He shoved his hand through his hair, dislodging Esme’s hand.
“You can be friends, sure.” He took Chloe’s hand and nodded curtly at Esme.
“Thanks.” He headed toward the door, towing Chloe along. “Let’s go home.”
Except that they didn’t go home. As he buckled Chloe into her booster seat, he suddenly realized he didn’t want to go home to an empty wooden structure in the middle of nowhere. He wanted to watch Luz Wilkinson play with his daughter. Make her laugh. Teach her to ride. Safely.
He smiled a little, thinking of Luz’s clear amusement at all his efforts to protect Chloe from the dangers of falling off a pony not much higher than the standard issue bike. Or bed.
Chloe patted his cheek, not arguing for once about why she still used what she disdainfully called her baby seat.
“Daddy, you’re happy,” she noted, almost curiously.
For a second, the words stabbed. Had he been that bad, that careless in pretending for her, in helping her find her own comfort? But just as quickly, the worry fled and he realized that she was right. They were going to Luz’s and suddenly, he’d found happiness again.
“You know what,” he answered, as he climbed into his own seat and grinned back at her. “You’re right! I’m happy.”
“Real happy?” she pressed. Leave it to Chloe to never settle for a little of anything.
But his grin just widened. “Totally, absolutely, amazingly happy!” he agreed cheerfully and added the ultimatum they always made into a game. “Take it or leave it!”
She laughed. “I’ll take it!”
• • •
Luz stretched her shoulders and rotated her arms. Maybe she should start jogging, something she’d done for so many years before moving back here. Just keeping up the property and caring for the animals seemed to consume all her time and energy, though. Still, she shouldn’t be so exhausted. She’d only unloaded a truck bed full of hay, after all. And Ross had helped her. Good thing he did odd jobs and had been willing to pick it up for her, saving her a trip to the feed store almost thirty miles away. She wished he’d let her pay for his favor, though, instead of giving her that smile and telling her he’d do anything for a woman as pretty as her. Folks around Rose Creek helped each other, and she loved that, but Ross had bills to pay, too.
The menagerie had been fed and contained, more or less, in their end of the barn. The pit bull with no name was stretched out on the floor, but looked up and wagged when Luz came in. The dog looked a lot better, just in the brief time she’d been here. The continuing effects of the vet’s prescription and regular meals—and affection—were working wonders. Luz bent to pet her. The dog hadn’t chosen to be a pit bull. She hadn’t chosen to be forced, probably, into a ring with a meaner dog intent on tearing her apart for human amusement and profit.
The sound of a car coming down the drive startled her; she hadn’t been expecting anyone. She glanced out and saw Aaron’s SUV. Funny, he usually called when they were coming. Friday was usually an off day, because he’d bring Chloe early on Saturdays to spend more time than she could on weekdays.
“Well, here we go,” she muttered, not at all sure Aaron would want Chloe around a pit bull. She stepped back out the door to meet them on the porch as they clattered up the stairs. Chloe raced straight to her, wrapped her arms around her waist, and squeezed.
“Dad surprised me,” she chortled. “He brought me here instead of taking me home.”
Aaron was grinning at his daughter’s excitement. “I hope you don’t mind being a surprise—and being surprised.”
“Flattered,” Luz assured, hugging Chloe back briefly. “But are you here to ride? I could turn on the outside lights, but it’s a little late—”
“No. I promised her she could ride as much as Rumbles would let her tomorrow.” He shifted a little, as if uneasy.
“Actually, I thought maybe you’d let Chloe and me treat you to dinner.”
“Dinner? Now that is a surprise, but—”
Chloe headed toward the door. “Too late! Dad has it in the truck! Go get it,” she pleaded, softening her tone to relay the order. “I’m starving.”
Blissfully unaware that both adults were staring at her, bemused, she reached for the doorknob.
“Well—uhmm, I guess I’d be delighted.” Luz shrugged. “Please. Go get it. The girl’s starving.”
Aaron laughed and headed back toward his vehicle, giving Chloe a gentle spin that sent her toward the kitchen. The pit bull was in the living room. Nobody had come into the house since the dog had come home. And perfectly nice dogs sometimes reacted differently to children than adults…
Luz needn’t have worried, at least not about Chloe.
“Oh, the poor little thing! It’s been hurt!”
Apparently she’d figured out something about approaching animals from being around the horses. Slowly she held out a hand and made clucking noises. “What’s its name? Can I pet it? Is it a boy or a girl?”
“Calm down, calm down. Come here, girl.” Slowly she held her hand out and patted the dog’s head, and let her sniff Chloe’s hand. Chloe patted her gently, but with increasing confidence, and after a moment, the dog leaned into her little legs, making soft, contented snorts.
“She sounds like a pig,” Chloe declared. “What’s her name?“
“A little help? I’m about to drop—”Aaron came in, a collection of bags, drinks, and utensils clutched precariously in his arms and shelved against his chest. That damned chest. With a sideways glance at the girl and dog, Luz plucked the packages away, studiously avoiding his eyes—and any of the bags that were balanced against his chest. If he only knew…
She ruthlessly tamped down a mental count of how long it had been since she’d touched a man’s chest.
“What is that?” Aaron plopped the rest of dinner on the coffee table and stared at Chloe and her new friend.
“Isn’t she the coolest dog ever? I mean, she’s ugly—because she got hurt—but she’s—” Chloe stopped. “Luz, you still haven’t told me her name!”
“True. That’s because she doesn’t have a name yet.”
“How long have you had a pit bull?” Aaron asked. “Are those scars from a fight?”
Apparently the dog found all the commotion exhausting. She yawned and plopped down on Chloe’s feet, making the little girl giggle. “She should be around when it’s cold! My feet would stay warm all the time.”
“Let’s eat and I’ll tell you why she doesn’t have a name,” Luz offered, nodding at the coffee table. “Come on, Chloe, help your dad move dinner to the kitchen. Just slide your feet out carefully.”
Aaron’s face was implacable. He didn’t look angry, exactly. Not even too worried. Maybe he’d be okay around dogs. He’d gotten used to the horses and ponies after all.
She smiled at him. “You surprised me, and I surprised you. That’s fair, right?”
“I think so,” Chloe called from the kitchen. “Come on! I’m starving.”
“The girl’s starving,” she reminded Aaron. “Let’s eat. You can ask about the dog with no name while we’re enjoying your surprise.”
While Chloe washed up, Aaron opened containers holding fried chicken, wings, sides, and vegetable soup. “We really didn’t know what to bring,” he explained. “The soup was Chloe’s idea. She thought you might be a vegetarian.”
“You know. Because you like animals so much,” Chloe explained. “Oh, don’t worry, though,” she went on. She smiled at Luz with that perfect innocence of the very young. “I didn’t say a word to Dad about all the secret animals.”
Chapter Six
“I can’t believe you have a zoo hidden in the barn and I never caught on,” Aaron grumbled, casting a glance at his daughter, who took up most of the sofa. She’d fallen asleep after eating and scolding Luz for not having picked a name out for the dog already. She’d been an active conspirator, telling her Dad about the donkey and the weird birds and the cats and the kitten and…
“Oops. I told a secret!”
“Your dad could have known,” Luz had comforted. “How he never noticed the closed door and the noises is a mystery to me anyway. And they’re not really secret.”
Now, Aaron sat in the chair across from the couch, while Luz took up the smallest possible space in the corner of the couch, wanting to let Chloe sleep until Aaron went. She didn’t mind that he seemed to be in no hurry.
“Not a zoo,” she protested. “Let alone a secret collection. Some of them are a nuisance, and if they ran all over and got away, I’d be responsible for them. Besides, Candy sometimes chases after horses when visitors come out to ride. Chloe just found out when you had to go get that expired sticker replaced. She heard them remind me that feeding time had come and gone.”
“What did she call them? Your menagerie?”
“A few animals without homes. I couldn’t very well let a local legend like Candy be put to death, could I?”
“But what do you do with all those critters? Nowhere to put them…” He straightened a little. “Do you work? I mean—”
“You mean how do I pay bills when I board one horse?”
“I’d intended to pay for Chloe’s lessons—”
Luz waved him off. “Good heavens. I had the pony and I have the time.” She stood, stretching. “Would you like to sit on the porch or in the kitchen? No point in waking Chloe until you’re ready to go.”
He cast a glance at Chloe, and motioned towards the door. “Outside might be nice,” he decided. They went out, and Luz chose the big wooden rocker. That left Aaron the creaky old porch swing. She didn’t want to romanticize the thing, just barely big enough for two. Or maybe just perfectly sized for two. She thought briefly of Ann and her husband sitting there, occasionally forgetting they were visiting and tuning her out…
What had he asked? Oh, yes. About her employment.
“My dad would take animals anyone abandoned or just needed to get rid of. He couldn’t ever say no to anyone or anything,” she explained. “But he worked in the oil fields a lot, so Mom more or less got the credit—or the blame. After…when he was gone, Mom just kept going.”
“So you’ve always been here, helping her?”
“No.” She shook her head and left it at that.
For a moment they were silent, surrounded by the mild air. Winter hadn’t ended, technically; spring was a few weeks away, but most of the cold had ended.
“That’s right,” he said abruptly. “You said you taught first grade. Here?”
Too bad she’d confided that bit of information. Of course if she hadn’t, sooner or later someone in Rose Creek would have.
“For a while,” she answered, and fell silent again, swinging her foot absently. “But no, not locally. Atlanta.”
Out somewhere near the barn, an owl hooted. Luz jerked, startled, and her foot hit the porch with a resounding thud.
“The zookeeper’s afraid of an owl?”
Luz stood and stretched. “Terrified, obviously.” She smiled. “You may or may not know that in some areas of rural Mexico, lechusas— barn owls—are witches who can shape shift. And steal souls, especially of the very young. Are you scared?”
“Of witches? Hell, no. They melt.” He stood up, too, and glanced at his watch. “Time for us to go?”
“You don’t have to leave. But I need to put stuff up…” He had moved closer, and just for a moment she wanted to sag into him, or trip and fall against him. Just as quickly, she forced the urge away, reminding herself that he was involved. Last time, she hadn’t been the other woman, legally. She’d been the woman. The wife—of a man involved with another woman. Never again.
She wondered if she’d shown the anger that still bubbled up when she thought of her ex because Aaron moved around her and opened the door, suddenly ready to leave. Maybe he’d seen the pain that knifed through her whenever memories of Brian and his betrayal caught her unprepared. The sadness.
He walked over and looked down at his sleeping girl, and tenderness replaced whatever else his expression might have held.
The sadness cut deeper as she remembered Lily. Brian was gone, not a part of her life. She really hadn’t missed him. But losing the little girl he’d called hers…She blinked back tears and went into the kitchen.
There really wasn’t much to clean up. She put a couple of the boxes back in a bag and threw out a plate.
“Do you mind if we come early?” Aaron leaned against the doorjamb. “Chloe says Rumbles will forget her if she doesn’t ride more.”
“Sure, come whenever.”
“You okay?”
She blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked.
He shrugged. “You just seemed…different, all of a sudden. Like part of you just…I don’t know. Went off.”
“Mood swings. You know, if you don’t want to wake Chloe, she could stay. I could throw a blanket over her—”
“Thanks, but even if she wakes up when I move her, she’ll conk out in the car.”
He waved his hand toward the table when she held the bag out for him. “Keep it. We may need breakfast if Chloe gets her way about what time we should be here.”
He bent to pick her up, and surprisingly, while the child shifted a little and murmured something against her dad’s shoulder, she didn’t wake up.
He started toward the porch, but stopped to look back at Luz.
“You’re not old enough to have taught very long,” he said, as if the thought had just occurred to him. “And if you didn’t live here…” He hesitated. “What I guess I’m asking is—is there someone else? Not Esme’s imaginary boyfriend, but—”
“There was. I’m divorced.” There, she’d said it, even if she didn’t know why he wondered.
He nodded. “The sadness.” There was no doubt in his voice. She wondered how much he knew about sadness over a relationship ending as hers had.
His marriage hadn’t ended by choice. And though the pain must torture him daily, he’d honored those vows. He’d been faithful. Somehow, she sensed that.
He turned the SUV on from the porch and managed a small nod without dislodging Chloe from her resting place. “Goodnight, Luz.”
“Goodnight.”
She didn’t stand on the porch and watch them leave, too aware of the sudden emptiness around her.
• • •
Something heavy and warm moved on the edge of the mattress behind Luz, bringing her instantly awake. Apprehension bordering on fear gripped her, making her hold her breath and keep still while she figured out options and actions. Rose Creek hadn’t had a homicide that she’d heard of. There had been a rape, a few drunken assaults, but no alcohol hung in the air.
Her pistol was in a dresser drawer, across the room. Out of reach.
The dog—where the hell was the dog? Was she cowering in the kitchen—she’d been so abused. Who could blame her?
What if—her breath caught. What if the dog had been killed?
I’ll count to three. Then I’ll roll out of my bed and get the gun.
Her hand tightened on her quilt as she tensed to roll.
A snort gusted against her head, followed by the rough rasp of a tongue across the exposed skin of her cheek.
She rolled, realizing who the intruder was just as she hit the floor in a tangle of linens. Stupid, ungrateful dog.
“Luz?” called Aaron’s voice, worried. And then, from the door, “Luz, is everything okay?”
She exhaled. “Yes. Everything is fine.”
“Because I heard this noise—”
She propped herself on an elbow, careful to keep the bedspread and sheet blanket wrapped around her.
“A loud, kind of heavy thud,” he continued, humor erasing any of his previous concern. “It’s okay, baby. Everything’s fine,” he called over his shoulder.
Chloe popped i
nto the room. She looked at the dog on the bed and Luz on the floor, and giggled.
“She knocked you off the bed!”
“She didn’t, exactly,” Luz muttered. “More like kissed me off—” she stopped, seeing Aaron’s lips twitch. Last thing she needed was him laughing at her.
“Let me help you up,” he offered, holding out a hand.
She glared at him. “I’m not an invalid, Aaron. I can get up.”
“Still.” He moved his hand closer.
But he didn’t know that she’d done her laundry last night after they left. That she’d sat down on the bed in a towel, waiting for the last load to finish, knowing she had other nightclothes, but wanting the leopard print nightgown. And that she had fallen asleep in a towel and never put a thing on. Not a thing, although sometime during the night she’d woken with very little covering her and burrowed under the covers.
The dog had never gotten on her bed before, darn it! Of all the inconvenient—and of all the stubborn, stupid men—
With Chloe still giggling in the doorway, standing up and confronting him stark naked couldn’t happen. Typically not her kind of move, anyway, but—she frowned, and tried to put meaning in her words.
“You and Chloe should wait in the kitchen. I’ll need to get dressed, anyway.”
He pulled his hand back. “Just looked like you could use a little help. Chloe, why don’t we go so Luz can get dressed?”
“Sure.” She clucked at the dog, and trotted off. After a moment, the pit bull jumped down and followed her.
“Hmmm…I believe you were leaving, too?”
He pulled his hand back slowly. “Yeah. Sure.” And then came the dimples, and that quick, killer smile.
“Although I have to wonder why you won’t let me help you up. You’re practically mummified. Makes me wonder what would happen if I grabbed a corner of something and pulled.”
“Curiosity kills a lot of cats. Go away, Aaron!”
He shrugged and went, looking back at her with a wide grin as he locked the door from the inside and pulled it shut after him.
Wildflower Redemption Page 5