Like a Love Song

by Camille Eide

  Gingerly, Sue lifted the stone away from its resting place. It was much longer than Joe’s find, but definitely a hand-hewn piece, its edges sharpened.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s a scraper. Good find, Sue.” He nodded. “Bet you didn’t know you had an archeologist in you just waiting to burrow out, huh?”

  “Actually, I did know. I was just hoping to keep it a secret a little while longer. Didn’t want to make you look bad.”

  “Ah, sparing my ego. Nice.”

  By the time they reached the top of Table Rock, the cold wind had sapped the feeling from her legs and made her knee ache. She went to a level place near the drop-off and surveyed the view.

  Low, brown hills in the distance hemmed the valley, which was a blend of green fields and sagebrush-dotted desert. A lone highway zigzagged through alfalfa farms, turning into a thin ribbon that eventually tapered off west toward the Cascade Mountains. Biting wind, far stronger up here than below, whipped across her cheeks.

  Joe watched her from several yards away. On top of that flat expanse of rock, against the distant blur of hills on the horizon, he looked more massive than ever, an imposing figure against the silent, distant valley. Where no one else was around for miles.

  Sue’s belly tightened.

  As he approached, Sue hugged her arms around her middle, squeezing her coat tighter. “About ready to hike back down?”

  “I don’t know about you, but hiking makes me hungry. How about a snack and a hot drink first?”

  Sue felt her brows creep up. “Right. I’ll just pop into the kitchen behind that sagebrush and fix you right up.”

  “Okay. Or we could just use what I brought.” He pointed.

  A cooler, camp chairs, and a box of stuff lay beyond a small rise a few dozen yards away near a rock-lined fire pit.

  He’d come here earlier in the day and dropped off a full-blown picnic? What next—karaoke and cocktails?

  “I’ll get a fire going.” Joe grabbed a dry chunk of juniper. “Got a couple camp chairs. You want to set those up?”

  While Joe built a fire in the pit, Sue set up the chairs and placed them a safe distance from the flames, then dragged the cooler between them.

  Joe hunted through a box and pulled out a thermos and a couple mugs. He sat down and offered one to her. “Cocoa?”

  She took the mug, but … why had he gone to such lengths for a little hike? Something was fishy about all this.

  When the fire was well ablaze, Joe removed some foil packages from the cooler. Leftover turkey and potatoes. A box of graham crackers. Marshmallows. Chocolate bars.

  Did he know about her chocolate obsession and how rarely she indulged? The whole setup was beginning to feel like more than a simple hike. Him bringing stuff up early. Food. Chocolate.

  Miles from another living soul.

  What’s going on?

  Her heartbeat shifted up a gear.

  Stay calm.

  “So why are you doing this?”

  Stoking the fire, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean all this stuff—a fire and food and chocolate and …”

  “And what?”

  Tons of things. Things guys just don’t do unless they want something. She jutted her chin. “Buying my Harley for more than it’s worth. Finding my dualie and secretly fixing it up.”

  A flush crept into his face. Like he was busted and he knew it.

  Her breath quickened. Sue looked around. In the box was a bundle she hadn’t noticed. A blanket.

  A blanket? What part of the “outing” was that for? What had he really been planning? “What’s going on, Joe? Are you hitting on me?” The pitch of her voice rose and carried. She scanned the empty terrain and distant valley beyond.

  Where no one can see or hear us …

  Adrenaline kicked her pulse into double-time. “Or did you bring me up here all alone in the middle of nowhere so you could—”

  Icy fear shot through her veins.

  She bolted from her seat.

  * * *

  So I could what? Joe rose and stepped toward her. “No way, Sue. I just wanted—”

  She retreated farther.

  “Sue.” He took a step toward her.

  She backed away faster, stumbling on rocks as she got closer to the edge of the plateau—to the drop-off.

  “Whoa—hold on!” Joe rushed toward her, dread tightening every muscle. He had to stop her, but he didn’t want to move even closer to the edge and reinforce her fear.

  Fear of what? I could never …

  He halted, palms up. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She checked behind her, then studied him, her face stark white.

  God, You gotta do something. “I just wanted you to get away and take a break. After everything that’s been going on. That’s it. And the food was just leftovers.” Mostly.

  Arms folded taut across her stomach, she watched him as he spoke, as if measuring every word for lies or truth.

  What else could he say? All he’d wanted was for her to have a good time, eat her fill, and relax for a change. To discover she could trust a man. Apparently, that was asking too much.

  Sue lifted her chin. “What about the blanket?”

  The blanket? What did she think—that he had planned to attack her? “The blanket was just in case you got cold.” His tone fell flat under the full weight of her suspicion and fear. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  She didn’t seem convinced. She glanced behind her at the edge of the cliff, as if tumbling down a steep embankment was preferable to being near him.

  How could she even think that? Does she really believe I could hurt her? Joe dragged a hand over his face.

  Had those past accusations lingered on him like a visible stain?

  He pivoted away, stung from being under such vile suspicion. He stood with his back to her, hands on his hips.

  “No.” Sue’s voice was a raspy whisper. “Oh no …”

  No what? He wasn’t even near her. He turned and faced her, wary of what he would see.

  Distress filled her eyes and tightened her features. She looked small, alone. She didn’t meet his eyes, but instead fixed her gaze on the fire pit. “Joe, I’m sorry. I guess it’s too easy for me to go there sometimes.”

  With everyone? Or just me? He sucked in a breath. Held it. Let it go, man. “It’s okay.” He forced himself to say the words. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  She said nothing, just stared at the fire, its crackling flames snapping echoes in the stillness.

  “Do you want to hang by the fire for a few minutes?” Or however long it takes to melt that fear lingering in your eyes?

  Without making eye contact, she nodded.

  Joe led the way. He stirred up the fire while Sue pulled a chair closer to the heat. She sat down and stretched out trembling hands, warming them.

  Still afraid? His heart twisted. Willing his fists to unclench, he took his seat.

  “It’s not you, Joe,” she whispered, anguish trailing each word.

  You sure about that? “Do you want to tell me what it is, then?”

  Something painful churned beneath the surface of her strained expression. “It’s not really a campfire-and-hot-cocoa kind of topic.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  She unscrewed the thermos and poured steaming liquid into a mug, then held it out to him, but he shook his head. Sue clasped her hands around the mug as if trying to capture some of the heat. “Men have always been … interested in me.” Her voice was small.

  “Like physically?”

  Nodding, she stared into the fire again, her eyes dark reservoirs of silent pain. “As far back as I can remember. Even as a kid.”

  The hollowness of her voice constricted his heart. Just once, God. I’d love to get my hands on every last one of those pieces of trash. Just once. “Sue.” His voice rumbled across the stillness. “The ones who treated you that way were sick. Not everyone
is like that.” I’m not like that. “You know that, right?”

  She met his eyes for the briefest moment, as if it cost her dearly to let him see inside her. “I’m afraid I get signals mixed up sometimes.”

  He looked at her, willing her to see into his heart. “I’m not like that, Sue. I would never hurt you. Ever.”

  Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I know that. I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She nodded, then turned away and wiped furiously at her cheeks.

  Aw, Sue … He grabbed the foil packs of food warming at the edge of the fire and offered her one. He’d have to watch his every word and move from now on. Make sure nothing he did or said could be seen as putting the moves on her. Double sure.

  After a good-sized helping of turkey, mashed potatoes, and casual conversation, Sue seemed to ease up a little.

  He polished off the last of the food, then stoked the fire with a few more hunks of juniper. Dusky gray darkened the eastern horizon. Joe returned to his seat, while Sue got the blanket and pulled it around her. He caught the hint of a smile on her lips. “What?”

  Sue nodded at the empty food containers. “Did you get enough to eat there?”

  “I’m good.” He patted his belly. “For now.”

  She leaned back and yawned. “Good. Because I was afraid I’d have to tell Jasmine the legend of the hungry Table Rock giant is a true story after all.”

  “Isn’t it?” Chuckling, he opened the bag of marshmallows and grabbed a roasting skewer. “The way I always heard it, the hungry giant is a slobbering troll with jagged fangs and foul breath. But from hearing Jasmine tell it, your version sounds pretty tame.”

  “Tame?” Sue briefed him on her version of the legend, then listened to his. They were both chuckling by the time he finished.

  “Somehow, I don’t think Jasmine would be scared of either giant,” Sue said.

  They talked about the other kids for a while, comparing notes.

  Joe slid a hot, roasted marshmallow off the stick and smooshed it between chocolate and graham crackers before offering the sticky treat to Sue. He told her about Chaz and his newest obsession with the helicopters and planes that flew drills over the ranch. “Chaz showed me his plan for shooting down one of the helicopters. He’s got a schematic drawn out showing all the variable trajectories.” Joe stabbed another marshmallow. “It’s pretty good, actually.”

  “What?” The word came out muffled around a mouthful of marshmallow.

  “He wants to shoot it down with a car. You know, like on Die Hard 4?”

  She shook her head.

  “You haven’t seen that? Oh man. Bruce Willis is a cop who’s getting boxed in and shot at by thugs. Trouble is, he’s in a patrol car and they’re in a helicopter. There’s this scene where you think they’re going to nail him, but just as Bruce is about to come out of this underground tunnel, he guns it and forces the car up the side of some concrete slab thing—as he bails out—and launches it into the air like a missile. The car smashes into the helicopter and blows it up.” He turned his marshmallow over the coals. “Best exploding helicopter scene ever.” He held the roasting skewer with his knees while he assembled another s’more.

  Sue looked horrified. “You think he might …?”

  “Nah, it’s all special effects, Sue. Don’t worry. Chaz could never do it. He gets a little wound up sometimes, but he knows the difference between reality and the movies.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep. Anyway, he’ll forget all about the aircraft drills soon. I’ve got too much for him to do. He’s my shadow, remember?” He downed the s’more in two bites, then impaled another marshmallow and aimed it at the flames.

  “Okay. But if I hear reports of an aircraft getting shot down by a car, you’re in big trouble.” Her lips were stretched to a broad smile. In the firelight, her cheeks glowed. She looked warm, full, and relaxed—more so than he’d seen in a long time. Just as he’d hoped for.

  A trickle of relief seeped through him, easing away a little more of the earlier sting.

  Sue sighed. “Actually, since you’ve been working with Chaz, I’ve seen amazing progress in him.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Me too. I mean …” Sue wiped crumbs from the corner of her mouth. “I’m really grateful for all the extra time you’ve put in and for all the things you’ve taught him. I couldn’t have done all that. Thank you.”

  His marshmallow caught fire, sparing him from having to make eye contact. Watching the dancing flame, he told himself he was glad he could help, glad she was pleased. No. It was more than gladness—much more.

  But as he blew the flame out on the charred marshmallow, a searing truth brought him to his senses: he couldn’t love a woman who couldn’t love him back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sue had read the same paragraph aloud from Charlotte’s Web twice. Luckily for her, Daisy and Donovan didn’t mind repetition.

  But a nagging reminder of what she’d done to Joe would not let up. Joe’s helping his ex-adopted family move into their new home—the home Joe was paying for—served as both a reminder and glaring proof of her colossal mistake up on Table Rock. Why had she panicked and said those things to him? What was wrong with her? She’d accused a man who went out of his way for others of trying to seduce her.

  No, worse than seduce. Maybe she hadn’t voiced it, but he knew exactly what she was accusing him of, even if she’d only entertained the idea for a few seconds.

  Verbally.

  Sue groaned.

  “Does your tummy ache, Miss Su-san?”

  “No, Daisy. I’m just tired.” And miserable.

  “You tired? Want to take a nap and read later?”

  Sure. The Rip Van Winkle kind of nap.

  The next several days ticked past like a countdown clock. When she flipped the calendar page to December, a renewed rush of panic hit, sending her temples pounding. A large payment was due in three weeks. She tried again to brainstorm a solution to the monthly income shortfall, but nothing came to mind.

  The ranch was a sinking ship. She could no longer close her eyes and keep hoping. Maybe it was time to wave the white flag and admit defeat.

  And start thinking about other living arrangements for her kids. If she could bring herself to do it.

  On Thursday evening, Sue steeled herself and called Layne.

  Her friend suggested they file the paperwork now, so they could get the process of finding placements for the kids rolling.

  “No.”

  A thick pause on Layne’s end. “No? I don’t understand. What else were you—”

  “I mean, I know we have to prepare, but I just don’t want anything filed yet. Can we hold off on all that? Please?”

  “Sorry, Sue. I know how hard this is.”

  Layne would make sure the kids were well placed when the time came. And though knowing that helped a little, nothing could ease the sting of Sue’s failure.

  “I’ll be ready, Sue. Just say the word. Call me if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “Thanks.” She tried for an upbeat tone and almost succeeded. “Maybe you can keep your ears open for any millionaires who have a special place in their heart for unwanted kids.”

  After the call, Sue invited Linda and Karla into her office and told them she would be letting them go at Christmas. Might as well let them plan for the holiday, since there was a good chance the kids wouldn’t be here.

  Karla’s eyes misted. “I’ve grown so attached to these kids, Miss Susan.”

  So have I. More than I ever thought possible. Sue suppressed the rising ache. “I know, Karla. I wish there was some other way. I really do.”

  Linda reached over and gave Sue’s shoulder a pat. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this place and these kids. I’m still hoping you can—”

  Chaz burst into the office screaming, “Help! Call 911!”

  Sue sprang to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
/>
  “It was an accident—I didn’t mean to—”

  Linda pulled out her cell while Chaz babbled incoherently.

  “Chaz—who? Where? Show me!”

  With a shaking arm, Chaz pointed out the window toward the shop, gasping between sentences. “Truck launch failed. Crushed Joe. Can’t get it off him!”

  Oh no. No. NO! Please, God, no! Panic froze her veins, deadening her limbs. “Call Bertie!” she yelled to Karla. Then she ran outside as fast as her knee would allow, tore open the shop door, and burst inside, sick with dread.

  It looked as if Joe’s truck had slipped off metal ramps and plowed into the now-bent shop door.

  No sign of Joe.

  A herd of kids and staff poured in behind her.

  Heart slamming her ribcage, Sue ran to the front end of the truck.

  Pinned between the truck and door, Joe was crumpled over to one side. Not conscious. Not breathing.

  She clapped a hand over her mouth. Dead? He’s dead? No, God, please … he can’t be ... With a shaking hand, she touched his neck and felt for a pulse.

  A faint beat.

  “Linda, tell the paramedics to hurry! He’s alive, but I don’t know how long—”

  Someone screamed.

  God, what do I do? She turned to the others. “We need to move the truck. Karla, get inside and put the truck in neutral.”

  “No! Don’t do it, Miss Susan!” Haley squealed. “I saw a movie where a truck pinned this lady against a tree and she was cut in half, but she was still alive until they moved the truck and then she died—”

  “Shut up, Haley!” someone yelled.

  Karla went green.

  “Okay, Karla, you take Linda’s phone and wait outside for the paramedics. Linda, put the truck in neutral.” Sue touched Joe’s neck again. Still a pulse, but she couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

  At least he had color, a good sign.

  “Sue?” Bertie’s voice, panicked.

  “Bertie, help me! Go to the other side and hold him up. I’ll get this side.” Sue looked around at the kids. “Deeg, Edgar—get some others and push the truck back.” She squeezed in between the truck and shop door and hooked Joe’s left arm over her shoulders.