Whichever emotion won the evening, morning came surely enough. I was awake and ready long before the sun peeked over the horizon. Gray haze still clung to the countryside as I walked down the dirt road to Charlie’s house. A basket swung by my side, loaded with a trowel and a steak knife: the two best tools any gardener could ask for.
I let myself into the field, trying not to spend too much time staring at the house as I set about my work. This part was easy enough. I knew I would be physically tired by the end of the day, but my mind would be wonderfully clear. That’s the beauty of working the earth.
I dug each dandelion up, careful to leave some root so the plants would regenerate. Those still sporting clocks I left alone. Maybe Cara could come out later and help me spread the seeds from them. If Charlie didn’t mind me reneging on my promise to plant grass seed, that is.
By the time Charlie wandered out to the field to offer me a cup of coffee, my basket was overflowing with dandelions. I hadn’t even made a dent in the crop.
“Did you sleep well?” I wrapped my arms nervously around myself as I struggled to sound natural.
“Are you chilly?” His brow creased with concern.
“I guess a little,” I lied. Truthfully, I was just unsure what to do with my hands since Charlie was carrying my basket full of dandelions.
“Here…,” Before I could process what he was doing, he’d slid his robe off and was draping it over my shoulders.
“You don’t have to do that,” I protested, secretly relishing the scent and the warmth that clung to the garment. I’d actually been pretty warm already from the work I’d put in, but the robe offered a different kind of heat. It felt like him.
“Can’t a guy be a gentleman anymore?” he teased.
“Thank you,” I acknowledged. Now I had the added bonus of watching him walk across his lawn in nothing but pajama bottoms. He was built better than any small town lawyer had a right to be. I bit my lip and admonished myself for having such a one-track mind. Oh, but the man was fine. Had I really thought him average just a few days ago?
“I didn’t sleep well, by the way,” he went back to my original question.
“I’m sorry,” I frowned with concern.
“I never sleep well when Cara’s gone,” he explained. I thought maybe he had something else to add, but he apparently decided against it.
“How long will she be with her grandparents?” I resisted the urge to lay my hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.
“A whole week. It’s stretching out in front of me like a year right now.”
“Well, I can certainly keep you busy,” I offered, then quickly added. “With the dandelions, I mean. Of course. What else would I keep you busy with? I mean, you’d be surprised what you can do with a dandelion.”
A smile tugged the corner of his mouth, but to his credit he kept walking. “I have to say I’ve never found dandelions more fascinating.”
“You just might be sick of them by the end of the day,” I warned. It was probably best to just pretend I hadn’t just accidentally propositioned him with dandelions.
To that end, while he poured us each a cup of coffee, I set about making a list of the supplies I would need with a Crayola and a napkin.
While I poured sugar in my coffee, he studied the list thoughtfully. “You know, I think I have all of this around here somewhere.”
“I was hoping so.”
“Just let me get enough caffeine in my system to be coherent then I’ll see what I can round up for you.”
“Fair enough,” I smiled a little at him. I felt like a fool for doing it, but I couldn’t seem to control my mouth muscles. “I hear I’ll have some company today.”
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t just leave you alone here all day. You could be a convicted felon that would make off with the family silver or something,” he winked at me. I barely noticed; I was too busy trying to bat down the panic that had risen in my throat.
“I solemnly swear not to make off with the silver while you’re getting dressed,” I finally managed weakly. “And I can promise I’ve never been convicted of larceny.”
“Good to know,” the look in his eyes said he wanted to know what I had been convicted of.
“You’re much nicer to me now than you were Saturday,” I knew I should leave well enough alone, but I wanted to know what had changed his mind.
“Would you prefer I go back to being curt?”
“No, no. I like this mood much better. Just making an observation.”
“To be honest, I’m still trying to decide what to make of you.”
“That’s okay. I’m still trying to decide what to do to you. With you. Aw hell,” I shook my head and rolled my eyes at myself. I was determined to stick my foot in my mouth today.
“Keep talking like that and we won’t get to the dandelions,” he warned.
“Dandelions. Yes. The dandelions. If you could tell me where some of this stuff is, I can start cleaning them while you get dressed. I mean, if you want to get dressed. Not that you have to, because you look great in your pajamas. I mean… dang it…. Sorry. I guess I haven’t talked to a man in a while. I haven’t talked to much of anyone in a while.”
“Hard time can be like that…”
“Excuse me?” I think I forgot to breathe.
“Prison… sorry, bad joke. Now I’m the one that has to admit I haven’t talked to a woman over the age of six recently. Well, except Anjelita and she doesn’t count.”
“No, it’s okay. We’ll just stammer through the day together,” I’m pretty sure I smiled at him. Feebly, maybe, but it was meant to be reassuring.
“So, should I change or not?” he teased.
“Just point me in the direction of my supplies and you can strip naked and streak through the town square for all I care,” I tried to sound indifferent. Truth was—if he did that, I’d probably be on the front porch watching. That thought made me giggle. There was something very normal about being in lust. I liked that. Maybe it meant there was hope for me yet.
“Na, you’d enjoy that too much. You’d never get your dandelions… well, whatever you’re going to do to them.” He playfully tapped my nose. I startled like a deer, causing him to apologize, then me to apologize.
If for no other reason than to break the awkwardness we kept stumbling onto, he rounded up the pans and buckets I’d requested, then went to change while I began the process of separating the dandelions into three parts. He returned in a gray t-shirt and jeans, ready to help clean dandelions.
I showed him how to cut the flowers so no green wound up in the mix, and where to cut the roots. After we’d finished separating, I washed the florets and put them on to boil before turning my attention to the roots. While I washed and chopped roots, Charlie followed my instructions to set out the supplies we’d need to finish the flowers. He watched with fascination as I put the dandelion roots on to roast.
“You have to tell me what we’re making,” he implored as he handed me the coffee filter I’d requested.
“It’s more fun to make you wonder,” I shook my head and carefully strained the water with the yellow flowers. “Can you hand me that sugar?”
He did as I requested, watching intently as I mixed the ingredients together and began pouring the mixture into canning jars.
“When this cools, you can have your very first taste of dandelion jelly,” I nodded at the jars as I got the dandelion roots out of the oven.
“Dandelion jelly?”
“Sure. It tastes a little like honey. It’s very good for you. So’s the coffee.”
“Coffee?”
“It’s what we’re making with the roots. It makes a very good decaffeinated coffee,” I assured him.
“And you plan to sell this?”
“Oh ye of little faith. Yes, I plan to sell it. There’s always a market for herbal remedies that don’t taste like medicine. Package it pretty and it’ll sell.”
“I think I believe you,” he still seemed
unsure. “But what about the greens?”
“Those’ll be turning up in my cooking.”
“Huh.”
“What? It’s better for you than spinach and cheaper, too.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t sound so convinced. I think the roots are cool enough to grind if you want to put them in that food processor. You know, there are other things we could do with these. I just thought this was a good place to start.”
“I never knew.”
“Most people don’t,” I shrugged. “Would you like me to brew you a cup of dandelion coffee?”
“Sure. Why not?”
When we’d processed all of the dandelions I’d brought in that morning, we stopped for lunch then went back out to his field to harvest more. I showed him how to use the steak knife to cut the roots and which ones to leave behind.
By early evening, my back was screaming from the long day, but I was flushed with the joy of having spent a day laughing. I didn’t want it to end, so maybe I was a tad too eager to agree when he asked if I’d go to dinner with him at the diner on the town square.
“Just don’t strip naked and go streaking,” I cautioned after calling Anjelita to tell her not to hold dinner for me.
“But it was your idea,” he pouted.
“But now I’ll be with you. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Ah,” he feigned serious contrition. “Then I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Chapter Six
I’m not sure who was more embarrassed when the brassy blonde stood hand on hip in front of our table glaring at me. Charlie had introduced us; I’d offered a handshake. She’d ignored it and had been staring at me ever since.
Elena was the sheriff’s daughter and I got the distinct impression she thought Charlie belonged to her.
“So, are the two of you dating?”
“Only if I can convince Neena to give me a chance,” Charlie met my eyes in a way that made my stomach flutter.
“That doesn’t make any sense. She’s been in town for two minutes, Charlie,” the blonde protested.
“Elena, sometimes the heart just knows what it wants,” he shrugged and smiled. “Now you have a good evening and tell your daddy I said hey.”
She frowned prettily at Charlie, gave me a final glare, and sashayed out of the little diner. Any hope I had of going unnoticed in this town went out the door with her.
“Bravo,” I flashed him a smile while trying to settle my heart back into a steady rhythm. “That was a very stirring performance.”
“Sure.…”
What did that tone mean? Sure you’re crazy, or sure it wasn’t a performance? How could one word be so loaded? I spent the rest of my meal trying to decipher the tone of his sure. When we were back in the car, he asked if I wanted to go to his place for a cup of dandelion coffee. He seemed to be as reluctant to be alone as I was to leave his company.
“It’s decaffeinated,” he informed me imploringly.
I’ve never done drugs, not once, but I was beginning to think that being near him was like an addiction to drugs. And I don’t mean nicotine… I mean the hard stuff. The junk you know you shouldn’t do, but can’t seem to steer clear of. Every rational thought in my head was screaming to go back to the Angelita’s.
“Oh, well then… how could I not?” The completely irrational addict in me replied.
Any butterflies in my stomach scattered when he took my hand and led me up the walk. They were replaced by molten lava. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. It didn’t help. Now his scent had a firmer grip on my senses. Something about the whole thing woke up a different kind of completely instinctual animal; one I didn’t even realize I had lurking inside of me.
The door clicked behind us and we leapt at each other. He pulled me into his arms as I hungrily buried my fingers in his soft golden hair.
I had been kissed by a clumsy teenage boy before. I’d been punished by the angry touch of a beast. I’d never been branded by the kiss of a starving man. Not like this. It was dizzying. The emotions were so overwhelming it made me want to cry. I couldn’t get close enough to him and he couldn’t seem to get enough of me. His hands were everywhere. We found our way to the stairs but we didn’t make it up them.
I didn’t feel the steps pressing into my back as his mouth roamed my throat. But when his hands trailed up my arms to cup my neck, the other completely instinctual animal in me panicked. Warning bells sounded in my brain. Hands that had sought him now clawed and shoved him from me.
He pulled away, cursing up a storm until he saw the look in my eyes. The stark terror coursing through my veins must have shown, because his expression instantly softened.
What scared me most at that moment was the knowledge that if there’d been a tire iron within my grasp, I would have hurt him. Really hurt him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I scrambled to my feet.
“Neena,” he made a grab for my hand that I eluded.
“I have to go. I’m sorry,” I refused to look him in the eye.
“If I did something…,” he sounded so tortured at that moment it stopped me in my tracks.
“You are the gentlest… the most decent man I’ve met in many years. It’s me. I had no business even toying with the idea… let alone ending up on your steps. I’m so sorry,” I took his hand in mine and kissed his knuckles. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Don’t go,” his grip tightened when I turned to leave. “Stay for a while.”
“No,” I shook my head and stared intently at my feet. “I need to go. I’ll be back in the morning. If that’s okay, I mean.”
“I’ll make us some breakfast,” he promised, pulling me to him for a gentle kiss.
“That sounds nice,” I nodded, slipping out the door before he could convince me to stay.
His presence was wreaking havoc on my simple plan: don’t go back to jail. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to make decisions about if I should ever try to have a real life again. I’d kind of figured certain doors were closed to me the instant metal met Todd Winslow’s skull. My reaction tonight certainly proved that point for me.
What kind of woman went into kill mode the second a man put his hands on her throat, no matter how tenderly?
The same kind of woman who could abandon a friend who’d kept her alive for a decade.
The kind of woman who could keep her existence hidden from her own daughter.
The reality of who I was washed over me like a frigid tidal wave. Some wrongs I couldn’t right. Some I could certainly try. By the time I reached the Torres house, I knew I had to do whatever I could to help Mary O’Donnell, even if I didn’t have the slightest clue where to start.
That didn’t get me any closer to a solution where Charlie was concerned. Maybe there was no solution there. Maybe I was just supposed to walk away.
But everything in me cried out at the thought of ignoring the way he made me feel. He made me remember that at one time in my life, I had been more than a wild animal fighting to take its next breath. I had been a young woman, fully alive and full of dreams.
“How did it go today?” Anjelita met me at the door, her eyes filled with expectant hope.
“Well. It went really well,” I answered honestly. My monotone voice set off Anjelita’s trouble radar. I ignored the question in her eyes and turned my attention to Isabel. “Hey midget. How was your day?”
“Good,” she shrugged. It had obviously been summer long enough for the days of nothingness to have lost their appeal. “How’s Mr. Charlie?”
“Good,” I tried to match her nonchalant shrug. “He misses Cara.”
“Me too,” Isabel sighed that time.
“She’ll be home before you know it,” I patted her shoulder. It sounded lame even to me and her skeptical look said as much. “Alright, I know. It stinks.”
She smiled at that. “Goodnight, Miss Neena.”
“Goodnight sweetie.”
While Anjelita tucked Isabel into
bed, I puttered around the house, trying to clear my mind as much as the clutter in the house.
It had been a lot of years since I’d allowed myself the luxury of thinking about my own little girl. Most days, I tried to pretend she didn’t exist. It wasn’t because she was the product of the attack in the woods. At first I’d thought I could never love the child because of its origins. But then I’d held her in my arms and I knew… she wasn’t his. She was mine.
Then they took her from my arms and I hadn’t seen her again.
I let out an expletive that would’ve earned reproach from Angelita if she’d heard it and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Darkness and confusion were settling in and no amount of cleaning was going to chase them away.
Truth was, the only thing I’d found in ten years that could chase the darkness away was Charlie. And that was the hold he had on me. That was why I stayed in this town when I should move on, and why I’d go to his house again in the morning when I should run the other way.
Sleep eluded me for most of the night. The snippets I did catch were filled with vague pictures. Mary’s green eyes beseeching me. Black eyes that mirrored my own, wondering who her parents really were. Todd’s ice blue eyes mocking me, telling me he’d won after all. And then there were the fences. Always the fences. Keeping me in, keeping the world out. Miles and miles of them.
I awoke with a start when I fell off the couch.
Isabel’s bright eyes were fixed keenly on me. “Who’s Gabrielle?”
“She’s only a dream honey. Just a dream,” I couldn’t quite keep the sorrow from my voice or from tingeing the smile I gave her. “Did I really sleep so late?”
“Yeah. Mommy and Daddy are already at work. They said to let you rest. You know you talk a lot in your sleep?”
“I do?”
“Yeah. Mostly about Gabrielle. And Mary… and someone named Conrad. Who’s Conrad?”
“My brother,” I answered distractedly. The mention of his name had set the wheels in my head to turning. I would call him. It was a risk, but one I’d have to take. Surely as my brother, he could check in on my former cell mate without arousing suspicions, right?
Jailbird Page 4
