As he worked, she noticed the way his muscles flexed like strands of steel wire as he tied the strips at intervals around the splint. There was confidence in his expression and certainty in his eyes. “Pretty creative,” she said, wincing at the sudden pressure around her leg.
“I’m a handyman, remember?” he said, tying the last strip in place. “Ready to give it a try?”
She exhaled sharply and nodded. “Talk about giving me the shirt off your back.”
“I’ve got a dozen more just like it in my closet at home. Now let’s get you back to the cabin and ice your ankle.”
“Let me help you, Mommy.”
Justin was more hindrance than help, but Cassandra didn’t have the heart to discourage his efforts. Together he and Turner managed to get her to her feet.
“I’ll piggyback you for a ways,” Turner said.
“I’m too heavy,” she protested, feeling an increased sense of helplessness.
“My toolbox at work, now that’s heavy. I’m used to lugging it around.”
“So now I’m a toolbox?”
“Only much cuter,” he said, and Cassandra was certain she saw his cheeks redden at the comment.
She tried to take a step on her own, but the pain was too severe. Reluctantly agreeing to Turner’s offer, she gingerly climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. His skin felt warm and firm, and she felt his muscles respond to the extra burden. She seemed to be suddenly floating as Turner beckoned to Justin and then started down the trail.
They reached the embankment a short time later, and Turner put her down to assess the descent. Cassandra could see that the loose rocks and dirt posed a problem, especially to someone in her condition.
“What about over there?” she asked, pointing to a grassy slope on the far side of the embankment that was freckled with exposed tree roots and smooth, weathered rocks.
Turner went over and examined the grassy slope. “It should work,” he called to her. Returning, he helped her over to the place he had selected for their descent. "I'll get Justin down first,” he said. Then holding onto Justin firmly, he started down, using the tree roots as toe and finger holds to cautiously pick his way along.
“Let’s go faster, Turner,” Justin said, his eyes dancing.
“Not now, little man.”
When they reached the bottom, Turner looked up the slope at Cassandra and nodded in encouragement. “You can do this,” he said.
He instructed Justin to remain there and then climbed up beside Cassandra to provide assistance. She set her jaw determinedly and started down, stabilizing herself with her arms and keeping her injured ankle slightly elevated so she didn’t snag it on a tree root or a rock. Turner helped steady her, but the surface was uneven and every time she slid over a bump, it jarred her. She gritted her teeth and did her best to hide the pain, knowing it would upset Justin to have her cry out in agony.
When she reached the bottom, Turner helped her stand up. She leaned against him for support, her muscles trembling from the strain.
When they were ready to continue, Turner had her climb on his back again. With Justin in front so he could keep his eye on him, they started out once more.
The return journey lasted less than half the time, and Turner kept up a steady pace. With each step he took, her leg jolted slightly, and she tried to keep her mind off the pain by keeping a watchful eye on Justin.
Cassandra could feel Turner perspiring and hear his breathing growing heavier. She suggested he stop and rest, but he refused to slow the pace or let her down. He kept encouraging Justin to walk faster, and several times he took Justin by the hand and walked him along when the little boy wanted to stop and explore.
When they finally reached the cabin, Turner carried Cassandra into the living room and helped her into an easy chair. He placed a pillow on top of the footstool and slid it under her leg, to elevate her ankle. Then he got a plastic grocery bag and filled it with ice cubes from the refrigerator.
Cassandra winced as he removed the splint and her shoe.
Placing the cold compress on her swollen ankle, he said, “I saw a bottle of aspirin in the cupboard. I’ll get you a couple of tablets for pain.”
“Thanks,” she replied, shifting in her chair to make herself comfortable.
Turner came back into the living room with a glass of water and the medication. She popped the tablets into her mouth, raised the glass to her lips, and swallowed them in one gulp.
“They’ll kick in soon,” he said, leaving the room momentarily.
Justin climbed into her arms to console her. He stroked her hair and said, “Poor Mommy.”
Cassandra cuddled him in the realization that his love and attention complemented the pain medication.
“Looks like you’re in good hands,” Turner said, putting on a clean T-shirt as he came back into the living room.
“The best,” she replied, kissing Justin on the cheek.
Turner sat beside her on the arm of the chair. “How you holding up?”
She hesitated before answering. “It’s funny how you take things for granted, isn’t it?” she said, painfully readjusting her ankle on the pillow. “We walk or run and never give it a second thought. And then something like this happens, and it sure makes you appreciate the simple things.”
“Can I get you anything more?”
“Do you have any spare ankles with you by any chance?”
Turner pretended to look in his toolbox. “Let me see. I’ve got an extra toilet kit, a safety chain, some duct tape, a pack of chewing gum, and a bunch of tools. But no spare ankles.
Sorry.”
“And you call yourself a handyman.”
“I didn’t say I was a good one.”
She laughed. “Actually you’re a great one. The splint really helped. I’m sorry about your shirt though. But you can have it back when I’m done with it.” She crinkled her eyes as she smiled.
“Sure. I can always use rags at work.”
She laughed louder but stopped when she moved her ankle accidentally. “I’ll buy you a nice shirt when this is all over, I promise.”
“The old ones make better rags. Nobody steals them.”
She paused and looked at him curiously. “Were you this funny in high school?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have a great sense of humor. Anybody ever tell you that?”
“My fashion designer and hair stylist mention it all the time.”
She laughed again, careful to keep her ankle steady.
They talked for a while longer, reminiscing about the day’s adventures. At length Turner nudged her and said, “Looks like the Energizer Bunny’s batteries finally ran down.”
Justin had fallen asleep in her arms, his chin drooping against his chest.
“Would you mind carrying him into the bedroom?”
Cassandra asked.
“No problem.” Turner cradled him carefully in his arms and made his way into the far bedroom. When he returned, Cassandra held out her arms to him.
“I think I’d like to go lie down on the bed myself,” she said.
“This chair is hurting my back.”
Turner took her by the hands. “Should we do it piggyback style or carry-the-bride-over-the-threshold style?”
She smiled wryly. “The piggyback thing worked better.”
He crouched down, and she put her arms around his neck. When he stood back up, Cassandra felt no sign of strain from him due to the added weight. She held on tight as he carried her into her bedroom and set her gently on the bed. As he helped her lie down, their faces were inches apart, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. She looked into his eyes and saw something she hadn’t noticed before. It was a reflection of growing feelings and desire. And she wondered if he saw the same expression in her eyes.
A question raced through her mind. Was he going to kiss her? She was uncertain of what her reaction would be if he did. She was a married woman, after all. At
least according to the letter of the law. But as far as the spirit of the law went . . .
She had her answer the next instant when he suddenly straightened up and reached for a pillow. “I’ll put this under your leg, to keep your ankle elevated,” he said, breaking eye contact. “You going to be okay?”
“Uh-huh. Thanks, again.”
He walked to the door and turned and looked at her. “I’ll make dinner in a while. You get some rest.”
She nodded and settled back in the bed, trying to sort through her emotions. She had only been away from Brad for a few days, and in the meantime she had met someone who amazed her. Turner Caldwell had blossomed from a high school dweeb into this extraordinary person. Her head spun as she considered the transformation. And, yet, she wondered if the transformation was really that dramatic after all. True, he had grown taller, but perhaps he had always been this interesting and talented and kind in high school but no one had taken the time to notice. Perhaps Turner was simply a victim of being . . . a victim. Whatever the answer, she knew she and Justin had been led to the right person. She liked Turner Caldwell. But more than that she needed him.
CHAPTER 24
MORNING DAWNED ACCORDING to the clock but not in the manner to which Turner had become accustomed based on his brief experience at the cabin. Sunshine didn’t cheerily peer in around the edges of the curtains. Light didn’t skip across the surface of the lake like water nymphs dancing in celebration. Instead darkness clung determinedly to the mountain peaks and to the valley below.
Clouds had rolled in, hanging like thick layers of soiled cotton batting. The air was heavy and solemn, promising rain. But for the moment the clouds greedily retained the water vapor and continued to move in from the west, amassing in silent formation.
Cassandra had spent a restless night and was still in a great deal of pain. The aspirins weren’t cutting it. Turner decided to drive into Silverthorne and get something stronger. And because it was shaping up to be an inside day, he decided to look for a Redbox kiosk and pick up a couple of DVDs. Also, he’d call Loretta and Mary to make sure they were all right and to see how things were going.
Justin accompanied him out onto the front step and waved vigorously as Turner drove away. Turner watched him in the rearview mirror and wondered how many times Justin had done the same thing to his daddy as Brad left for work.
The cabin disappeared quickly in the overgrowth. It became easy to imagine that nothing existed past the point of Turner’s vision, that his time with Cassandra and Justin was only an illusion.
As he drove toward the main road, he considered how Cassandra’s accident might actually be a blessing in disguise. With her ankle now swollen to three times its normal size, and turning the color of a Concord grape, she was in no shape to walk, let alone continue her run from Brad. Perhaps now she’d agree to go to the police and file a report. Maybe this was the clinching argument to the rebuttal Turner had been seeking.
A strange feeling came over him as he reached the main road and headed south toward Silverthorne. Two people had unexpectedly become part of his life, and they were counting on him. But he was just a handyman and college student, single and unattached. What did he know about the roles of husband and father, abdicated by Brad?
He wondered if Brad had any idea what he was losing. Did he know what a great little kid his son was? Or how exquisite his wife was? Did he comprehend what he had lost by forcing the most important people in his life to flee?
His loss is my gain, Turner thought. But then he caught himself. Was the gain really his? In a few days, once the coast was clear and Cassandra could walk again, she would finish her business at the bank. Then she and Justin would disappear from his life for good. Something tugged at his heart, and he shook his head to clear his brain. No matter how it turned out in the end, Cassandra and Justin were part of his life for now. And that was what he needed to focus on.
No rain had fallen as yet, but the clouds continued to roll in, blotting out even a hint of sunshine. The air became cooler, and a soft rumble of thunder echoed through the mountain valley.
When he reached Silverthorne, he drove up Blue River Parkway, looking for a pharmacy. The first order of business was to get some medical supplies—an actual splint, an elastic bandage to secure it in place and provide compression, something stronger than aspirin for the pain, and a gel pack that would contour around her ankle and be more comfortable than the lumpy bag of ice cubes currently being used.
Moments later a police cruiser passed by and his heart rate doubled. Was there an APB out on Cassandra and him? He kept his eyes straight ahead, appearing casual and relaxed, although he felt anything but. The officer glanced in his direction and then looked away. Turner watched him intently in the rearview mirror. The officer didn’t wheel around and give chase, lights flashing, siren blaring. He merely continued to the end of the street and turned right.
Turner found a pharmacy across from an outlet mall on Blue River Parkway and pulled in. After checking to make certain the police officer hadn’t doubled back, Turner climbed out of the car and went in search of the pharmacist. He wanted to get an opinion on the best medical supplies to buy for Cassandra.
The pharmacist, a thin woman wearing the traditional white jacket, stepped from behind the counter and led him to the correct aisle. She showed him several options, expressing her opinion on each, which Turner readily accepted. His arms were soon loaded with enough medical supplies to start his own clinic. He thanked her for her assistance and proceeded to the front counter. Two people were in line ahead of him, so while he waited he scanned the headlines of the local newspaper sitting on the counter. Nothing screamed Child Kidnapped. And though he couldn’t see the inside pages, he doubted if there was anything about the three of them either. Obviously Brad hadn’t leaked anything to the press. Yet.
When it was his turn, he returned the clerk’s smile and paid for the items in cash. Then he headed to the exit, feeling comfortable enough to pause and hold the door open for an elderly woman with a cane.
Intending to call Loretta and Mary next, he came across a food mart near the edge of town and decided to do the grocery shopping first. He’d call on his cell phone later, if he could get service, or from a pay phone at a gas station if he couldn’t.
He made his way up and down the aisles, throwing items indiscriminately into the shopping cart. The good mood made him more frivolous in his selections. He picked several items just so he could see Justin’s eyes light up when he discovered the sugary treasures. Turner hoped Cassandra would be equally satisfied with the healthy choices of vegetables and fruits he added for her.
He ended up buying more than he intended, considering he didn’t know how much longer they were going to be at the cabin. But they would take the excess with them anyway, he decided.
With the shopping cart significantly filled, he went through the checkout counter, again paying in cash. He noticed that the money Loretta had given him was almost gone. He needed to find an ATM before leaving Silverthorne.
Pushing the cart out to the Buick, he put the grocery bags in the trunk and decided to call Loretta and Mary before he went in search of a Redbox and an ATM. He wondered what news the two women would have to tell him.
As much as he wanted the matter resolved, thoughts of having to reenter the real world created a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. A cold, empty feeling came over him as he thought about waking up one morning soon and finding Cassandra and Justin gone. In a few days his entire world, which had been turned upside down, would be righted again. Could he live with it restored to its former order?
The phone calls to Loretta and Mary could change everything.
We’ve found a counseling clinic where Cassandra and Justin can stay while things are being worked out. Take them there ASAP.
Turner would become a solitary man again.
They’re going to go into something like a witness protection program.
Life for him would re
turn to normal.
They’ll have new names, new identities, and be moved to a distant city.
His heart would become an empty chamber once more.
There won’t be any contact number. You’ll never see them again.
A sense of loss overcame him, and he almost decided not to call. At least not today. He needed more time to adjust to the winds of change that were about to sweep everything away. He could make up an excuse by telling the truth about Cassandra’s injury and how she wasn’t able to travel. Then the three of them could snuggle indoors and let the rain descend, watching DVDs and remaining cozy and warm while nature cleansed herself.
But that would only be delaying the inevitable. They were going to have to return to the real world sooner or later. It wasn’t fair to keep Cassandra and Justin in limbo just so he could enjoy their company for another day or two.
He flipped his cell phone open and punched in Loretta’s number. He couldn’t get cell reception, however, and he experienced a degree of relief. But it was fleeting because he couldn’t delay making the call. He’d have to find a pay phone.
As he drove down Blue River Parkway and approached a gas station, checking for a pay phone, he spotted a black Mercedes. Quickly, he skidded to a stop and pulled off to the side of the road.
Blinking rapidly, he stared at the stocky man standing beside the Mercedes at the gas pump, talking to the attendant who was fueling the car. A second man sat in the car, in the passenger seat. The stocky man was turned away so Turner couldn’t see his face, but he recognized him nonetheless.
It was Slick.
The attendant was pointing north, in the direction of the cabin. Turner could see the attendant sweep his arm to the left, as though describing the turn-off. He motioned left again. Turner could understand the directions as clearly as if he was standing beside them, listening in.
Slick slipped the attendant some cash and went to the outside pay phone.
Turner didn’t linger to mentally eavesdrop. Being careful not to squeal the tires, he backed up a short distance so a stand of trees blocked him from Slick’s view. Cranking the wheel, he turned the car around and drove to the next street and turned north. It was vital that Slick not see him because he would recognize the Buick. One glimpse of it and Slick would appear in Turner’s rearview mirror in seconds, following in his wake.
The Return of Cassandra Todd Page 14