by Cheryl Wyatt
Sarah cleared her throat. “So, there’s a romantic tradition at the PJ cookouts.”
Romantic? Chloe eyed her suspiciously. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Couples, married, dating or otherwise interested in each other, go for a little hike while the older women, like Mina, watch the kiddos.”
“Oh, that’s nice. And your point is?” Chloe hid her grin behind her water bottle. She sipped the last drop. Southern Illinois was so humid she never felt dry enough on the outside or hydrated enough on the inside.
“Just letting you know. In case…” Sarah smiled.
Despite the water, Chloe’s mouth dried. “In case what?” If Sarah was hinting at Chloe helping Mina with the kids, she was all for it. She loved children. She just didn’t want her own yet. She needed to build her program first so she could focus on her children fully when the time came.
A bunch of cars pulled up the Petrowskis’ picturesque drive. Her pulse took on a frenetic pace when Chance slid from a white SUV like a knight in camouflage armor.
His words from their dinner at the restaurant drifted through her mind. He’d made no secret that he wanted children young. You’ll make a wonderful father to your children…and a great husband to some lucky lady someday. Regret poked holes in her resolve. Mental patches didn’t help. He looked so cute walking and talking, expressing and gesturing and—
“Chloe?”
Chloe removed her hand from patting her hair and faced Sarah. “Yes?” She blinked.
Sarah peered at Chance, now helping his dad from an industrial van. “Oh. Now I see why you didn’t hear my question.” She giggled.
Chloe’s face heated. “I, well, er, sorry, what were you asking?”
Sarah’s grin widened. “I asked three times if you’d met anyone interesting since staying in Refuge.”
“But we can clearly see now that you have.” Celia flailed arms toward Chance and danced like a penguin.
Mandy winked at Amelia. Mina snickered. Then Amber joined in.
Chloe kicked multiple shins under the picnic table. “You’re all as bad as my cousin Mallory. Shh! Here he comes. And for the record, I’m not taking that walk.”
“I wonder if he’s just as interested.” Mandy sipped a bottle of water and eyed Chance.
Just then his face lifted, and he caught sight of Chloe. His steps faltered and his grin exploded. He waved, then blushed when the surrounding PJs socked his arm.
Mina snorted into her hand. “Well. No question there.”
Chloe bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Seriously, guys. Don’t push. Things would never work between us.”
But rather than heed her appeal for a cease-fire on the cupid posse arrows, the women fell into peals of laughter.
“What?” Chloe blinked.
“That’s exactly what every one of us said about our PJs too and look what happened.” Sarah brandished a diamond ring and her wedding band. The other four women followed suit by lifting their sparkly, adorned left hands.
“And Vince’s wife, Val, would say the same if she were here,” Amelia said.
Amber nodded. “She never thought things would work out between her and Vince.”
“I’m not taking the walk.” Their dinner and movie had been a friendship outing, right?
Snorting, Mina scooted over, presumably to leave a place next to her since Chance had settled his dad under a shady spot and was jogging over.
Everything in Chloe wanted to protest. But the words died as Chance drew near.
“Hey, Chloe.” His voice melted over her like sweet liquid chocolate on a fondue fountain. How could it catch her so off guard?
And how could she forget every single time just how deep and dreamy and pleasant to the ears his voice was?
And why did it resonate straight through to her soul?
The women, still laughing, dispersed.
“Wow. Like that’s not obvious,” Chloe muttered, fisting her lid and snapping the top off her bottle. “I see Ivan’s here. That’s wonderful!”
He smiled at his dad. “Yeah. Today would have been his and Mom’s anniversary. Manny and Celia were both widowed before meeting each other. They say the first year of all the ‘firsts’ without their loved one is hardest. I think that’s why everyone arranged this.”
Thick emotion in Chance’s throat when he spoke yanked her heart to attention. Her world fell by the wayside and her mind orbited into a daze as he turned, bent and extended his hand and an irresistible smile. “So, there’s a bunch of squirrels in the woods that I have nearly tamed. Want to walk with me and see ’em?”
“Walk?” she squeaked.
“Yeah, and there’s a family of deer with twin spotted fawns in a field near the squirrels. We’ll take carrots. They’ll come right up and eat out of our hands.”
Like he had her eating out of his right now with his contagious exuberance over the animals.
“And I rescued a beaver from a tangle of barbed wire down the end of a stream. He’ll sometimes come up and let me toss him crackers. He’s cute.”
So are you. Wait, rescued? “You rescued a beaver? A live, wild one?”
He nodded. Eyes scanned the crowds of people conglomerating in various parts of the yard. Some couples started down the trail of doom, which disgustingly now half appealed, half repelled.
Chance refastened his gaze on hers and drifted closer. “You’re the only one here who totally gets me and my concern for these animals. I’d love nothing more than to share them with you. It’d mean a lot to me if you’d walk the hike with me.”
This man’s life had been bereft of joy for six solid months. He’d weathered loss like a five-star soldier.
How could she consider denying him this one small pleasure? An inner flush crept from her stomach to her chest.
“I…uh…mmm…not sure that—”
He smiled. “Please? For me?” And as if that wasn’t convincing enough, he wove his arm through hers and slid his strong, warm hand agonizingly slowly down her inner forearm until their hands nestled palm to palm.
His touch, both sure and pure, seared her flesh with fires of innocence that branded in her a deep and irrefutable knowing.
This is your soul mate. This is meant to be.
Awestruck, her heart and hope leaped inside her.
The world around the two of them faded away. All the personal protests and reasons she shouldn’t ceased to exist in her mind. The chaos calmed.
All she could see was Chance.
And every reason she wanted to go.
Chance’s alluring eyes and softened face hitched her breath and sent her pulse skittering because he had the look of a man falling in love. He gently drew her close and tugged her up. “Walk with me, Chloe?”
Gazes welded, she rose—a little dazed, a little dreamy—and definitely not caring that every surprised woman in the cupid posse probably gawked and cheered and that she’d have to eat crow later.
She wanted nothing more this moment than to take that walk with Chance.
And two hours later she wanted to take the walk with him again and again and again. When they returned to the yard, Ivan’s face brightened as he observed them approach hand-in-hand. Chance grinned down at her and squeezed.
“See coons and squirrels?” Ivan asked Chloe. His eyes twinkled.
She eyed Chance and respect rose for him as did admiration. “I did.” She’d also seen inside the heart of a man who loved animals as much as she. A heart she could lose herself loving.
Chance released her hand but let his fingers brush hers in the process. “Looks like the party’s wrapping up. You ready to leave Dad?”
Ivan’s smile faded. “I reckon if I have to.” His eyes said otherwise. Chloe could relate. She didn’t want this day, or their walk to ever end. She smiled at Ivan and studied Chance. “Maybe we could make this an every-Saturday outing?” Excitement welled up when twin grins erupted on the Garrison men’s faces, flooding her with equal hope and fear.
Chapter Nine
Chance whistled long and low as he knelt to view the wicked rash covering Chloe’s shins four weeks later when she arrived for Ivan’s thrice-weekly therapy.
Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays had grown to be Chance’s favorite three days of the week the past month. But Saturdays beat all.
The more he’d gotten to know Chloe, the more he wanted to know more. He called every morning to wish her a good day and every evening to say sweet dreams. They’d rescued and placed animals in homes together. One rescue involved a neglected puppy, whom they placed with a foster child who’d suffered the same. Every incident sealed in his mind the importance of Chloe’s program, and her growing importance to him. Their bond deepened more with every passing Saturday, especially during their walks at the past few PJ cookouts. Ivan’s mood and health had improved as well. Getting out had done wonders for the both of them.
“Are you sure it’s some kind of plant poison?” Chloe nibbled her lip and wiggled her knees together, probably to ease the itch. “I don’t recall us hiking through nettles or any three-leafed plants at the last PJ cookout.”
“No, but Midnight did. And I’m sure you’ve petted him since the last hike.” Chance rose and went to his bathroom medicine cabinet.
Chloe followed, her body twitching and contorting like a spastic windup toy. “What do you think it is?”
“Could be poison parsnip, but most likely it’s just a bad case of poison ivy.”
“How long will that last?”
“About two, three weeks… if you don’t scratch.” He intercepted her hand, which looked about to do just that. “When and how’d it start?”
“I noticed at bedtime last night that I had a slight spot on my knee. Then I woke up in the middle of the night to positively the itchiest experience in my life. I don’t deal well with itching.”
Chance nodded and opened a bottle of calamine lotion.
“I turned on the light and saw this strand of blisters but thought I was just having an allergic reaction to something I ate day before yesterday at the cookout. Did I mention itching drives me berserk?” She jabbed her hand toward her shin.
Chance was faster. Hand there, he pressed it over hers before her fingernails could make their mark.
She stuck her tongue at him and tried to wriggle her hand free.
“Sit on them. That’ll help.”
Surprisingly, she complied.
“I took Benadryl. It made me sleep late. I went to the Refuge City Council meeting groggy and felt unprepared. Steele and Bunyan aren’t budging. I’m trying to get a majority vote, but Bunyan insists I need unanimous for clearance.”
“Let me know how to help you, Chloe, and I will.”
She blinked and seemed surprised at that. Doubtful, even, that he was sincere. One day, the girl would learn he wasn’t like her dad. He would be there. He needed to be patient and not push, or like the wounded forest animals he was in the habit of helping, she’d run scared.
He rubbed a calamine-soaked cotton ball over her rash to ease the itch. “What else?”
“Each time I woke up, the rash and horrible itching had spread. Then this morning my shins and ankles were covered in these gigantic red sores. And outlandish itching. Like, the intense, relentless kind that could seriously drive a person insane.”
He chuckled. “Welcome to southern Illinois, Chloe.”
She smacked his arm, then eyed the room where Ivan was napping. “Is this contagious? Should we reschedule? I hate to share my ‘goodies’ with you or Ivan. Well, Ivan,” she smirked, “since you won’t let me scratch.”
Chance laughed and stood. “I’ve never reacted to poison ivy, but there’s always a first. It shouldn’t be contagious.”
He handed her the phone. “Call Mandy. She and Nolan are on speed dial three. Have her phone you in a script at the local drugstore, and I’ll go pick it up.”
Her eyes brightened. It stole his breath when she looked at him like her hero. “Will it stop the itching?”
“You bet. And you should be fine to do Dad’s therapy, if you can keep from scratching.”
“Well, to keep from scratching I need to keep from itching. I have zero self-control when it comes to not scratching itches. Will the rash spread if I accidentally scratch?” Her fingers inched toward her knees.
His hand covered hers. He didn’t want to release it. He hated that she suffered from poison ivy but loved that the wicked itch gave him a worthy excuse to hold her hand. “Probably not, but you could get a secondary infection.”
She clicked her tongue. “This is all your fault, you know. You and that rabid beaver.”
“He’s not rabid. That shriek you let out scared him.”
“Well, I didn’t expect him to get so close. Beavers can be mean, you know.” Her other hand snaked down to her ankle.
His free hand covered hers, halting it. “Beavers? Nothing like the coon you tried to approach.” He winked.
“But it was cute.” She rubbed her ankles together and flopped her feet on the floor. Chance tried not to laugh.
“Next to badgers and possums when they’re not playing dead, coons are the most vicious animals in that forest.”
“How can something that innocent looking be mean?”
“That’s what most people say about poison ivy after they’ve had a run-in with it.” Chuckling, Chance went to wake Ivan so Chloe could expedite her therapy.
When he came out of his room, Ivan’s head swerved left and right, and his eyes scoured to and fro. Then his countenance tanked. “Where’s the goofy mutt?”
“I left him home. Chance thinks he has urushiol oil on his hair.” Chloe pulled out the hand wheel machine.
“U-roo-what?” Ivan’s face squished.
Chance pointed to Chloe’s ankles. “Poison ivy.”
“Oh. Gotcha.” Ivan rubbed a hand over his chin. His affected hand, Chance noticed. Hoo-rah!
“Shall we get started?” Chloe faced Ivan.
“I reckon.” Ivan took on the scowl he always adopted before therapy. Only today’s seemed genuine. As though he really was disappointed not to get to see “the mutt.”
“You know, if you get your arms to the point of using a walker, then a cane, you could take Midnight for strolls.” Chloe secured his affected hand to the pedaled structure.
Her words sparked something in Ivan, because determination Chance hadn’t witnessed since the stroke suddenly flashed across his face. His eyes scanned the empty hook where Chloe always hung Midnight’s leash and walking harness. The wheel turned smoother and faster than before.
Chance slipped out, thankful even more for Chloe, her unconventional ways and handy-dandy assistant who’d obviously barked his way into Ivan’s joy-parched heart.
And gifted Chloe with poison ivy and given Chance a reason to hold her hand when she couldn’t resist itching.
“So, Dad, I’m getting the fishing boat from your garage this week. How about we go to Refuge Lake this weekend?” Chance asked when he returned with Chloe’s poison ivy meds.
“Are you nuts? I can’t do that. You’re a fool for thinking it.” Ivan’s scowl set firmly in place.
Chloe put Ivan’s chart away. “I saw your Web site, the one where you have your custom-built chess sets for sale.”
His face lit, then took a nose dive. “Oh, you did?”
“Yes. Mighty fine craftsmanship.”
“Too bad I can’t do it anymore.”
“I think you can. Keep up the good work and do your exercises, and you’ll be making chess sets again in no time.”
“Hmph. You’re as foolish as my son there. I’ll never be what I was. Not without my wife.”
Chloe’s expression grew thoughtful. She turned to Chance while Ivan stretched his isometric therapy band. “I noticed fishing photos of you.” For some odd reason her cheeks tinged and she scratched the side of her neck.
Chance eyed there, prepared to pull her hand down if he saw blisters, but her skin was silky and a
labaster and so soft looking he wished he could brush fingers along it.
Chance cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah? Why?”
“Mom and I used to fish all the time. We’ve heard there are huge bass and catfish in these parts.” Her eyes gave off several enormous blinks, waiting for him to get the hint.
Chance grinned. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Chloe Callett, I’d think you were asking me out on a date.”
Ivan must’ve been eavesdropping because he snorted.
She pinked. “Not a date. A fishing excursion. With Mom.”
Chance displayed his lopsided grin. “Whatever works. As long as I get to stare into your lovely eyes and listen to your beautiful laugh, I’m there.”
He thought her laugh was beautiful and eyes lovely? Maybe he was just being nice or joking. Chloe studied him. His smile never faded nor did the intent look of tenderness.
A knot formed in her stomach, then moved to her chest and throat. Chance had made no secret of the fact that he was on the hunt for a wife. He wasn’t the type to date someone he wouldn’t consider marrying. Should she date him?
While they were far from serious, definite interest did exist. But the last thing she could give Chance Garrison was forever or even a hint of the promise of it.
Not with her. They had different dreams, different priorities.
She put her hand on his arm and felt like she could cry. She urged him into the kitchen and away from Ivan’s miracle hearing aids. “Chance, I’d love to go fishing with you…as friends.”
Instead of acting wounded, he flashed his trademark lopsided grin again. “That’s all you can muster for now?”
“That’s all I can muster…forever.”
His face grew neutral while he studied her intently and for so long she couldn’t stand it.
Since she had grown up under the punishment of silent treatments from her dad, silence made her anxious. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
He took methodical steps closer. Trailed a finger along her neck and tilted her chin up. There was absolutely nothing shy about the way he looked at her. “Chloe, don’t ask me that question unless you really want to know the answer.” Fierce warning flashed in his tender eyes as they dropped to her mouth and appeared to outline her lips.
