Only by Your Touch

  She made a gulping “huh-huh-huh” sound, her nails scoring the back of his neck. “B-Ben? H-he c-came. The p-police. I c-ca-called the police, and h-he came.”

  He stopped trying to make sense of it and hauled her more tightly against him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” He threw a worried glance into the house. A kitchen chair lay on its side in the living room. Jeremy. Snaking a hand under her butt, he braced his shoulder against the door frame to get leverage and shoved himself erect with her sagging in his arms. He got one foot over the threshold, braced, and bent at the knees to lift her off her feet. He kicked the door shut behind him. “Chloe, where’s your son?”

  She said something, but the garbled utterance made no sense. Ben knocked a magazine off the sofa and laid her on the cushions. He had to peel her off of him.

  “Let me go check on Jeremy. Okay? I’ll be right back.”

  He strode through the house, his heart cracking against his ribs like the fist of a giant. When he opened the child’s bedroom door, his legs went weak. Jeremy lay curled up in bed, Rowdy sleeping beside him. Both boy and dog were perfectly fine. Ben was surprised that all the racket in the living room hadn’t awakened Rowdy. He decided puppies, like little boys, played so hard that they could sleep through almost anything.

  Ben slumped against the door frame. He’d been afraid—so afraid that something had happened to the child. It wasn’t like Chloe to fall apart like this.

  As he retraced his steps across the living room, he saw that she was shaking as though with chills, her bare legs drawn to her chest, her arms locked around her knees. He grabbed up a bedspread lying on the floor and shook it over her as he knelt on one knee beside the sofa. Shock? Fear for her filled him. He had no idea what had happened, only that it had been something really bad.

  “Chloe?”

  She opened her eyes. In the light from the lamp on the end table, he could see tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. He smoothed her curly hair back from her face, every line of which had been engraved on his heart. After giving her a quick once-over, he could detect no physical injuries, but when he looked into her eyes, they told a different story.

  “What happened? Tell me what happened.” Ben cupped his hand to her cheek, trailing his thumb over the wet streaks. He loved her. Just the thought of someone frightening her or harming her made him shake with rage. “Who did this to you? Who did this?”

  “Bobby Lee,” she whispered. “He tried to break in. A trick. When I called the police, he took the c-call. Oh, God, Ben. It was so awful.”

  He made her repeat the story, interrupting to ask questions. When he’d finally dragged all of it out of her, he said, “You shot him with a cork?”

  “It worked on the window.”

  Ben might have laughed, but her eyes—oh, God, her eyes. She’d just come through a nightmare. If not for the champagne cork, the bastard might have raped her.

  “That miserable son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.”

  “No! Just—” She gulped, shivered, and clutched his arm. “Don’t leave us. Please, don’t leave us. I’m afraid of him. He said he’ll be back.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Ben smoothed her wildly tangled hair and kissed her forehead. “I won’t leave you, Chloe. Count on that. I won’t leave you. But I am going to call the police.”

  “No! No!” She grabbed his shirt. “He’ll hear the dispatch.”

  She rushed on to tell him about all the visits Bobby Lee had made to the Christmas Village, and how he’d parked outside to stare at her as she walked to and from her car. “He’s been stalking me. He thinks he’s above the law—that he can do anything, and no one can touch him.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because.” Her face crumpled. “You put up such a wall between us. I didn’t feel right, dumping all my problems on you when you refused to share anything with me.”

  Dump on him? Ben wanted to give her a good shake, but the urge no sooner struck than a heartfelt regret took its place. This was his fault, entirely his. She was right; he had erected a wall between them. When she’d needed him as a friend, he hadn’t been there for her.

  “Ah, sweetheart.” Ben gathered her into his arms and just held her for a while. “I’m so sorry. No more secrets. Okay? I swear, I’ll tell you everything.”

  She clung to his neck with quivering arms. Definitely in shock, he decided. Until she calmed down enough to start thinking straight again, he needed to take control. The first order of business was to call the authorities, just in case the bastard decided to come back. Ben didn’t kid himself. Man to man, with even odds, he’d have no problem holding his own with Bobby Lee, but the deputy wouldn’t hesitate to fight dirty, using any weapon at his disposal to win.

  When he stood, Chloe fixed him with a wildly frightened look. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to report this.”

  “But—”

  “Just trust me. All right? I don’t want him coming back here any more than you do. When I confront the son of a bitch, I don’t want you or Jeremy anywhere around.”

  Ben went to the kitchen, located the phone book, and called Frank Bower at home. The deputy answered on the second ring, sounding wide-awake, as only a man accustomed to middle-of-the-night phone calls could.

  “Frank, this is Ben Longtree. I’m sorry for waking you up, but I’ve got some trouble on my hands. I need your help.” As briefly as possible, Ben recounted Chloe’s story. “She’s terrified to call the police again, and I can’t blame her. He’s armed. If he comes back, I may not be able to hold him off.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Frank said.

  The next two hours passed in an awful blur for Chloe. Ben brought her some panties and jeans, then helped her pull them on before Frank Bower arrived. Then he dampened a cloth and dabbed at her face and neck, his touch so gentle and soothing that Chloe wanted to huddle against him.

  “Better?” he asked softly.

  “Mm, much.” It was true. She did feel better, and not because of the coolness of the cloth. She looked into his eyes, and she knew she was safe, that he’d die before he let anything happen to her or her son. “Thank you, Ben. I’m so glad you decided to come over tonight. So glad. I didn’t know what to do.”

  He ran a fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, well, you’re still not real steady on your feet. Just let me handle it. Okay?”

  Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and her mouth twisted. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I don’t know why I’m shaking like this. He didn’t touch me. It was just—I don’t know—the threat of it, I guess, and the horrible things he said. He told me he’d bash Jeremy’s brains in, Ben. I was so scared. I’ve never in all my life been that scared, not even when Roger flew into one of his rages.”

  Ben could well imagine the things Bobby Lee had said. Tightening his arms around her, he closed his eyes, thanking God that she’d kept her head and thought of a way to fight back. As weapons went, a champagne cork wasn’t exactly fail proof, but it had worked, and he was proud of her.

  He left her to make some coffee. Then he gently guided her to the kitchen table, put a mug into her trembling hands, and sat next to her, rubbing her tense shoulders. When Frank arrived, Ben remained at her side, holding her hand and prompting her when she grew confused while answering the deputy’s questions.

  When Frank had heard the entire story, beginning with Bobby Lee’s breaking her Japanese lantern and ending with his attempted attack on her earlier that night, he sat back in his chair, glanced at Ben, and frowned with concern.

  “Chloe,” he said softly, “when you and Bobby Lee went out to dinner, are you positive the evening went exactly as you’ve told me?”

  Pale and still shaking, she took a moment to reply. “Yes, Frank. Why do you ask?”

  Frank scratched his temple. “Bobby Lee tells a different story.”

  Ben broke in to say, “Bobby Lee has a story? What version has he been telling?”


  Looking uncomfortable, Frank resettled his Stetson on his head. “Well, he says—” He glanced apologetically at Chloe. “Not saying it’s so or anything, but he claims he wanted to head home at eight, and it was you who insisted on a few dances in the lounge. Afterwards, he says you asked him to drive down to the river. Once there, you came on to him. He turned you down. You grew furious and ran off into the woods. He tried to coax you back to the vehicle, but you refused, saying you’d rather walk.”

  “That isn’t how it happened,” Chloe whispered shakily. Her nails dug into Ben’s palm, giving him reason to fear that she’d had all she could take for one evening. “That isn’t how it went at all.” Her voice rose to a shrill, reed-whistle pitch on the last word. “He’s lying.”

  “That’s the version he’s told. The next day when he came to work, you’d already cleaned out your desk. You spoke briefly with the sheriff and made some accusations, but you didn’t press any charges. If he really tried to force himself on you, why didn’t you follow through, Chloe?”

  “When I hit him on the nose, he let me go. He’d been drinking.” Chloe lifted her hands in helpless perplexity. “What should I have done? I didn’t know if he’d ever done such a thing before. I thought maybe it was just the alcohol. You know? I didn’t want to ruin his reputation and possibly his whole life over one stupid mistake.” She sent Ben a miserable look that made him wish he could make all of this go away. “There was also his badge to consider. I’m new to town. Who would have believed me? Not even Sheriff Lang took my story seriously.”

  Ben wished now that he had more forcefully insisted on accompanying her to the department that day. Whether the sheriff held him in high regard or not, at least Ben could have corroborated Chloe’s story to some extent, which might have made Lang listen up.

  “If you didn’t think Lang would believe you,” Frank asked, “then why did you bother to tell him about it at all?”

  “I couldn’t be positive it was an isolated incident,” Chloe replied faintly. “I was afraid Bobby Lee might do the same thing again with one of my successors, and I felt it was my responsibility to at least tell the sheriff what had happened, whether he chose to believe me or not. That way, if it occurred again, he’d be more inclined to believe the next woman.”

  The deputy nodded and then sighed wearily. “I can understand why you hesitated to press charges, and to be absolutely honest, after being in this line of work for so many years, I wish more people would think twice. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case. It’s also a documented fact that an appalling percentage of women play the rape card just to get even over a real or imagined slight.” Frank passed a hand over his eyes. “In most instances, those women bring up past incidents that they failed to report. Unfortunately for you, that’s a red flag to an investigating officer.”

  Chloe’s hand felt icy. Ben rubbed his thumb over the backs of her slender fingers, lending her what little warmth he could. “Is it a red flag to you, Frank?” he demanded, not attempting to keep the anger from his voice.

  Frank squirmed on his chair. “Let’s not personalize this, Ben.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s starting to feel pretty damned personal. It sounds to me as if you’re implying that Chloe may be playing some vicious little game, trying to get even with Bobby Lee. That’s not only preposterous, but it’s damned insulting.”

  “I’m not implying any such thing.”

  Ben tightened his hold on Chloe’s hand. “Then you’d better clarify your meaning, Deputy. Going on what you just said, I’m ready to call an attorney and peel the paint off the walls down at that damned sheriff’s department. There are laws in this country to protect women, especially in the workplace. How would Sheriff Lang like to have a huge sexual harassment and attempted rape lawsuit filed against him? Correct me if I’m wrong, but he is an elected official, isn’t he? Win or lose, if we make enough noise, we could seriously hurt him at the polls.”

  Frank puffed air into his cheeks. “I don’t run the show, Ben. I don’t blame you for being angry, but let’s keep it in its proper perspective.”

  “You’re basically saying that without any proof to back up her story about tonight, it’s unlikely that Chloe can do anything. Isn’t that right?”

  “I’m saying that her failure to press charges the first time could backfire on her now. That’s all. It casts a suspicious light on her whole story.” Frank flashed Chloe another hangdog look. “It’s not a matter of what I think. I know Chloe personally. I don’t believe for a second that she would concoct a crazy story just to get a man in trouble. I’m just laying out the facts and telling you how others may see things.”

  Ben forced himself to sit back in his chair. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so pissed. “I picked Chloe up on the highway that night, Frank. I saw the state she was in. Her blouse was ripped half off her. She was smeared with blood. And, in my opinion, she was in shock.”

  “Where did the blood come from?”

  “She whacked the bastard on the nose to get away from him,” Ben explained. “It must have given him a nosebleed.”

  “Do you still have the articles of clothing?” Frank asked Chloe.

  “No, I threw them away. I couldn’t fix the blouse or get the stains out of the undergarment, and I couldn’t bring myself to wear either of them again.”

  Frank pursed his lips and jotted more notes. “I believe you, Chloe. Please don’t misunderstand. But the sheriff has to abide by the law, look at the situation and allegations, and decide, to the best of his ability, if Bobby Lee actually did anything wrong. As it stands, the deputy didn’t finish what he came here to do, so we don’t really have much on him. There are no marks on you to corroborate your story about this evening, nothing to prove he reentered the house after he left the first time.”

  “Are you saying that nothing can be done because I managed to stop him from raping me?” Chloe sent Ben an incredulous look.

  “I understand your frustration,” Frank commiserated, “but we have to have proof before we can make an arrest. And even if we can come up with some proof, we’re still talking about an almost rape, not an actual one.”

  He made it sound so trivial. An almost rape. By the sudden tightness of Chloe’s grip, Ben knew the words had struck home with her, and that they hurt.

  “He threatened to kill my son,” she whispered. “He said he’d bash his brains in if I didn’t cooperate. And you’re telling me that he may be back on patrol tomorrow as if nothing happened?”

  “I’ll do everything I can to see that doesn’t occur. If what you’ve just told me is true, he shouldn’t be wearing a badge.”

  “If?” Ben sat forward in his chair again.

  “I don’t make the rules, Ben. I just follow them. That being the case, I can’t make any promises.” Frank looked tired. “When Deputy Schuck told Chloe that he’d covered his ass, he wasn’t blowing smoke. The state dispatcher heard the exchange.” He swung his hand. “He didn’t force a door or window to enter the house. The only footprints outside are undoubtedly his, and he had a reason to be out there, which makes it appear that she fabricated the attempted burglary. There’s also the dinner-date incident to corroborate his story. He’s laid the stepping stones very carefully.”

  “If he weren’t a deputy, what follow-up would be done on a call like this?” Ben asked evenly.

  Frank shifted on the chair and flexed his shoulders. “If you’re implying that Bobby Lee may get preferential treatment, I won’t argue. He’s been a deputy in this county for going on twenty years, and he has a spotless record. I’ll also remind you that if he weren’t a deputy, he never could have pulled this off.”

  “Point taken.” Ben gave Chloe’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It just seems to me a piss-poor way to do things, Frank. What if he follows through on his threat and comes back? Chloe will be hung out to dry.”

  Frank nodded. “Unless I can come up with more than I’ve got right now, you’re probably right
. I’ll do my best. That’s all I can say.”

  Ben stood to see Frank to the door. “However it turns out, I appreciate your coming over. I know I dragged you out of bed.”

  “Not a problem,” Frank assured him. “Trust me. Good cops don’t like bad cops. If I had my druthers, Schuck would be suspended until further investigation.” He tipped his hat to Chloe. “Let’s hope that champagne cork blacked both his eyes and he’s got goose eggs on his head. If so, maybe, just maybe, I can nail him.”

  After Frank left, Chloe just sat and stared at the surface of the table. Ben rubbed a hand up and down her spine. She felt violated. It made no sense, because Bobby Lee had barely touched her, but he’d raped her with words. The images that he’d painted in her mind would remain there for a very long while.

  “Sweetheart, you sit tight, okay? I’m going to gather up your things in pillowcases.”

  Chloe blinked. “What?”

  “I’m not leaving you and Jeremy here. You’re coming to the ridge.”

  “I can’t do that. I have a job and—”

  “I’ll drive you back and forth to work.” He caught her chin in his hand. “I’m not leaving you alone. Understood? You’re coming with me.”

  Once at the ridge, Chloe felt as if all the starch went out of her spine. It was all she could do to walk to the door. Diablo greeted them in the entryway. He was so happy to see Chloe that he actually wagged his tail. While Ben disappeared to put Jeremy to bed, she sank to her knees to hug the wolf.

  “Oh, Diablo, I wish you’d been there,” she whispered against his ruff. “You would have protected us. I know it.”

  Diablo snuffled her hair and whined. Recalling the first time she’d ever seen him, she buried her face in his fur and sobbed. She felt so battered. So filthy. She remembered the sick delight in Bobby Lee’s eyes and started to shake again. In an attempt to collect herself, she struggled to focus on other things. Diablo. And Ben. And Methuselah. She had been reluctant to come here, but now she was very glad that Ben had insisted. This place had become more of a home to her than where she actually lived.