by C. C. Coburn
“Which I do now.”
“You mean it?”
“Yep. Go make yourself comfortable in the kitchen. I’ll run upstairs and get the baby oil.” She turned to go and then looked back at Luke. “Unless, of course, you don’t mind if I use olive oil?”
Luke grinned. “And walk around smelling like a salad? No, thanks!”
TWO MINUTES LATER, LUKE was stripping off his shirt. Carly had him straddling the chair, so she could get access to his back easily. Charlie was curled up asleep on a beanbag under Sarah’s watchful eye as she started dinner preparations. Molly had her nose resting on Luke’s foot.
At his first sigh of relief, Sarah smiled over at her and said, “I have a feeling, Carly, that the O’Malley clan is going to bless the day you came into our lives.”
ADAM PULLED OVER WHEN he got to the crossroads. Even now, after all these years, being here made him break out in a cold sweat. His hands shook as he let go of the wheel.
The area had changed very little, situated as it was outside the town limits. The road was still dirt beneath the snow.
He climbed out of his vehicle and froze as his gaze landed on a small memorial. The flowers were fresh. Someone had been here recently.
Adam turned and kicked the tire of his SUV. Someone a lot better than him had the guts to come here and lay flowers in memory of Rory, maybe say a prayer for him. And what had he done? Nothing. Nothing but stay away, far away, for the past fifteen years. Someone else hadn’t forgotten who’d died here and how. But that someone didn’t know the truth. Adam did. And it was eating him alive.
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID that for a massage to be effective, the client needs total quiet and no distractions,” Luke griped. “So far I’ve had Mom nattering about what she’s planning for dinner, Becky calling, Beth calling, Charlie waking up and needing his diaper changed, Daisy tearing inside to use the bathroom, Celeste wanting her hair braided and Sash and Cody fighting over what TV program they’d be watching tonight. How come Adam gets a massage in the privacy of his room and I get Grand Central Station?”
Carly slapped his shoulder playfully. She liked Luke. He had a gruff exterior, but deep down he was a big marshmallow and she liked teasing him. “Because Megan’s resting and when we first came in here it was peaceful!”
“Someone mention me?”
Megan stood sleepily in the doorway and smiled at her husband. He reached out his hand to draw her to him. “I’d get up, honey, but Ms. Bossy Pants has me pinned to the chair. Ooh.” He sighed as Carly drove her fingers back through his scalp.
“Honestly, it’s been like an X-rated movie soundtrack in here,” Sarah said. “That son of mine—who rarely expresses any emotion—has been moaning and groaning and sighing with pleasure for the past twenty minutes.”
Megan perched awkwardly on Luke’s right thigh and slipped her arms around his neck. “You must teach me some of those techniques, Carly. Seems my husband is putty in your hands.”
Carly smiled. “I’d be glad to, then you can take over the orneriest client this side of the Rockies.”
“Hey! That’s me you’re talking about,” Luke protested good-naturedly.
“Sure is,” Carly said, finishing off the massage on his shoulders. She placed her hands over Megan’s, moving them in the same deep strokes she’d used on Luke.
Luke sighed again. “I’m glad the kids aren’t here right now. This is feeling way too good.”
His mother waved a wooden spoon at him. “Behave!”
“And if I don’t?”
“Used to be a time I could threaten you to behave so easily.” She shrugged her shoulders theatrically and said to Carly, “Kids, they grow up, they leave home, they lose all respect.”
“Except I didn’t leave home,” Luke reminded her.
“More’s the pity,” his mother retorted with an indulgent smile.
Carly loved watching the exchange between mother and son and wondered if there’d be a time when her sons would tease her like this. She hoped so.
“You’re looking wistful, Carly,” Sarah said.
Carly smiled. “I was thinking how lovely it is to feel like part of your family.”
“That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.” Sarah wiped at her suddenly damp eyes with the back of her hand.
Carly was so touched, she went to hug Sarah, then realized she still had baby oil all over her hands.
“The next massage is for you, okay?” she said to Sarah.
Sarah nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“And I thank you, too, Carly,” said Luke, rising from the chair and taking Megan with him. “I’ll check on the horses and round up the kids for dinner.” Megan handed him a jacket; he kissed her cheek and stepped outside.
Molly lumbered slowly to her feet, following him through a doggie-door cut into the timber door that led into the backyard.
Carly stared at it. “Was that here this morning? Because I didn’t notice it.”
“Luke and his father made it earlier,” Sarah explained.
“At Daisy’s insistence,” Megan said. “She blackmailed them into it by reminding them that otherwise they’d have to get up in the night to let Molly out.”
Carly grinned. “That Daisy is one smart little girl.”
“She sure is,” Sarah agreed. “Daisy knows exactly which of her father’s buttons to push to get what she wants.”
“So does Sash,” Megan said. “And Celeste is so cute, who could say no to her?”
“What about Cody?” Carly asked.
Megan considered for a moment. “Like his father, Cody’s a man of few words. And few demands. Their relationship was a little rocky at first, but Luke treated Cody with respect, got him involved with the ranch, taught him to ride. Now they’re so much in tune with each other, it’s almost scary.”
Carly turned to Sarah. “All your sons are so different. Was that apparent when they were growing up?”
“You don’t think each of your children is different from the others?” Sarah asked.
“To tell you the truth, I’ve been so focused on keeping a roof over their heads, food on the table and clothes on their backs, I’ve had very little time to observe them closely enough. I feel bad about that.”
She thought about her children. “Alex is the responsible one, Jake is a bit of a jokester, Maddy…well, she’s very much like Celeste, sweet-natured, not hard to please. And Charlie…he’s my easygoing baby.”
“Their personalities will become more pronounced as they grow older. Just wait until they enter their teens!”
Megan nodded. “You won’t know what’s hit you then.”
Carly put her hands over her ears. “Please, don’t remind me! Alex will be a teen in a couple of years and I’m already scared!”
“Don’t be,” Sarah told her. “After they got over the adolescent hormone surge, all of mine, except maybe for Adam, turned into the kind of men they were as boys.”
“Why not Adam?” Carly couldn’t help asking.
Sarah poured glasses of iced tea—and juice for Megan—putting them on the table, then took a seat opposite Carly. “Adam was always a bit rebellious, much worse than Will as a youngster. Then, when he was fifteen, his best friend died in a car accident. Adam was the passenger, and he survived.”
“That’s tragic,” Carly said as a thought occurred to her. Could memories of the accident have been what set Adam off earlier?
“I didn’t know about this,” Megan was saying.
“It’s not something we ever talk about. Adam spiraled into a very deep depression. He flunked that year, and then when he finished high school, he couldn’t wait to go to college, move away from the area.”
Now Carly was starting to underst
and some of Adam’s behavior this afternoon. Did he feel guilty that he’d survived and his friend didn’t? Was he experiencing survivor guilt?
Until Adam dealt with it, he’d never be free of the demons that so obviously tormented him.
“That’s why we built the apartment over the stables,” Sarah told them. “We wanted Adam to return home. To give him his own space. But he wouldn’t come. When they had a short-term vacancy at the local fire department, I had to practically blackmail him to take it.”
And now, because he’d ignored his chief’s orders and gone back into the building to rescue Molly, his job was in jeopardy. Possibly his career. Carly pondered the reality of that. Had Adam chosen a career that would require him to risk his life? To somehow make amends for his surviving while his friend hadn’t? To save others, because he couldn’t save his friend?
Carly put aside her thoughts as the kitchen filled with children, all rushing inside to wash up for dinner. They brought with them the crispness of the winter afternoon; it radiated from their bodies and had turned their cheeks red. Molly followed a few minutes later, her black nose pushing its way through the doggie-door. She eased her body slowly through the opening and waddled to her blanket. She looked so terribly sad that Carly sat on the floor beside her and massaged Molly’s long spine. “Are you missing your mom and dad, sweetie?” she asked.
It was hard to tell, since Molly always looked melancholy, even when she was wagging her tail. She licked Carly’s hand.
“Any news on the Polinskis?” Sarah asked.
“I called them earlier. Mrs. P. is doing fine, but as you know, Mr. P. suffered severe smoke inhalation. They’re both concerned about Molly. I wish I could take her to visit them in the hospital. They’re so worried about her future, even though I’ve tried to reassure them she’ll always have a home with me.”
“I think you’ve got more than enough dependents,” Sarah pointed out.
Carly sighed. “I know. But what else could I say?”
CELESTE AND MADDY WERE the first ones back in the kitchen and, without being asked, started setting the table. Sasha and Cody still hadn’t settled their argument over which television program they would watch after dinner. Since there was only one TV set in the house, this was apparently an ongoing debate. Carly wondered if she should offer to let one of them watch their program at the apartment, but Sarah must’ve guessed her intent and shook her head in warning.
“Neither of you will be watching anything tonight. Your father and Uncle Adam have reserved spaces on the sofa to watch the hockey game together,” Sarah told them.
This news was greeted by pouting from Sasha and a grunt from Cody. The other children didn’t seem to care. Carly soon found out why. Maddy had invited Daisy and Celeste to watch a Disney DVD in the apartment.
“But I’m the oldest!” Sasha protested. “I should get to choose what we watch.”
“No, you’re not. I am,” Cody reminded her.
“And you’re both acting like two-year-olds,” Megan said. “If you don’t stop pouting, Sash, and you don’t stop stomping around, Cody, you can both go to bed without dinner or television!”
“That’s tellin’ ’em,” Daisy said with a nod.
“Why can’t we have another TV?” Sasha demanded of her father as he came in the door.
“Because there’s enough noise in this house already,” he said, and touched the end of her upturned nose.
“We’d be quieter if we each had a TV of our own.”
“Don’t even go there, Sash. You know how your mother and I feel about family time.”
Sasha put her hands on her hips. “You mean the family time you’ll be using to watch the game?”
“Uh-huh,” Luke agreed.
Sasha stamped her foot.
“Before you say anything else, Sash, let me remind you that the penalty box applies to stomping feet as well as cussing.”
“Oh, you!” Sasha said, and dashed off. They could hear her yelling from the stairs, “Just you wait! I’m gonna get a job at the burger joint and save up and buy myself the biggest TV I can afford. Then I’m gonna turn it up so loud, you won’t be able to hear yourself think!”
Luke went to the fridge to get a beer. “So how was the rest of everyone’s day?” he asked, completely ignoring Sasha’s threat and refusing to react to it.
With Sasha’s departure, the room was considerably quieter. Celeste and Maddy, having finished setting the table, went to play with their dolls. Daisy produced a deck of cards and sat with Alex and Jake. She proceeded to deal the cards for Texas Hold’em, a game she’d been teaching them. Carly washed her hands after massaging Molly, then set up Charlie’s high chair and warmed his supper in the microwave.
As she fed her son, surrounded by family noises in the kitchen, Carly felt a deep contentment. Even Sasha’s tantrum hadn’t disrupted the family routine of preparing for a meal. Her own children rarely threw tantrums and she put Sasha’s down to a combination of teenage hormones and her rather dynamic personality. She’d admired Luke’s handling of it and filed it away for future use.
ADAM DIDN’T RETURN for dinner or to watch the game. Carly gathered her children together and herded them back to the apartment. Long after they’d turned in, Carly lay in bed staring at the ceiling and hoping Adam was okay, until she finally heard his SUV pull into the yard.
Relieved that he was finally home and safe and that he’d soon read her note, she slept.
Chapter Eight
The house was in darkness when Adam got home. The only sign of life was Molly struggling to her feet to join him in the kitchen. She looked at him balefully, then waddled to the back door.
She pushed her way through the doggie-door Adam was sure hadn’t been there this morning.
He stepped out on the back porch to keep her company.
Minutes later she waddled back, looked at him sadly and went in through her little door. Adam stayed outside for a bit, looking at the night sky and thinking about Carly. Finally he returned inside.
He regretted missing dinner. His stomach growled as if to remind him.
He’d gone to Rusty’s and downed a couple of beers before remembering he had the disciplinary hearing in the morning. So he’d sat there brooding, and nursed a beer for the rest of the night without ordering any food to go with it.
Now he was sober and hungry. He searched in the fridge, but didn’t have to go far. His mom had left a dinner plate covered in cling wrap and his name printed neatly on a Post-it note.
Too hungry to bother reheating it, he wolfed it down cold. Molly watched Adam as he ate. Finally, with an enormous sigh, she rested her head on her paws and closed her eyes.
After stooping to pet her, he rinsed the empty plate and put it in the dishwasher. Adam was more than glad that he’d rescued Molly. If he had to do it over, he’d do exactly the same thing. Probably not what the disciplinary board wanted to hear, but it was the truth.
Matt had told him he’d located the Polinskis’ son and daughter-in-law in Florida and the old couple would be going back there to live. As he climbed the stairs to his room, Adam was surprised by how empty he felt at the thought of Molly not being in the kitchen one morning soon.
He entered his room and, without turning on the light, stripped off, wrapped a towel around himself and headed for the shower.
Back in his room, he pulled on fresh boxers and slipped beneath the covers, looking forward to the blessed oblivion of sleep.
But something scratched the side of his face. He reached up and found a piece of paper. He was about to throw it on the floor when he suddenly needed to know what it was.
He switched on the bedside lamp and glanced at it. Adam was scrawled in a neat hand on the folded sheet of paper.
He had a feeling he knew e
xactly who it was from. Tempted again to dispose of it, he also knew he wouldn’t get any sleep without reading the contents.
He opened it.
Adam, I’m sorry if I upset or offended you. Please know that wasn’t my intention. If you need to talk, I’m a good listener.
C.
Adam stared at the note. Carly didn’t have to apologize; she hadn’t offended him. And yeah, she probably was a good listener, but there was no way he was going to talk to her about what had upset him. He wasn’t going to talk to anyone about that. Ever.
He’d thought that by going out to the intersection today, he’d be able to lay some of his demons to rest. But it had only served to bring back all the old memories, all the good times he and Rory had shared. Closely followed by the knowledge of how badly he’d betrayed his friend.
He needed to make amends, but how? He’d believed that by devoting himself to public service, putting his life on the line for others, would make a difference. Honor Rory’s memory somehow. Rory was the one who’d always wanted to be the firefighter, not Adam.
But it hadn’t made any difference. He still felt hollow. Still felt the guilt right down to his bones.
He brought the note Carly had written to his nose and sniffed it, hoping it smelled of her. But all he got was a noseful of the scent of baby oil. She sure was one hell of a masseuse. Those hands of hers should be registered as dangerous weapons, considering how easily she’d got him into a state of relaxation. And then to a state of blubbering like a baby. How had she done that?
He’d been about to pull her onto his lap, explore where the chemistry between them was going, when Luke had interrupted. By the time he’d returned to the sensuous zone he’d been in before the interruption, Carly had touched something in his shoulders, and his body had given an enormous shudder. Within moments, he was reliving the night Rory had died. Reliving the terrible dreams that had plagued him too often since. And tonight would probably be no exception.