Silver Thaw

by Catherine Anderson

  Jeb nodded, and Amanda adjourned to the other room. After closing the door, she took a deep breath and dialed her mother. Would she answer this time?

  “Hello, Lang residence.”

  “Mom, it’s me.”

  Emma gasped. “Oh, thank God. Finally. Are you all right? Is Chloe okay? My caller ID says Onrietta Parker. Talk to me, Mandy. Where has Mark taken you? Tell me all is well.”

  “I left him, Mom. We’re finally safe.”

  The rest of the story poured from Amanda, not necessarily in chronological order. Emma didn’t ask questions. She only listened, interjecting here or there.

  When Amanda ran out of words, she realized her face was swollen and wet from crying. “I’m so sorry for all the times I lied and said things were fine.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Dad and I knew something wasn’t right. All that matters now, sweetness, is that you’re safe.” She sighed. “So tell me about this Jeb fellow.”

  Amanda smiled through her tears. “He’s wonderful.” She told Emma how Jeb had stepped forward with the money to hire a great divorce attorney. “The best thing about him is that he expects nothing in return. I’d like to pay him back someday, but he doesn’t want me to worry if I’m unable to.”

  “I can’t wait to meet him. But I’m especially eager to see you and my granddaughter again. Chloe won’t remember me.” Emma’s voice rang with sadness. “That’ll break my heart.”

  “I can’t travel to see you until Mark is behind bars. It isn’t safe.”

  Emma agreed. “And with this bad hip, I don’t think I can make the drive from Olympia down to see you. If I could afford it, I’d fly, but I’m stretched just to make it from payday to payday with a little extra. Your father left me some money for a rainy day, but toward the end, his illness ate most of it.”

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there. I didn’t get your letter saying that he’d passed on until New Year’s Eve, not that Mark would have let me attend the funeral, anyway.”

  “No more regrets,” Emma said. “The past is behind us. Let’s move forward.”

  After the call ended, Amanda sat in the office until she collected her composure. She found Jeb in the kitchen and gave him a recap of the conversation. He listened, nodding occasionally.

  “I wish I could see her,” Amanda told him. “Her hip is really hurting her now, though. She can’t make the drive. We both agree that a visit will have to wait.” She felt drained from the long talk with her mother. “Would you mind terribly if I don’t finish my brandy and just go to bed?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “I hope you have sweet dreams.”

  Minutes later, Amanda slipped into bed beside her daughter and felt something crinkly under her pillow. She curled her fingers over the paper, recognizing the shape even in the darkness. One of my notes. What’s it doing under my pillow?

  Easing from under the covers, she crossed the room and crouched by the night-light to read the message. On one side, she saw her own writing. On the back was Jeb’s masculine print. As she took in what he’d written, she smiled. “You’re not quite ready yet,” he’d told her downstairs, and now she understood how he’d known that.

  She experienced a brief stab of embarrassment because he’d clearly been finding some of her recent messages wherever they’d landed outside. She’d poured her heart out in those missives, expressing her most secret thoughts and feelings. Don’t stop writing the notes. I like finding them again. She smiled, appreciating that he’d left his reply under her pillow where she wouldn’t miss it. Maybe she should follow his example. That way, only Jeb would read what she wrote.

  She reached into the top dresser drawer for a pen and slip of paper, went to another bedroom for light, and wrote, Thank you for being so patient and understanding. I want to feel ready. I really do. But something keeps holding me back.

  She crept downstairs and left the note in front of the coffee machine, the first place Jeb went when he woke up.

  * * *

  In the morning, Amanda grabbed her cell phone, which she’d charged on the nightstand, and hurried downstairs. Sitting at the kitchen table, Jeb saluted her with a mug and greeted her. Murmuring a reply, she placed her phone on the peninsula bar and moved to the coffee machine. Her note had been turned over, and Jeb had written on the back of it.

  We aren’t on a time schedule, Mandy. When we make love, I want you to have no reservations. Only then will it be perfect between us. I’m willing—no, determined—to wait for perfect.

  Taking advantage of Amanda’s distraction as she read his message, Jeb rose from the chair, grabbed her cell, and sent her mother’s contact information to his iPhone.

  She turned from the coffee center to beam a smile at him. “Maybe we should start saving these,” she said, clutching the pink paper over her heart. “We’re probably the first couple ever to fall in love by writing notes. Years from now, we can read them and remember every twist and turn of our relationship.”

  Jeb was glad to hear her say they had a relationship. “That’s a great idea. For now, let’s put them in the cookie jar. Around here, no cookie has a long enough life span to sit in a container anyway.”

  She laughed and did as he suggested.

  That evening while Amanda was upstairs bathing Chloe and coaxing her to bed, Jeb slipped into his office, closed the door, and called Emma Lang.

  “Hello.” Uncertainty laced her voice. “Mandy?”

  Jeb liked hearing someone else use Amanda’s nickname. “No, this is Jeb Sterling, the man Mandy and Chloe are staying with. This may sound odd, but your daughter has no idea I’m calling you.”

  After a short get-acquainted session, Jeb got to the point. “I think you should fly down to spend Christmas with us here at my place, Emma.”

  “Oh, I can’t afford—”

  Jeb cut her off. “It’ll be my Christmas present to Mandy. She really needs to see you. Of all the things I might get for her, I think she’ll enjoy a visit with you the most.”

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  “Not a bit. I’m in love with your daughter. Making her happy makes me happy.”

  Emma finally agreed to let Jeb purchase plane tickets to Redmond, just north of Bend. “I want it to be a surprise,” Jeb stressed, “so Mandy won’t know who we’re picking up at the airport on Christmas Eve day. I’ll say a friend is flying in.”

  Emma chuckled. “If she calls again, I won’t tell her I’m coming. I love surprises, especially for someone I love.”

  Jeb was glad to have leaped that hurdle. “Mandy doubts that Chloe has any memory of you,” he said. “I think Christmas will be much more enjoyable if your granddaughter can see you and talk with you several times before the holiday. So she’ll know you by the twenty-fifth.”

  A long silence followed. Finally Emma said, “How on earth can we manage that?”

  Jeb told her about placing video calls on a computer using Skype. Emma retorted that she had no computer and wouldn’t know how to operate one if she did.

  “I can have an inexpensive laptop sent to you by two-day mail, and when you get it, I can walk you through setting up Skype over the phone. Video calls are fabulous, Emma. Chloe will be able to see and hear you, and the same in reverse, almost as good as being in the same room together.”

  “Oh.” There was a world of yearning in that word. “But I can’t allow you to pay for my flight and buy me a laptop! I can afford to get Internet, but not a computer.”

  He grinned. Now he knew where Amanda got her stubborn pride. Luckily he’d become an expert at waltzing around it. By the time he ended the call, Emma had agreed to get Internet service and would eagerly await the arrival of the laptop.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Over the next two days, Chloe’s Christmas wish list grew. Jeb figured that Amanda now had the money to handle those expenditures, and he hel
ped her navigate the Net to order most of the gifts online, using his credit card and reimbursing him for the charges. They also went shopping in Mystic Creek. In addition to hiring three deputies to guard them, Jeb took Bozo along. Because of Bozo’s overproduction of drool, Jeb left the dog just inside the doors and commanded him to stay. That way no merchandise would be inadvertently damaged, but the mastiff would still be right there if Mark showed up. None of the shop owners complained about the huge animal’s presence. They’d all heard one version or another of Amanda’s marriage, and knew that both woman and child were in possible danger.

  The dollhouse kit Jeb had ordered arrived by express delivery. He chose one of the unused upstairs bedrooms as his work area, which allowed him to lock the door but still be within earshot if Amanda or Chloe needed him. When Chloe was awake, she couldn’t burst in and see her surprise in various stages of construction. After the child went to bed, Amanda came in to help, but her time was limited.

  “Oh, Jeb, I’ve never seen anything so adorable.”

  Jeb enjoyed every second of the imaginary reality he was creating for the girl. His mind swam with ideas as he glued shingles to the roof. “It’s going to be awesome!”

  On the third day after talking with Emma, Jeb called the woman again from the privacy of his office. The laptop had arrived, and Emma sounded panicky. Apparently she thought the computer might go haywire when she touched it. He calmed her down and guided her step by step to set up her wireless connection and then load Skype onto the machine. When they finally made screen-to-screen contact, Emma squealed in amazement.

  “Omigosh, I can see you!” she cried.

  Jeb chuckled. “Isn’t it great?” He held up a staying hand. “Sit tight. Okay? Don’t touch any buttons. I’m going to fetch your daughter and granddaughter.”

  * * *

  Amanda had no idea why Jeb wanted her and Chloe in his office. When he pressed her into his castor chair and she saw her mother on the monitor, she started to cry. Then Emma sobbed. Jeb picked up Chloe.

  “It’s okay, honey. That lady is your grandmother, and it has been a long time since your mommy has seen her. So they’re crying happy tears.”

  Chloe studied her mother and the face on the screen. “They don’t look happy,” she pronounced, but even as she spoke, she squirmed to get down. Approaching shyly, she gave a start when she saw herself in a square at the bottom corner of the screen. “Hi,” she said. “My name’s Chloe.”

  Emma burst into tears all over again. “Oh, Mandy, she’s so beautiful, the very picture of you at that age!”

  Jeb rested his hip against an office counter, folded his arms, and enjoyed watching the conversation. Chloe overcame her shyness, and the next thing he knew, she was showing off her fluffy kitten, Frosty.

  “Mr. Jeb, can you help me show Bozo to Grammy?”

  Jeb turned the camera atop his monitor toward the dog, who was already snoozing on the office floor, his jowls splayed, gleaming wetness around his nose.

  Chloe did the honors. “Grammy, this is my best friend, Bozo. He is my protector.”

  “My goodness, he’s very big,” Emma observed.

  “Yes. He’s a mastiff. Mr. Jeb says he weighs two hundred and thirty pounds! When my mean daddy broke into Mr. Jeb’s house, Bozo was our SWAT team.”

  Emma laughed. Jeb, who hadn’t heard that version of the story, grinned. He suspected that Chloe had seen a SWAT team on television or her mother had used the expression. When the camera was refocused on Amanda, Jeb caught Chloe’s hand and slipped out of the room with her, saying, “Let’s give your mommy some alone time with Grammy. Then you can come back to talk.”

  Chloe nodded. “May I have hot chocolate with mini marshmallows while I wait?”

  That was a request Jeb could deliver on.

  * * *

  For Amanda, it was a fabulous conversation. She’d never felt free to talk honestly with her parents about Mark, but now that her dad was gone, she no longer feared a confrontation between them. She could at last look into her mom’s eyes and tell her everything.

  “I once saw bruises on your arm and suspected that Mark had put them there,” Emma confessed. “I wanted so badly to tell Dad, but like you, I feared he would fly into a rage, go after Mark, and get either seriously hurt or arrested. So I kept it to myself, a decision I’ve regretted ever since. Shortly thereafter, Mark spirited you two away to California. I had many sleepless nights, worrying about where you were and what he might be doing to you. I received only one letter from you in Eureka, and you made it sound as if everything was fine, but I knew it wasn’t. You gave me no phone number, only your address. I tried to find Mark’s number through information, but I couldn’t.”

  “Mark allowed me no access to a phone. He had a cell, but he always carried it on him. I tried to sneak enough quarters from his pocket to call you collect from a pay phone, but he caught me. I did manage to steal enough to buy a stamp and write you that one letter.”

  “Oh, sweetness, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  Amanda felt they’d both endured too much sorrow because of Mark. “The good news is, Mark will never hurt me or Chloe again. Jeb is a big man. His dog is a huge old love—unless someone threatens a member of his family. He’s very like Jeb in that way.” Amanda chose not to tell her mom that Mark had been carrying a gun when he broke into the house. “Now Jeb has installed a security system with camera surveillance. His network is protected with firewalls and strong passwords. Chloe and I are safe.”

  Emma sighed and briefly closed her eyes. Then she grinned. “You forgot to tell me how handsome Jeb is! If I were thirty years younger, he’d give me heart palpitations.”

  Amanda’s throat went tight. “I’m in love with him. And he says he loves me. But it seems so fast. Do you think I’m nuts for thinking about going to bed with him?”

  Emma laughed, a long, from-the-gut peal of mirth. When she quieted, she said, “I gave you bad advice when you got pregnant by Mark. I don’t want to make the same mistake again. But I have gotten to know Jeb. I think he’s a wonderful guy.”

  “How have you gotten to know him?”

  Emma confessed, “We’ve been chatting on the phone. He loves you, sweetie. I hear it in his voice.”

  Amanda had heard it in Jeb’s voice as well—and seen it in his eyes.

  * * *

  With Christmas fast approaching, Jeb spent more and more time upstairs to finish Chloe’s dollhouse. The little girl was accustomed to him working in his office, so she didn’t seem suspicious when he vanished into another room. He’d found a miniature wiring kit and light fixtures online, along with other accessories. He used safe acrylic paints inside and out. Victorian in style with intricate trim, the house was mounted on a square of plywood and begged for a gingerbread-brown exterior with pink accents.

  One afternoon, Kate and Jeremiah came to visit. As Jeb disarmed the security system, Chloe raced into the entry hall to greet them. Trailing after the child, Jeb unsnapped the holster strap of his Glock. Though he doubted Mark was anywhere near his property, he’d never be caught off guard again. “You can let them in now, sweetheart.”

  Excited, Chloe drew open the door. “Hi, Mimi and Pow-Pow!”

  While Jeb’s parents hugged the little girl, he reset the system on the entryway panel before accepting embraces himself.

  Thrusting a paper sack into her son’s hands, Kate whispered, “Yardage remnants for the you-know-what. Don’t let Chloe see them.”

  Jeb took his mother’s coat, and as he hung it in the guest closet, he tucked the bag behind his extra boots. Kate had already gone to the kitchen with Chloe when Jeb turned to take his father’s jacket. “Pow-Pow? Where the heck did that come from?”

  Jeremiah pulled off his stocking cap and smoothed his hair. “I think it started that first day when you called and told me to get out my guns. I hadn’t fired
any of them in a long while, so I needed to make sure the sights were still aligned. After your brothers got there, I went out behind the barn to shoot a few targets.” He shrugged. “The sound of my rifle must have reached the house.”

  “Ah.” Jeb chuckled. “So now you’re Pow-Pow. It beats being called Bang-Bang.”

  “True.”

  * * *

  That night, after Chloe fell asleep, Jeb and Amanda took the sack upstairs to look at the scraps of cloth Kate had brought.

  “Oh, Jeb!” Amanda cried, keeping her voice low so as not to awaken Chloe. “This tiny rose pattern will make perfect wallpaper in a bedroom!”

  From that point forward, Jeb had a partner with an eye for decorating who couldn’t wait to get Chloe off to bed so she could help with the dollhouse. While Jeb added finishing touches to the interior, Amanda wielded needle and thread to make tiny bed linens, coverlets, bath towels, tablecloths, and throw pillows. Whispering and giggling like kids, they let their imaginations run wild.

  One evening, Amanda circled the miniature house, studying it from every angle. “It’s absolutely beautiful.” She trailed her fingertips over the faux grass in the front yard and then leaned closer to examine the stepping-stones that led to the veranda, which sported a swing and two tiny rocking chairs. “How on earth did you make stepping-stones?”

  “I used plaster of Paris and bottle caps as molds. Once the rounds were set, I popped them out of the caps, sponged on mottled gray paint, and glued them down.”

  “Very clever!”

  She came to stand beside him and peered into the rooms. Her soft breast grazed his shoulder. It took all Jeb’s control not to carry her to the bed and make love to her. All that held him back was his promise to wait. Amanda had lived through a nightmare most women couldn’t begin to imagine, and Jeb didn’t want to push her. When she was ready, she would give him the signal or tell him in a message. Until then, he’d keep his word—even if it killed him.