He smiled again. She liked the way the creases in his cheeks deepened to slashes when his mouth curved up at the corners. “My grandfather maintained that it’s better to be silent than to talk a lot and say nothing. The coffee is great. That’s what I came in for. I’m not used to talking much. You’ve met my mom. Since the onset of her illness, conversation hasn’t been one of her strong suits.”
Chloe could well imagine how lonely his life must be, living alone on the ridge with only a woman with Alzheimer’s for company. “It must be difficult for you.”
“Not so bad, really. I’m used to being alone.”
She had a feeling that he’d been alone far too much. “So . . . when you’re not doctoring animals and doing this and that to earn a living, what do you do?”
“Lately my patient load has been such that I barely find time to sleep. All those animals were shot. Someone’s been using them for target practice.”
“I saw your poster. I can’t believe someone’s wounding them on purpose.”
“Believe it.” His dark face went taut. “A .22-caliber rifle is large enough to kill most animals, even a deer if the slug is carefully placed. Whoever’s doing it aims at nonvital areas. He’s deliberately maiming, not trying to kill.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“Some people are just sick.” He ran his fingertip around the edge of his cup. “While we’re on the subject, I couldn’t help but notice that no cops knocked at my door this afternoon. I take that to mean you didn’t report me. I’d like to thank you for that. I’m not sure why you chose to keep quiet, but I appreciate it.”
“The letter of the law is pretty inflexible. I can’t see how your helping wounded animals is a bad thing.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Then she smiled. “There was also a certain little boy who never would have forgiven me for ratting.”
He gave a startled laugh. “I owe him.”
In that moment, Chloe thought she’d never met a more attractive man. It wasn’t merely that he was handsome, but also that he didn’t seem aware of it. She found that refreshing—and appealing in a way that set her nerves on edge.
“What?” he asked.
Chloe realized she was staring. Heat pooled in her cheeks. “I spaced out for a moment. I guess I’m more exhausted than I realized.”
Finished with his coffee, he glanced at his watch, and said, “I’d better be shoving off. My mom was asleep when I left, but she often wakes up about this time and wants some hot cocoa. She likes it made the old-fashioned way, and Alzheimer’s and gas burners don’t mix. She forgets and lays stuff on the range—like kitchen towels.”
“Oh, dear. Has she started any fires?”
“I watch her like a hawk. But we’ve had a couple of close calls.”
“She’s a lucky lady,” Chloe said, meaning it sincerely. “A lot of sons would put her in a retirement home. It seems to be the way of things nowadays. Kids are too busy with their own lives to have time for parents.”
“I’m not very modern-minded.” He inclined his head at the mug. “It was great coffee, Chloe. Thanks for having me in.”
“It was the least I could do. I only wish I were in a position to pay you.”
“Don’t be silly.” He rose from the chair. “It’s not about money.”
Chloe laughed. “Where I come from, it’s practically always about money.”
He conceded the point with a nod. “Seeing that smile on your son’s face was all the payment I needed.”
Chloe stood to see him to the door. He paused at the threshold, his incredibly blue gaze trailing slowly over her face. “On the other hand, I can think of worse things than having a very pretty lady feeling indebted to me.”
For what seemed an endlessly long moment, Chloe thought he might kiss her, and she wondered how it would feel. Her stomach knotted with nerves, and her skin went clammy. She needed to step away, wanted to step away, but she couldn’t seem to make her feet move.
Instead of kissing her, he reached up to touch the outside tip of her right eyebrow where a pink hairline scar angled toward the corner of her eye.
Startled, she reached up to grab his hand. The instant she touched him, she regretted the move. His fingers were hard and warm, and they curled to encompass hers; the contact of flesh against flesh was jolting. Bracing his arm against her, he proceeded to trace the scar with the back of his knuckle.
“What happened here?”
“I fell.” The memories slid like acid through her mind. “It, um, happened about a year ago.”
His jaw muscle started to tic. “Clumsy, are you?”
“Occasionally.”
“Your son is a very lucky little boy.”
He said nothing more, but it made Chloe feel as if she were standing naked on the courthouse steps. He saw too much. Guessed too much.
She released his hand and stepped around him to open the door. Chill night air rushed in. She welcomed the shock of it—needed it to clear her head.
“Good night, Ben.”
He stepped out. The porch creaked under his weight, the sound eerie in the still darkness. “Good night,” he said as he moved down the steps.
Chloe leaned her shoulder against the door frame to stare after him. He seemed to be surrounded by a faint aura of blue light. She blinked and narrowed her eyes. Forty hours without sleep was too long. Now she was starting to see things.
As though he sensed her watching him, he turned to walk backwards several steps, his big, rangy body a study of masculine grace. Even in the dimness, his eyes shone like chips of blue crystal. The night wind caught his long hair, whipping the strands across his dark face.
“Sweet dreams,” he called.
And then he was swallowed up by the blackness. She stood there, staring at the moon-washed patch of lawn where he had been standing. The overgrown blades of grass shimmered in the silvery light, giving off a glow similar to the one that had seemed to surround him.
Chloe sighed and closed the door. Her sleep-deprived brain had reached overload stage. When she started seeing blue force fields around a perfectly normal flesh-and-blood man, it was time to call it a night and go to bed.
A few minutes later, Ben parked his truck next to his house. For a moment, he just sat there, staring at nothing and listening to the cooling engine ping. He couldn’t say why he’d driven down to Whispering Pines to report on Rowdy’s condition in person. Even worse, he hadn’t a clue why he’d invited himself in for coffee.
There was something about the lady that he found difficult to resist. Maybe it was the expression in Chloe’s lovely brown eyes, a mixture of wariness and distrust that made her seem vulnerable in a way that was completely at odds with her composed, self-assured behavior. Not that it mattered. If he saw her again, he’d be playing with fire. Had his experiences with Sherry taught him nothing?
Ben folded his arms over the steering wheel and rested his head on his wrists. He didn’t usually have a problem steering clear of women, so why was Chloe different? Ben didn’t know. He just didn’t know. But he’d be a damned fool if he went near her again.
Chapter Seven
Wearing an oversize Seahawks T-shirt and the pig slippers Jeremy had given her for Christmas, Chloe shuffled into the kitchen at eight o’clock the next morning, her destination the coffeepot. She turned on the water, yawned, and pushed the hair from her eyes as she opened the cupboard to grab the Folgers. Seven hours of shut-eye hadn’t been enough.
Her reason for living—and her reason for setting the alarm—burst into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom!” he called.
Even half-asleep, Chloe noted the healthy color in his cheeks and felt thankful. “Hi, sweetie.” She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Was she seeing things, or did her son have a shoestring tied around his head? “Jeremy?” She touched one of the dangling laces. “What is this?”
Jeremy beamed at her. “My headband.” He went up on his tiptoes to grab the box of toaster tarts from the bread box. “Mr. Longtree we
ars one.”
Ben also wore a medallion, beads, and long hair. Chloe measured out coffee. This, too, shall pass. If her son wore a shoelace around his head, what harm could it do? It was a simple case of hero worship. Next week, something new would catch his eye, and the shoestring would be knotted around the washing machine agitator.
Jeremy pulled out drawers to create stairs and climbed up to put his tarts in the toaster. The coffeemaker began its cycle. Chloe sank onto a chair. When she first woke up, she liked to stare at nothing. What she liked and got were usually two different things.
“What’re we gonna do today?” Jeremy asked.
Chloe studied his bright face. “What do you have in mind?”
The wall phone rang. Jeremy scampered over and grabbed the receiver. “Hello.” His grin broadened. “Hi, Mr. Longtree!” He listened for a moment. “Yup, I ’member. How’s he feeling this morning?” He turned toward Chloe. “She’s right here. Okay. Tell him I love him lots.”
Chloe’s stomach got nervous butterflies as she took the phone. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. I hope it’s not too early.”
“I was already up. How’s Rowdy?”
“Weak. Diarrhea’s gone. No vomiting. Both are good signs.”
“That’s wonderful.” Jeremy was bouncing around in front of her as if he had springs on his feet. “Judging by the exuberance of a certain young man, you’ve already told him that.”
“In part. It does my heart good, hearing him so happy. I’ll leave explaining the recuperation period to you. Normally, I’d let Rowdy go home in a few days, but he’s not your average pup. Chances are his immune system is next to nonexistent. With your house being a rental, no telling what diseases may be in the soil. The last people could have had a dog with distemper—or God knows what else. To be safe, I’d like to keep him here awhile.”
“How long are we talking about?”
“As long as Jeremy can stand it.”
Chloe winced. She didn’t think Jeremy could stand it for very long. “Rowdy got his first shots. Won’t it be safe to bring him here soon?”
“I don’t recommend that any pup be exposed to possible infection until it’s four months old, and Rowdy is far less robust than most.”
Chloe’s heart plummeted. “That seems a little overcautious.”
“Not with a pup like this. The shots don’t work right away. No puppy is fully protected until it’s four months old, and even then, there’s a slight risk.”
“Is there any way I can sterilize our yard?”
“With bleach, I suppose, but it would be hard on the grass—and expensive. Do you have a garage? You could sterilize a concrete floor.”
“No garage.” Taking in the run-down condition of the house, Chloe sank back in her chair. “Do you have a safe area for the puppy at your place?”
“At the end of the house, a carport. When he grows strong enough to spend time outdoors, I can build him a pen there.”
Chloe hated for Jeremy to wait so long, but she preferred that to his losing the puppy. “We’d rather be safe than be sorry. I’ll explain it to Jeremy.”
A few moments later when Chloe related the situation to her son, he took it better than she expected. “There are bad things hiding in the dirt, Mom.”
“What kind of bad things?” she couldn’t resist asking.
“Viruses and germs,” Jeremy whispered as if they were monsters, waiting to leap out at them. “All winter, they hide under the snow. Then it melts away, and even puppies that never go outside can get sick ’cause people walk through mud and bring germs into the house on their shoes. Rowdy got sick ’cause he sniffed a germ he couldn’t see.”
This bit of knowledge had Ben Longtree’s name written all over it. “Well, we definitely don’t want him to sniff any more.”
“Nope. He needs to stay with Mr. Longtree till his shots start to work.”
Sue was grinning when Chloe got to work a little before three. “You’ll never believe it! Jerry got the raise! A hundred and ten a month. Isn’t that fantastic?”
With five kids, the Baxters were financially strapped. Chloe was genuinely pleased for her friend. “What’re you doing to celebrate? I’ll baby-sit.”
“Would you, really?”
“Hey, why not? We get the same nights off. At your place, though. My ramshackle rental might implode from the vibration of little feet. It’ll be fun. We’ll have a barbecue, play lawn soccer, and have a movie fest. Popcorn and ice cream, my treat.”
Sue smiled blissfully. “Jerry and I haven’t gone anywhere for so long! I could wear my Victoria’s Secret bra and panties. They make him wild.”
“Well, then?”
“You’re on!” Sue agreed. “Let me talk to Jerry about when. Okay?”
“You know my schedule. Any night I’m off is fine with me.”
“You’re sure?”
“It’ll be good for Jeremy. He has a friend across the road, but it’s an older boy. He hasn’t met anyone close to his own age.”
“That won’t be the case with my yahoos.” There were only two years between each of Sue’s five children, and the youngest child was four. “He’ll have a blast. It’s you I’m worried about. Six kids are a handful.”
“I’ll manage.”
Chloe spent a moment reviewing notes from the first shift. A few minutes later, she had her desk in order and was settling down to work when Sheriff Lang came through the front door. Always respectful around ladies, the middle-aged lawman drew off his Stetson. His graying hair shone as brightly in the fluorescent lights as his silver badge. He wore the same kind of uniform his deputies did, only he didn’t fill it out quite as trimly, his belly forming a paunch over his belt, his once-broad chest gone flabby from lack of physical exercise. Despite that, he was still a handsome man with a craggy face turned leathery brown from years of exposure to the harsh Central Oregon elements.
Generally the sheriff was so busy that he paid the dispatchers little heed, but today he looked directly at Chloe. As he approached her desk, she braced for a chewing out, her mind racing as she tried to think what she might have done wrong.
“Chloe, I’d like a word with you,” he said. When she started up from her chair, he waved her back down. “It’s okay if Sue overhears. It’s nothing strictly private. It’s just come to my attention that you’re getting friendly with Ben Longtree.”
That was the last thing Chloe had expected him to say. “Not friendly, exactly. He’s treating my son’s puppy for parvo.”
Lang rubbed his jaw. “Just a word of caution,” he said solemnly. “What you do in your off-hours is entirely your own business, but seeing as how you’re new to town, I feel it’s my duty to give you a heads-up. Longtree has a history, and he’s always been a strange one. Be careful around him. I wouldn’t want to see you or your boy come to any grief.”
Chloe recalled how Ben had rested his cheek against Jeremy’s curls last night. “Are there any facts on which you base your distrust, Sheriff?”
The lawman smiled. “After thirty years at this job, I’ve come to trust my instincts. I can’t say why I don’t trust the man. Could be that quiet way of his. Or maybe it’s just those strange blue eyes, when he looks so Native American otherwise. Something about him just makes me edgy.”
“Do you think there’s any truth to the stories floating around about him?”
“What I think isn’t important. I can’t touch him without proof.” He winked at her. “That’s another thing thirty years has taught me. Proof eventually comes to him who waits. If he’s up to no good up there on that ridge, I’ll get him sooner or later, and when I do, it’ll give me a chance to dig deeper. Until then, be smart.”
The phones started blinking crazily just then, saving Chloe the need to reply. The sheriff continued on toward his office. Chloe and Sue exchanged a meaningful look, and then began taking calls. Just like that, they were swamped, with no letup for hours. At some point, Chloe saw the sheriff leave, hi
s passing only a blur. Things were so busy that even Bobby Lee failed to drop in at his usual time. Sue claimed the locals were gearing up for the weekend.
At 8:40, the calls dwindled to nothing. Silence descended over the office like a blanket. After tossing her headset on the desk, Sue rocked back in her chair. “Ah, man! I don’t know if I can make it two more hours.”
“I hear you,” Chloe commiserated.
Sue shot up and grabbed her purse. “Lattes! The stand closes at nine.”
“My treat tonight.” Chloe rifled through her handbag for her wallet, withdrew a five, and handed it to her coworker. “Would you rather I went?”
“The fresh air may revive me.” Sue tucked the money into a side pocket.
“Take your time. I can man the fort for a few minutes by myself.”
Chloe took advantage of the lull to do paperwork. She was busy at the keyboard when the door chimed to announce an arrival. Bobby Lee.
“You’re late tonight,” she said.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Been a bitch, then it had puppies.”
“I know. The phones have been ringing off the hook. It’s quiet now.”
“The calm before the storm.”
Bobby Lee moved toward her. He shoved things out of his way to sit on her desk. She grabbed her pencil cup just before it toppled.
“Oops, sorry,” he said.
She wanted to go back to work, but she couldn’t bring herself to be that rude. She didn’t like being alone with him. He’d never said or done anything out of the way, but since her divorce, men tended to make her tense.
He began toying with her Japanese lantern. Her heart leaped every time he pushed it to the edge of her desk. “Last night, I drove by your place to make sure you got home safely. I saw Longtree’s truck parked out front.”
“You drove by my house?”
He nodded and slid the glass paperweight toward the edge of her desk again. Chloe had a very bad feeling—a shivery one that moved up her spine and raised goose bumps on the back of her neck.