Only by Your Touch

  Jeremy squirmed to get down. Chloe tightened her hold on him.

  “The cougar got his paw caught in an illegal trap,” Ben said, determined to continue.

  Her eyes grew strangely blank as he talked, making him wonder if she was even hearing him.

  “If you’ll only look more closely, you’ll see that he’s almost blind,” Ben added. “All totaled, he has only three teeth left in his head, and they’re all decayed. He may knock you over with halitosis, but otherwise he’s harmless.”

  Jeremy finally managed to wriggle free of her arms. When his feet touched the ground, he grabbed her hand and began tugging her toward the kitchen. Ben didn’t want her in there. She’d see all the animals, and then his goose really would be cooked.

  “Jeremy,” he tried.

  But it was no use. The child was talking a mile a minute. “Mr. Longtree is giving Rowdy a drink of water in his vein, Mom. You gotta come see!”

  Ben had been born with a measure of fatalism, inherited, he felt sure, from his Shoshone grandfather. The invasion of his home spelled disaster, but it was done. All he could do was pray Chloe Evans didn’t turn him in.

  The last thing Chloe wanted was to go deeper into the house. That wolf had tried to rip her throat out, and no telling what the cougar was capable of. She just wanted to get her son to the car, lock the doors, and drive like a madwoman off this ridge.

  Unfortunately, Jeremy was bent on taking her to see his puppy, and Chloe couldn’t think how to gracefully refuse.

  At a glance, the kitchen looked normal with its custom cabinetry and high-end appliances. The counters were clean, and the dark green porcelain of the sink shone in the sunlight that poured through the sunroom windows. Chloe saw no pots or residue spills on the range top to indicate illegal drugs had been produced there.

  Then she saw the cages—big ones, small ones—taking up every available space. Atop the green granite breakfast bar, a cylindrical pen of wire mesh housed an owl with a bandaged leg. At each end of the U-shaped counter, other cages were stacked three and four deep with all manner of wild creatures confined in them.

  “I hope you’ll excuse the menagerie,” Longtree said from behind her. “I no longer hang my shingle anywhere, but I’m still a vet. When I come across wounded critters in the woods, I can’t bring myself to turn a blind eye. At present, the kitchen is the only place I have to treat them.”

  Chloe took a hasty inventory. In addition to the owl, she saw an opossum, a rabbit, two raccoons, a one-legged quail, a silver gray squirrel, a red fox, and what looked alarmingly like an ordinary rat.

  Longtree moved past her to the table. He spent a moment fiddling with the IV taped to the puppy’s leg. “I know it probably seems strange.” His black brows drew together in a frown. “No probably to it, it is strange. But I’m a vet, and these animals needed my help.”

  Just that, nothing more? Given the fact that he was breaking the law nine ways to perdition, she thought he should offer more of an explanation. He knew she could turn him in and send him to jail. In Oregon, it was illegal to cage wild animals without a permit, and the state didn’t mess around when it came to prosecuting offenders.

  Just last week at work, a man had been hauled in for poaching. He’d not only lost his rifle and vehicle, but he’d also forfeited his hunting privileges for two years, been fined five thousand dollars, and would serve up to twenty-four months in jail. The arresting deputy had been sporting a black eye and a bloody lip, which he’d received while trying to cuff the offender. Criminals didn’t happily surrender to arrest when they faced such stiff punishments.

  Chloe hadn’t lived here when Bobby Lee Schuck brought the game wardens to Cinnamon Ridge, but she’d heard stories. Half a dozen animals had been confiscated, and Longtree had received a hefty fine along with a warning that he would be arrested if he were caught breaking the law again.

  He didn’t strike her as being dim-witted, so why wasn’t he concerned about her seeing all this? An awful thought occurred to her. Maybe he had no fear of her turning him in because he didn’t intend to give her the chance.

  Chloe tightened her grip on her son’s hand. Behind her, a wolf and cougar blocked her escape. Yesterday, Lucy Gant’s allegations that this man had done murder and disposed of his victims’ bodies had seemed outlandish. Now Chloe wasn’t laughing. Normal people didn’t let an adult cougar lounge around like an ordinary house cat.

  “If you don’t practice as a vet anymore, what do you do for a living?”

  “This and that.”

  His reply did little to allay her concerns. This home had cost him a pretty penny. He had to be making money. The question was, doing what?

  “I’m a dispatcher at the sheriff’s department.”

  Chloe silently congratulated herself on slipping that into the conversation. Their chances of getting out of there would be much better if he realized she was on friendly terms with individuals who would search for her if she disappeared.

  He flicked the IV tube with his finger and readjusted the clip. His lips thinned, deepening the slashes that bracketed each corner of his mouth. “Jeremy mentioned that you’d just moved here. How do you like the new job?”

  His burning blue gaze started at her toes and traveled slowly upward. Chloe had sworn off men, and her sensual radar was definitely rusty, but she still recognized an appreciative once-over when she got one. She locked her knees to stop them from quaking.

  Oh, God. He was a very large man. If he was bent on keeping them here, she was in big trouble. His arms and shoulders rippled with strength every time he moved, and she’d seen how fast he was with his hands when he collared the wolf. She had pitted her strength against Roger’s more than once and always come out the loser. She still remembered how it felt to see stars and manage to stay on her feet by sheer force of will. Even worse, she knew that even willpower wouldn’t keep her standing if a man like Longtree put his weight behind a blow.

  His examination of her person ended at her face. Arching one eyebrow, he met her gaze with an insolent challenge. In that moment—which seemed inexorably long—Chloe had the eerie feeling he knew what she was thinking. Even worse, the twitch of his lips told her he found her fear of him amusing.

  Today the Stetson was absent, giving her a better view of his face. Black eyebrows without a hint of an arch capped eyes as blue as the ocean on a summer day. His features had the hard, sharp edges of chipped granite polished to a high sheen. He wore his shoulder-length hair loose with a multicolored braided cord serving as a headband to keep the glossy strands out of his eyes.

  For the life of her, Chloe couldn’t remember what he’d asked her. Standing there, she felt numb yet excruciatingly nervous, trying to recall his last words. Her job, she finally remembered.

  “So far, I love the work.” She really, really wished her voice wouldn’t squeak. “I’ve never worked in a place where everyone’s so friendly.” She swallowed to clear her throat. “Frank Bower—one of the deputies—has a daughter, Tracy, who’s turned out to be the nicest sitter Jeremy’s ever had.”

  “Frank’s a good man.”

  “Oh, you know him, then?” That was good. Very good.

  “We went to school together.”

  “Mr. Bower took me for a ride in his Bronco,” Jeremy chimed in. “I got to make the lights flash and talk on the radio!”

  Longtree winked at the child. “It pays to have connections.”

  “Yep.”

  Chloe glanced pointedly at her watch. “We should be going. I told Tracy to call her dad if I wasn’t back in thirty minutes. I’d hate for Frank to drive all the way out here to find us.”

  As Longtree studied her with cool detachment, his cheek muscle started to tic. In that moment, Chloe knew how hapless settlers must have felt when they came face-to-face with a Shoshone warrior.

  “Are you threatening me, Mrs. Evans?”

  Chloe’s stomach dropped. She had been threatening him, but she hadn’t meant for him to realize i
t. “Good grief, no! What on earth makes you think so?”

  “Now, there’s a question.”

  Chloe tried to laugh. The result was a thin, quavering cackle that sounded half-hysterical. “We just need to get going. I was just trying to explain.”

  “What about Rowdy, Mommy?” Jeremy tugged his hand free from hers, ran to the table, and went up on his tiptoes to pet his puppy. “Will we come back later to see him?”

  If she got her son out of here, she would never step foot on this property again.

  Longtree turned to rest his narrow hips against the counter behind him. After crossing his ankles and folding his arms, he studied her for what seemed forever, staring first at her face and then taking another measure of her person with an insolent slowness that made her skin burn.

  His eyes gave away nothing of his thoughts. “I have no intention of keeping you here. If you want to take Rowdy with you, that’s fine, too. However, before you make that choice, understand the consequences. The pup is burning up with fever and dangerously—” He glanced at Jeremy, fell silent, then changed course. “He’s dehydrated, and I felt mild cardiac fibrillation when I took his pulse. Neil Fenderbottom’s a good vet, but he’s got a heavy patient load. If you take Rowdy to the clinic, chances are they’ll put him in a cage and get to him as quickly as they can.” He lifted a black eyebrow. “Time is of the essence. If you’d like to chance it, that’s your choice.”

  The word choice rattled around in her head. Her stomach, knotted with nerves, did a funny little bump and roll. He didn’t mean to keep them here then?

  Searching his eyes, Chloe saw that he didn’t. She also realized that he was coldly furious because she’d thought he might.

  “I see.”

  “I would hope. My business is healing, not harming irrational women and helpless little boys.”

  Chloe couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Longtree straightened, took a glass from the cupboard, and stepped to the refrigerator. “I’ll pour you each some lemonade. You can powwow at the table. Decisions are always easier to make if you can sit somewhere and think things through.” After refilling Jeremy’s glass, he set one for Chloe beside it, then returned the pitcher to the fridge. “There’s a pad on the counter with my number on it. If you decide to leave the pup, jot down your phone number and take mine so we can keep in touch. While you talk it over, I have work I need to be doing. The IV is easily removed. Just undo the tape, pull it out, and redo the bandage to apply pressure so he doesn’t bleed.” He smiled at Jeremy and thrust out his hand. “Jeremy, it’s been a pleasure. With your mom’s permission, I hope you’ll come see me again.”

  Jeremy solemnly shook hands with the man. “Does this mean you aren’t gonna make Rowdy well for me?”

  Ben flicked a hard look at Chloe. “That’s up to your mother. If you decide to leave the pup, I’ll do everything I can for him.”

  Chloe was beginning to feel like a worm. Oh, how she wished she’d never met Lucy Gant and listened to her stories. “If we leave the pup, I will expect to pay you, Mr. Longtree. Can you give me an idea of the cost?”

  “You can’t afford me,” he said icily. “Fortunately, Jeremy can, and we’ve already agreed on the terms. Right, Jeremy?”

  “Yup. It won’t cost any money for medicine or anything, Mom.”

  Ben Longtree ruffled the child’s hair and grinned. The smile transformed his face. “Good-bye, Jeremy.” His voice turned chilly again when he addressed Chloe. “I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Evans.”

  As he left the kitchen, he snapped his fingers. The wolf and cougar rose from their respective positions to follow him to another part of the house. Chloe gazed after the unlikely trio. Never had she felt quite so ashamed of herself.

  “Mom?” Jeremy leaned around to make her look at him. “Please, can’t I leave Rowdy here? Mr. Longtree will take real, real good care of him. I know he will. And it won’t cost us any money.”

  After the way she’d behaved, Chloe cringed at the thought of accepting the man’s charity. On the other hand, she was in no position to refuse. She went to stand over the puppy. His breathing was rapid and shallow. She could tell just by looking that he was hanging on to life by a thread. If she removed the IV, how could she be sure he would make it to the clinic?

  Decision made, Chloe jotted down her phone number. She signed off with two words, I’m sorry. As apologies went, it was inadequate. Maybe, as an olive branch, she could bake Ben Longtree a cake or something. It was the least she could do. He’d even given her son lemonade. God, she felt like such a witch.

  She had just laid down the pen when a feminine voice rang out behind her. “Well, I’ll be! He actually did it.”

  Chloe whirled. A slender woman in a floral dress entered the kitchen. Her short brown hair was threaded with silver, and her blue eyes shone with warmth.

  “Hello,” Chloe found the presence of mind to say.

  The woman smoothed her bodice and patted her hair. “Isn’t it just like a man not to mention someone’s coming? I would have prettied up if I had known.”

  Chloe thought she was lovely as she was. This must be the demented Nan Longtree. Only she didn’t seem crazy. She looked sweet—and embarrassed to have been caught with her dress wrinkled and her hair mussed.

  “Actually, I dropped in unannounced.”

  “Oh. That explains it, then, and no matter. It’s glad I’ll be to have some female company once a week.”

  Bewildered, Chloe just smiled.

  “Has he shown you through the house?”

  “Oh, no, we didn’t get so far as that. I, um, think we have our wires crossed, Mrs. Longtree. I just—”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Nan flapped her hand. “It’s just as well that I do it. He’d never in the world think to tell you all that needs done.”

  Even with the glass office doors closed, Ben heard his mom’s voice. He cocked his head. Great. Just what the situation needed, a performance by his mother.

  Pushing up from his caster chair, he left the office. As he strode to the main part of the house, he heard Nan ask, “Do you do windows?”

  Chloe Evans laughed, the sound light and airy. “I’ve scrubbed a few.”

  “No store-bought stuff. Vinegar and newspaper. It never leaves smears.”

  “That’s how my mom cleans windows.”

  Nan replied, “It’s the only way to do them properly.”

  Just as Ben reached the kitchen, his mother jerked open a drawer. “Will you look at this?” She clucked her tongue. “With all these critters, we’ve got hair everywhere. In my day, I kept a spotless house. I can’t anymore.”

  “This is a large home,” Chloe said sympathetically.

  “Yes. I’m so glad Ben finally hired someone. To his credit, I have to say that he tries. But he’s so busy, he only gives the house a hit and a miss. The drawers are driving me crazy.” Nan opened another one. “Isn’t this awful?”

  Ben descended on his mother. “Mom?” Heat crawled up his neck. She might as well show off his soiled underwear. “What are you doing?”

  Nan smiled up at him. “I’m walking Chloe through, dear. You run along and see to your business. I’ll get her all lined out.”

  Chloe arched her russet brows. “There seems to be a bit of confusion.”

  “Mom, Mrs. Evans isn’t a cleaning lady.”

  Nan kept talking. “It won’t be necessary to clean drawers weekly. Just vacuum them out with the crevice attachment a couple of times a month.”

  “Mom?”

  Nan waved him away and opened the silverware drawer. “He keeps this one wiped out, thank goodness.” She dampened her finger and chased a lone raccoon hair. “Mostly, anyway.” A speck of something on the front of a cupboard caught her attention, and just that quickly, her voice trailed away. The next instant, she was humming a lullaby.

  Ben stared at the back of his mother’s head. In the beginning, it had broken his heart to see her like this,
but now he just bled a little each time.

  “I’m sorry about this,” he told Chloe. “A few weeks ago, I said something about needing a housekeeper.” He shrugged. “She has Alzheimer’s.”

  Ben half expected Nan’s dementia to send Chloe Evans running, but instead she turned a compassionate gaze on Nan. “It’s fine. I understand.”

  If Ben lived to be a hundred, he would never get women. She was looking at him now as though he were almost human.

  Touching a hand to Nan’s shoulder, she leaned around to say, “Nan, I’m leaving now. It was lovely talking with you.”

  Nan turned, her expression vacuous. Still humming, she wandered from the kitchen, took up her usual station in the family room, and set her chair to rocking as she began to crochet. Chloe gazed after her, her bottom lip captured between her teeth.

  “I really am sorry,” Ben said again. “She drifts in and out. She probably felt embarrassed. Stress of any kind seems to trigger it.”

  Chloe nodded. “I realized something was—well, not wrong, exactly, but not exactly right.” Her gaze clung to his. “Mr. Longtree, I want to apologize. My behavior has been deplorable, and I—”

  Ben cut her off with a lift of his hand. “It’s not necessary. I’ve heard the stories in town, too. Why don’t we leave it at that?”

  Her face flushed crimson, whether with anger or embarrassment he couldn’t say. In that moment, he didn’t really care. He just wanted her gone. His mother’s illness was something private and painful that he shared with no one.

  Chapter Five

  Chloe’s feet were dragging when she got to work. The security system chimed as she pushed open the front door. Sue Baxter, her coworker—a chubby brunette with laughing green eyes, a warm smile, a wonderful husband, and five little Baxters to keep her busy—waved as she ended a conversation on the phone.

  Waving back, Chloe circled her desk to stuff her purse into its cubbyhole. “Oh, Sue, you’re a saint!” she cried when she saw the take-out latte on her blotter. “I can’t wait to lock my lips on that. I’m so exhausted, I can barely see.”