, turning back to the room. “Your shirt’s soaking. I’ve set a timer, and I’ll throw it in the wash when it’s ready.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Warren protested. He absently said thanks when Ben handed him an empty plate. “I can take it home and wash it.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I have a couple of delicate things that will be going in tonight, and I can do them all together. That way there’s less chance of damage. You said it was a special shirt, right?” She wouldn’t look at him.

  Deciding he’d best give in and shut up, he nodded. “Thank you.”

  They didn’t say much to one another the rest of the evening, but there was no lag in the conversation. Molly was making a subtle effort to keep things from slowing down, and he could have hugged her for it.

  He didn’t try to linger once he’d eaten. “I appreciate the first aid and the meal,” he said as he stood from the table. “Both were excellent. However, I have some things I need to get to this evening at home, so I’d best be going.”

  “Do you want to take some leftovers?” Ainsley said. “There’s a ton of food.”

  “No, I’m good, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

  “Let me know if that arm gives you any trouble tonight.” Molly followed him to the sink with her plate. “It should be fine though. Oh, by the way, I didn’t use dissolvable stitches, given the kind of work you do. I didn’t want to take a chance that it would tear before it was healed. Someone will have to snip those for you in a few days.”

  “All right. I appreciate this, Doc.” He gave her a quick hug. “Good luck with your journey.”

  “You think about what I said, okay?”

  He nodded. “Sure.” He’d thought of little else really, which was annoying as hell. From her satisfied smirk, he figured she knew that.

  Lily didn’t so much as look at him as he left, something that unsettled him. He wasn’t sure how to take her reaction. As he drove home, all of five minutes away, he replayed the evening over and over in his head. First, she’d overreacted. Then, nothing. Even as long as he’d known her, he didn’t know how to take those shifts. For the thousandth time since they’d become intimate, he cursed the change in their relationship. Before, he’d have been able to cajole her out of her quietness, not afraid of what her response might be. Now, he was all too aware that simply teasing her could set off a firestorm that neither of them was ready for or able to handle.

  “I miss my friend,” he said as he pulled in and parked under the carport he’d installed two summers ago. “Damn it, I miss you, Lily.”

  For a few minutes, he sat there, keys in hand, thinking about her. He also couldn’t help but think about Jessie and about the mess he’d become after she died. The sheer idea that he’d already lost Lily because he’d given in to the strong attraction he felt for her made him want to cry or hit something or both.

  Somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered that he was being stupid. As it had the other day, the voice took on his late wife’s tone. “She’s not dead, you know. Far from it. Nothing’s over so long as you’re both still living. And you are still living, Warren. You forget that sometimes. For heaven’s sake, go after the girl. Let her love you. Love her back. Take the chance and run with it.”

  He jerked his head up, blinking away the fog that clouded his eyes, and gave a short, humorless laugh. “I must be more tired than I thought,” he said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  For a few seconds, he almost believed he’d heard Jessie, that she’d been in the truck with him. He’d only ever experienced that a few times before--once when he was at his very lowest point while actively drinking, and a few times lately. The sensation jolted him, scaring him fully awake, and he gripped his keys tightly.

  “It has to be the lidocaine.” Eager to get out of the truck, he fumbled with the door handle. When the fresh, humid air smacked him in the face, he blew out a relieved breath. His head felt clearer already.

  Regardless, he couldn’t shake the message he’d heard in the… whatever that had been. No matter how hard he tried, the words echoed through his mind long after he’d finished his busy work and gone to bed, only fading once he fell into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As she got ready for bed late Wednesday night, Ainsley couldn’t stop thinking about the evening. Ben came in from locking up to find her standing on the balcony outside their bedroom, staring out over the rolling fields of the farm. He slipped his arms around her waist and rubbed his face on her hair.

  “What has you concentrating so hard?” he murmured in her ear.

  Ainsley leaned back into him with a sigh, squeezing his arms in a reverse hug. “Your daughter. Warren. All the tension between them. I told you something was there.”

  “Mm, you did.” He didn’t sound pleased. “She was ready to take him to the ER when she saw that cut.”

  “If Molly hadn’t been here, she would have done it.” Ainsley turned, bracing her hips on the railing as she looked up at him. “They’re closer than I thought. I can tell by the way they touched, the way they looked at each other. I think they’ve been intimate.”

  He scowled fiercely and gave a quick shake of his head. “No.”

  “Sorry, Papa, but yes.” She laid her hand on his belly. “I’d bet you it happened last year when I had surgery.” Last fall, right before Lily had left with Agatha, Ainsley had had a scary fall from a horse. She’d done some damage to her knee and had to have a reconstruction. “If I hadn’t been messed up from all that, I’d have picked up on it sooner.”

  Ben was clearly unhappy with the idea, and she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t necessarily agree with his upset, but she understood it.

  “She’s not a casual-type girl,” he said. “Warren should know better.”

  Ainsley smiled. “I think he knows very well who and what Lily is. And you and I both know that doesn’t mean a whit of difference when things get heated. I hate to see their friendship so strained. It definitely is that.”

  “What should we do?” He laid his hands on her shoulders, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Call Dad in on this one?”

  Laughing, she leaned into his embrace and let her weight rest against him, secure in knowing he’d support her. “Owen Campbell, master matchmaker. He’d enjoy pairing the two of them up.” She shook her head. “I wish I knew what to do. If he wasn’t so locked up in his grief, Warren would be perfect for her. And she’s always been able to make him smile.”

  “He’s not who I’d have chosen,” Ben countered.

  That did surprise Ainsley, and she blinked at him. “Really? Why ever not?”

  “Because he’s locked up in the past. I want her to be for someone what you are for me—everything and always, beginning to end. If he and Lily ended up together in some sort of something, I’d worry that he’d not choose her first if given the chance, that she’d just be a substitute for him. Second choice.”

  “Ben Campbell…” She touched his cheek. “I don’t think you give him enough credit.”

  He shook his head as he captured her hand, kissing the palm. “I know how powerful a first, true love can be. I want Lily to have that.”

  “Even if he makes her happy?”

  “Well, he isn’t doing that now, is he? He’ll have to prove himself a hell of a lot more for me to be comfortable with the idea. Besides, given the tension between them, I don’t think they’re going the direction you want them to. The opposite maybe, and I can’t say that makes me all that sad.”

  Ainsley searched his eyes, truly concerned. “Tell me you won’t stand in their way. If and when things come to a head, tell me you’ll not try to stop them.”

  “Not if he makes her happy.”

  “Ben—”

  “I can’t make you a promise I won’t keep
. I like Warren, truly. He’s a good man. He deserves to be happy. But I won’t sit back and let him destroy my baby girl.”

  “You think I would?” She lifted an eyebrow and dared him to answer to the affirmative.

  “Never. You’re just more romantic than me.” He winked, but his face remained solemn. “If she wants him and he wants her, truly wants her, I won’t cause problems. But I won’t give him her hand, so to speak, unless I’m certain it’s because he loves her.”

  Though she wanted to argue, she couldn’t disagree. “Things might happen. She might get pregnant or something.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a single mother.”

  Ainsley’s jaw dropped. “Ben!”

  He held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, Cupid. I’ll get the hearts and bows and arrows out. If they’re warranted. Okay?”

  “Yes. If they’re warranted. We might be reading too much into this, anyhow. Just because they’ve been intimate doesn’t mean they’re lovers or anything like it.”

  Ben groaned and covered his ears. “No, no, no. I draw the line at discussing her love life in that kind of detail.”

  She made a face at him. “She’s an adult.”

  “I am very well aware of that. I’m still not talking about that. Come on, gorgeous. Let’s head inside. Tomorrow’s going to be a rough day, and I won’t get to hold you long enough tonight.” He had to be at a jobsite to break ground first thing.

  Ainsley followed him in, sliding the screen closed behind her but not the glass, letting the air flow through. She trailed him to the bathroom, watching from the door as he pulled off his clothes and tossed them in the hamper.

  “Everything and always, huh?”

  He grinned, the warmth in his eyes as he surveyed her from head to toe touching her heart and other places as well. “Absolutely.”

  She waited for him to come to her and relished that first brush of skin as they touched. Closing her eyes as she slid her hands across his chest and up to his shoulders, she let out a breath. “Me too.”

 

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