by Debbie Burns
Ben could hear the worry lining Ollie’s tone and guessed it had more than one layer. He chose his answer carefully. “Well, Ol, climbing’s in my blood. There’ll always be a mountain calling somewhere, but I don’t plan to climb anything for a long time that will take me away from St. Louis—from you—the way Everest did.”
“Because Everest is in Nepal? Mom and I watched a lot of stuff about it on YouTube.”
“It’s more than just how far away it is. Mountains like Everest are really high in altitude, which means the air is thinner. A big part of your trip is getting your body used to operating with a lot less oxygen than it normally gets. It’s called high-altitude climbing, and right now, the only climbing I want to do is climbing that won’t require that kind of preparation.”
“Did you save any animals on Everest? Like you did in the Rockies?”
Ben speared a link of sausage. “I gave a couple stray dogs my dinner once, when I was trekking up to base camp. And if you’re thinking of the deer, it was at Mount Rainier, which is further west than the Rockies. It’s in the Cascades.”
Ollie twisted on the bench, pulling his knees up into his chest and twisting to face Ben. “Will you tell me the story again?”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve heard it enough to tell it to me, haven’t you?”
“I like it better when you tell it.”
Ben chuckled, but since it was a story Ollie never tired of hearing, he said, “Well, my buddy and I were hiking up Mount Rainier, and we came across a distressed mama deer. We looked down into the ravine and saw a fawn who couldn’t climb up to her mom.”
“Poor baby deer.” Ben suppressed a smile over the way Ollie’s eyes grew round like saucers even though he knew the ending by heart.
“Yup,” Ben said. “She was too tired to climb up, even when the mom went all the way down and up again to show her the way.”
Ollie dipped a bit of pancake into syrup, then licked it before popping it into his mouth. “What did you do?”
“I rappelled down the ravine…”
“Was it steep?”
Ben lifted his forearm until it was nearly vertical. “Like this.”
“That’s steep!”
“It was. So, I went down there with some blankets and rope. I was planning to catch the frightened thing in the blanket and tie the rope around it and pull it up with me. You know it was probably only three or four months old, and even not weighing much more than you, it could still do one heck of a job defending itself with those strong legs and hard hooves. Baby deer look defenseless, but they’re pretty courageous when they feel the need to defend themselves.”
“That deer could’ve beat you up.”
“Quite possibly. And as you know, once I got down there, I could see it was intent on knocking me over if I didn’t catch it first. But as it turned out, a human showing up gave it the adrenaline boost it needed. I was trying to corner it, and we were facing off…”
“Like this?” Ollie asked, raising his arms like a goalie.
“Exactly like that.” Ben nodded. “Well, it ran right around me and scampered up the ravine to its mom, and they both dashed into the trees without looking back.”
“Mom says they didn’t stop to thank you because they were too afraid.” Ollie shook his head sagaciously. “Do you think animals remember like we do? ’Cuz if they do, I bet that mom reminds her baby about the day you saved her.” He held up a sticky finger. “Or almost clobbered her!”
After their laughter died down, Ollie spent the rest of the meal asking Ben to retell some of the more fantastical climbing stories that he hadn’t grown tired of hearing. Ben didn’t mind. Since he’d climbed mountains and rock faces on five continents so far, he’d accumulated his fair share. And when he had a genuine-hearted audience like Ollie, retelling many of these tales was nothing but a pleasure.
Chapter 5
When Mia agreed to paint the mural that would complete the renovations that had been under way at the High Grove Animal Shelter for the last seven months, she’d been a touch intimidated. Not only would she be using a different medium—acrylics instead of pastels—but she did her best work when it was quiet and the world seemed to fall away. At home, this was much easier to do than it would be in the main room of a busy animal shelter.
Thankfully, Mia had been a shelter volunteer long enough that she had Megan’s trust. Megan had given her a key several weeks ago so she could come and go whenever she pleased.
Tonight, after Ben and Ollie had taken off for Taye’s school play, Mia had expected to stay home and bury herself under the covers and catch up on the sleep that had evaded her last night. When that hadn’t worked, she’d come here instead. Pastel work had long been something Mia found cathartic. And on the heels of the condom-wrapper find, she’d needed the release that would accompany sketching more than she’d needed to crawl under a blanket. And on top of that, the dogs and cats here were always the best medicine.
The mural wall had been prepped with high-grade primer and was ready for her to begin painting. Not ready to dive into anything permanent tonight, she’d hung several sheets of oversize paper on the left corner of the wall and was using the set of charcoal pencils she kept in her car for impromptu sketching. Before she began painting for real, she’d need to get the dimensions worked out and acclimate to working on a vertical surface rather than an easel or a desk.
A month ago, she’d completed half-a-dozen small-scale sketches. The one that had been a favorite of staff and volunteers was a dynamic scene highlighting some of the shelter’s most famous rescues. One of them was Trina, the shelter’s only resident cat. She had been found as a kitten floating on debris in the flooded aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Tonight, Trina was dozing curled up on the counter nearest the cat kennels. While it was generally accepted that her hanging out there was Trina’s way of taunting the caged cats with her freedom, her calm demeanor also seemed to help newly surrendered cats relax as they adjusted to unfamiliar surroundings.
The shelter’s only other resident for life was a senior dog named Chance, who’d been blinded by a bout of parvo when he was young. Tonight, Mia was sketching Chance. With the help of some strategically offered treats, he was hanging nearby while she drew him in several different poses.
He was a cream-colored cairn terrier who’d become a shelter legend due to his knack for reading people. It had become unofficial shelter policy to test Chance’s response to potential adopters. It didn’t matter that he was blind; he could sense people who had good animal karma and those who didn’t. Mia was going to paint him eagerly greeting a young child.
In between sketches, Mia sank to her heels and gave him a generous scratch on his belly. “You know, boy, I’m pretty sure every side is your best side.” She offered him another treat, and after munching it up, he flopped back onto his side, hoping for another tummy rub. Mia laughed, unable to resist offering a scratch that sent one back leg into a flurry of motion.
She’d stood up and was attempting to discern which of the three sketches best portrayed his perpetually upbeat attitude when the front door jangled open. She jerked as it occurred to her that since she’d been working alone and it was after hours, she should’ve locked the door behind her when she’d come in. In the chaotic aftermath of late, she’d been forgetting things like that, little things like when to take the garbage out, things she’d never given much thought to before.
Fortunately, it was just Ollie, rushing in from the night-darkened parking lot, and Ben, trailing behind him.
“Hi, Mom!” Ollie zoomed over to greet Chance, who was rising to his feet to greet him. Ollie dropped to his knees. “Miss me, buddy?”
Chance knew most of the staff and volunteers by smell, and Ollie had been coming with her often enough that the terrier knew him too. As Ollie plopped to the floor and stuck his nose against Chance’s, Mia turned to Ben.
; Her cheeks seemed to warm just as much as they had yesterday when he’d come to the house. He was a friend, she reminded herself. He had been for years. This didn’t need to be any different than slipping back into a comfortable pair of shoes she’d not worn for a few months. There was no need for her blood to race at the sight of him.
Only it did.
Tonight he was wearing black jeans and a light-gray sweater that was just snug enough to highlight his remarkable build, and his hands were tucked noncommittally in his back pockets. With his dark hair and eyes and classic good looks, he reminded Mia of a stunning night sky. She attributed that to his eyes more than anything. They were an impossibly dark brown, almost black, complementing the reserved air he had about him. He had the understated confidence of someone who’d made it to the top of Mount Everest and back down safely but didn’t go out of his way to tell anyone about it.
“Hey. We spotted your CR-V in the lot as we passed by.”
“I meant to text you. I guess time got away from me. How’d Taye do?”
“Good. Great, actually. Nailed his lines.”
“Did he? Great! I’m sorry I missed it.” She released a breath. “I honestly thought I was going to crash, but I couldn’t sleep.”
It occurred to her that if anyone knew who Brad had been sleeping with, it could very well be Ben. He and Brad had grown apart a bit over the years, but at one point there’d been no secrets between them.
Mia wasn’t entirely sure why a part of her cared as much as she did, and if Ben did know something, he wasn’t showing it.
He joined her in front of the mural wall and silently appraised the sketches. Ben’s architectural talent made her squirm under his inspection of her fresh sketches. She reminded herself that he’d praised her work before. He’d even chosen to support the shelter because Ollie loved it so much.
“They’re all Chance, right?”
“Yep.” Mia hadn’t realized he knew the shelter animals well enough to identify Chance in a rough sketch, but then again, the terrier was a legend around here. “I was trying to find the best way to show his upbeat attitude.”
Ben turned his attention to Chance. The happy dog had rolled onto his back, and Ollie was scratching away at his belly. One of Chance’s back legs was thumping hard enough it could still be heard over Ollie’s adorations. After a smile lit Ben’s face, he motioned toward one of the sketches. “They’re all good, but this is my favorite. The way his ears are forward while he’s sniffing the girl’s sandal takes years off but still shows his age. That isn’t easy to do in a 2-D sketch.”
“Thanks.”
When she’d met Ben for the first time, he’d had a dog, a Lab mix who’d died a few years ago. Before he left for Nepal in April, he’d mentioned wanting to get another dog when he got back, but he hadn’t yet.
“It’ll be different,” she said, “not working in pastels. I’m a bit worried it’ll look flat. It’s so easy to show light and dimension in pastel work. I’ll be using acrylics, so the project will have more of a cartoonish look than I’m used to.” Drawing portraits of dogs and cats had become her specialty, Mia reminded herself, and she was determined to rock this mural.
After pausing just long enough to give his words importance, Ben said, “You showed both in these sketches, and you were only using charcoal. You’ll be able to do it.”
She was about to thank him again when he reached out and brushed his thumb above her left brow, smoothing away what she guessed was a smudge of charcoal from not being mindful of the mess on her fingertips.
Mia stilled at his gesture. She could pretty much recall the number of times Ben had initiated any form of physical contact between them, and it wasn’t many. His touch sent an unexpected jolt of electricity down her limbs.
She swallowed as she realized a part of her was trying to memorize the feel of it. It had been a long time since she’d savored a man’s touch.
“You look tired, Mia.” He dropped his hand and returned it to his back pocket. “And before you tell me you’re fine and you’ve got everything under control, just try to remember you don’t have to do this alone.”
Her shoulders dropped. “I know that. I do. And thank you. It’s just so complicated.” She stole a glance at Ollie to make sure he was still one hundred percent absorbed in Chance. He was. “There is something I was, uh, hoping to ask you.” She did her best to keep her tone light, but emotion crept in at the end, and it was clear by the way his brows furrowed that he’d picked up on it.
“Did he…did he tell you what it was that he told me before I left?”
She’d wanted to ask so many times before. After today, she was done holding back.
Ben’s look was sharp and direct. “Yes.”
Mia exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. To keep the anger pressing in at bay, she busied herself by gathering up her charcoal pencils. “I don’t know if it was her or someone new, but there was someone after I left too.” She stole a look at Ollie. He was giggling as the eager dog licked his palm. “The funny part is that when he broke it to me about the first time, he said it was ten minutes in a car. That it meant nothing.”
“Mia, he—”
She held up her hand. Her insides might as well have been a shaken soda bottle. She struggled to keep her voice low and calm so as not to draw her son’s attention. “And up until the end, he was begging me to come back.” She nodded toward Ollie. “For Ollie’s sake, he kept saying.”
Before continuing, she pressed her thumb and forefinger against her temple and forehead. The headache from earlier was returning. “I went back to the house yesterday to get some things.” She stepped close and dropped her voice. Ben was at the hospital the night she delivered Ollie four weeks prematurely. He was there when she was taken in for a hysterectomy. He knew. “I know you’ll understand the significance when I tell you I found a condom wrapper on the bed.”
Surprise flashed across Ben’s face, and it was obvious he understood. His mouth fell open as if he were about to speak, then closed again. From the tightness that suddenly lined his jaw and the way his lips pressed together, she could tell he was more than surprised. He was angry.
His shoulders tensed, and he crossed over to the Cat-a-Climb, the now-empty cat play area that was part of his renovation designs. Mia followed him.
Across the room, Chance had switched from licking Ollie on the hand to the neck, which was the next available patch of bare skin, and her son’s laughter had escalated. This made a part of her wish to be seven again and to have the world full of small, surmountable problems. Like losing a father?
No, journeys weren’t necessarily easy at any age.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I don’t know what to say.”
She straightened. “Do you know who it was?”
He shook his head abruptly. “No. Not even a clue. Those last few months, we barely spoke at all.”
She wanted to unleash a tirade of all the things she’d been holding in, but she heard a quiet voice reminding her that all she was doing was airing her soiled laundry in front of Ben.
Shaking her head, she stepped back a foot. “I should get Ollie home.”
She’d turned and started to cross the room when Ben caught her hand. His dark-brown eyes were fierce with intensity. “Mia, it wasn’t you. It was never you. You and Ollie brought out the best in him; it just wasn’t enough. But that was his failing, not yours.”
Mia nodded and blinked back a flood of tears she’d not expected to press in behind the anger. He stepped in before she could brace herself. It hardly seemed real. She was in his arms, tucked against him, hot tears spilling onto his sweater.
And it was comforting in a way nothing else had been in a long time. Knowing it couldn’t last long, she wrapped her arms around his hips, soaking up a bit of the strength that carried him up rock faces that seemed impossible to scale. After a few
, practiced breaths, she found her voice. “It was hard for so long.”
His arms locked around her tighter, one around her back, the other hand locked tight over her hair, cradling the back of her head. “It’s over now. You can heal. No one wanted it to happen like this, but it’s over all the same.”
Mia pressed back a sob. There was so much there, slamming against the surface even harder because of Ben’s words. She wanted to give in and sob into his shoulder like a child, but across the room Ollie was still giggling at Chance. The last thing he needed right now was to see her fall apart.
With a strength she didn’t feel, she shoved the tears down and stepped back. She dragged the cuffs of her sleeves over her eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. “I just… I can’t.” Her throat locked up, preventing her from saying anything else. It was too big a truth to admit that if she held on to Ben now, she’d never want to let go.
And even if a part of her didn’t want to admit it, that wasn’t what any of them needed right now.
Chapter 6
Mia loved her Saturday mornings volunteering at the shelter more than any other morning of the week. The happy place had been a part of her weekly routine for half her life for a reason. The animals and the success stories were more healing than therapy to her. And the staff and volunteers had become like her extended family.
She’d been bringing Ollie with her since he was still a toddler. Back then, he was content to pet Chance and Trina or watch the cats in the Cat-a-Climb. Now that he was older, to keep him busy for a three- or four-hour stretch, she’d bring along a tote bag full of fresh books. He’d sit for hours in front of the cat cages and dog kennels and “read” to the animals. For the most part, Ollie’s version of reading was to look at the pictures and make up his own stories.
Some of the staff and volunteers had noticed that while Ollie was plopped in front of cages, flipping picture-book pages, and telling stories, he often held the interest and attention of the dogs and cats he was reading to. So much so that Megan was checking with the shelter’s lawyer about starting an official kid-oriented reading program, and Mia was crossing her fingers it would happen.