Prescriptions and Promises

by Jessica Matthews

  He grinned. ‘I’ll even share my personal stats. Height, weight, shoe size, whatever.’

  ‘If you think I’m going to tell you mine, you’d better think twice.’

  ‘Ah, but you’d have to lose first, wouldn’t you?’ he said smugly.

  ‘True, but I won’t.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Then you don’t have anything to worry about.’

  Somehow, she felt as if she’d been hustled. ‘So why play? We could just toss a coin.’

  ‘You don’t want to experience the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat?’

  If he only knew. ‘I just think we can compete without the question-and-answer period tied to the outcome.’

  ‘Yeah, but when I get together with the guys, the losers always buy a beer at the pool hall.’

  ‘I don’t mind if you buy me a beer. I’m also not horrified at the prospect of going into a pool hall.’

  He shook his head. ‘Sorry. Different game, different stakes. Do we have a deal?’

  Carrie interrupted, her eyes owlish as she followed their conversation. ‘That’s what you want? To play a basketball game?’ She clearly thought the adults had lost their minds.

  ‘That’s what I want,’ he told her.

  ‘Jenny’s going to cream you,’ Carrie warned him. ‘My mom says nobody at home wants to play against her any more ’cause she beats the socks off everybody.’

  His eyes lit up. ‘Is that like strip poker?’

  Jenny shot him a look of disgust. Then, involuntarily, the mental picture he’d painted formed and an anticipatory shiver ran down her spine.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ she said firmly, forcing the image out of her mind. ‘It was a figure of speech.’

  Noah grinned. ‘You’re fun to tease, Ms Ruscoe. To answer your question, Carrie, yes, I want to challenge Jenny to a basketball game.’

  Carrie shook her head slowly as she spoke. ‘You don’t know what you’re in for.’

  Jenny plunged ahead, eager to win one for her uncle. ‘It’s a deal. When do you want to play? Tomorrow?’

  ‘What’s wrong with right now?’

  ‘Now?’ She stared at him in stunned surprise.

  ‘Sure, why not? It’s still early. Barely nine.’

  Better to meet his demand now, rather than stew about it for a few days. ‘OK,’ she said, her adrenalin rising at the challenge.

  ‘Where are you going to play?’ Carrie asked.

  Jenny glanced at Noah. ‘Our driveway?’

  ‘Perfect. It’s like my home court,’ he assured her as he turned down River’s End Drive and parked in front of the two-story house that had served as home to three generations of Ruscoes. ‘Earl and I spent a lot of hours together here.’

  Darn, she thought, opening her door to jump out. He probably knew every crack in the concrete better than she did.

  ‘Bugs and I can referee and keep score,’ Carrie offered as Noah helped her and her rabbit out of the back seat.

  ‘Wonderful idea,’ Noah answered as he rummaged through his gear and freed a pair of relatively new Nikes from his duffle bag. ‘We need someone unbiased to settle any disputes.’

  Carrie flashed him a grin, before hurrying toward Bugs’s hutch. They had placed it between the house and the detached garage for maximum shade and protection from the near-constant wind.

  ‘I’m not sure how unbiased she’s going to be,’ Jenny muttered, aware of how Carrie had blossomed under Noah’s attention. After the death of Susan’s husband, males had been in short supply in their household.

  Noah walked alongside Jenny up the driveway, with his shoes tied together by the laces and slung over one shoulder. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘She likes you,’ she said simply.

  His smile stretched from ear to ear. ‘I think she’s pretty neat myself. Don’t worry, though. I’m sure Bugs will keep her from making too many prejudiced calls.’

  She laughed at the idea. ‘How reassuring.’

  It took about ten minutes for Jenny to exchange her T-shirt and dilapidated tennis shoes for a white Colorado University tank top and a pair of running shoes. As she came outside, she caught Noah in the middle of his warm-up exercises.

  ‘Where’s Carrie?’ she asked, doing a few stretches of her own.

  ‘Looking for a whistle,’ he answered.

  As the sun edged toward the western horizon, she guessed they had about forty-five minutes of daylight left. Shadows shrouded parts of the driveway, so she flicked on the light over the back door and lit several potted citronella candles to ward off mosquitoes.

  Moments later, Carrie arrived on the scene, testing her whistle with short, shrill bursts. ‘It works,’ she said cheerfully.

  Jenny exchanged amused glances with Noah, wincing as Carrie once again demonstrated the whistle’s ability. ‘Yeah, well, use it sparingly. I’d hate to have the neighbors complain about us disturbing the peace.’

  ‘OK. I’ll be careful.’ Carrie slipped the cord over her head and looked at each of them expectantly. ‘Are you guys ready?’

  ‘I think so,’ Jenny declared.

  ‘The usual boundaries?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine.’ The driveway butted against the house on the right and an eight-foot-high wooden fence on the left. The backboard was bolted above the garage door and the concrete slab ran all the way to the sidewalk. The enclosed area contained most of the stray balls, but if one of the buildings or the fence were hit, possession went to the other person.

  Carrie tossed the ball in the air and hurried out of the way to stand by Bugs’s hutch. Noah’s long arms snagged the basketball as it made its descent, but by the time he’d dribbled half-court Jenny had stolen it and sent it arching toward the hoop.

  Swish. ‘One for me,’ she crowed.

  ‘Lucky shot.’ Noah brought the ball in from out of bounds. Once again, she wiggled in close and stole the ball. Before he could recover, she scored another basket.

  ‘Two for me,’ she said gleefully.

  He stopped and held the ball under one arm. ‘Are you sure she’s not cheating, Carrie?’

  Carrie clapped her hands and giggled. ‘I told you she was good.’

  It didn’t take Jenny long to score two more points. The key, she’d discovered, was to work her way inside and watch for the split second when she could snatch the ball away from him.

  He called time out. ‘Want to go for ten points instead of five?’

  Jenny grinned, her skin heated from the exertion. ‘Not a chance.’

  Carrie signaled the end of their break. As soon as Noah entered the court Jenny tried another steal maneuver, but failed. The ball bounced toward the sidewalk and they both ran after it. Forgetting the location of the crack and the uneven patch of concrete, Jenny stumbled. Her feet tangled with Noah’s and she lost her balance.

  She reached out instinctively and the next thing she knew she was safe in his embrace, pressed against his chest as he supported her weight. In that split second, she noticed a great many things.

  His skin was warm and covered in a faint sheen of perspiration. His heart beat steadily under her hand, his breathing slightly labored.

  Every time he exhaled, a whisper of air laced with chocolate flowed across her cheek. The fresh scent of the outdoors clung to him in a not unpleasant manner and mingled with his woodsy fragrance to create a provocative all-male aroma.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked, his hold on her firm.

  She raised her chin to meet his gaze. His mouth hovered over hers by a few inches and was far too enticing for her peace of mind.

  ‘Yeah.’ The word came out in a whisper and she cleared her throat. ‘I tripped.’

  ‘Tricky spot,’ he said, his attention focused on her lower lip.

  ‘I should have remembered where it was,’ she said, aware of how breathless she sounded.

  ‘All’s well that ends well,’ he said.

  Suddenly aware of his hands splayed across her back, the lack of air space betw
een their bodies and the curiosity of an eleven-year-old bystander, Jenny pushed on his chest, vividly conscious of his pectoral muscles rippling underneath her palms as he set her on her feet.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘All’s well that ends well. Thanks.’

  He held her until she regained her footing, then let go with seeming reluctance. ‘Any time.’

  ‘It’s Jenny’s ball,’ Carrie declared from the sidelines.

  ‘My ball,’ Jenny agreed. Her legs wouldn’t respond to her intention to fetch the item in question from where it had rolled into the street.

  Noah jogged over to its stopping point by the curb. ‘Ready?’ he asked, before tossing it to her.

  Forcing herself to refocus as she caught the ball with both hands, she drew confidence from the feel of the familiar dimpled leather surface against her fingertips. One more basket; she only needed to sink one more basket. Then she could forget the whole episode.

  Or at least, she could try to do so. It wouldn’t be easy.

  ‘Yeah. Sure,’ she said. ‘I’m ready.’

  But as soon as she crossed the line and he stood his ground to block her with outstretched arms, her concentration vanished. The sight of his hands replayed the sensation of having them rest on her back. Her momentary lapse slowed her reflexes just enough for him to steal the ball and dart out of reach.

  His long legs carried him toward the hoop for an easy lay-up. ‘At last! I’m on the scoreboard,’ he said with satisfaction.

  ‘Only because I felt sorry for you,’ she said to goad him.

  ‘You felt sorry for me?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, compelled to continue her fib. It wouldn’t do for him to realize that being pressed against him for those few seconds had dramatically shortened her attention span. Without a doubt, his flawless form rivaled a personal trainer’s.

  ‘For being so…so…’ she thought quickly ‘…out of shape.’

  In a split second, his attitude changed. His eyes gleamed with a competitiveness she hadn’t seen before now. In a split second, it occurred to her that while he’d been playing well, he’d held part of himself back and he wouldn’t continue to any longer.

  His smile curved slowly until it revealed perfectly straight teeth. ‘Out of shape, hmm? We’ll see who’s out of shape.’ He leaned closer to murmur in her ear. ‘For the record, I think yours is perfect.’

  His comment totally threw her off stride. The game began again and he dogged her every step without mercy. Yet, in spite of his determination, he didn’t employ the same rough tactics men often used on each other.

  He didn’t have to. As he guarded her with both arms outstretched, he lightly brushed any bare patch of skin within reach. Each touch, seemingly inadvertent, sent her hormones into overdrive and she fumbled the ball like a novice.

  ‘Foul!’ she called out when the score had tied at four to four and her nerves couldn’t take the strain any longer. If he didn’t stop, she was going to puddle on the concrete at his feet. Already, her temperature had skyrocketed to a feverish high and she was glad it had become too dark for anyone to see her flushed face. The muscles in her legs ached from the demands she’d placed on them and each breath sounded like an asthmatic wheeze. She hadn’t played this intensely for a long time.

  ‘It was not,’ he protested, the glimmer of a smile showing in his eyes as if he had known how she’d respond and planned his attack accordingly.

  ‘Hey, ref?’ Jenny appealed to Carrie. ‘It’s a foul if the opposing player makes physical contact.’

  ‘I was chasing away mosquitoes,’ he explained, looking as innocent as he sounded.’

  ‘I didn’t feel any mosquitoes,’ she answered.

  ‘Because I chased them away before they could bite.’

  ‘Likely story,’ Jenny grumbled.

  Carrie gave up her perch by the hutch to approach them. ‘Did he hit you or trip you?’

  ‘No,’ Jenny admitted.

  ‘Then it’s OK.’ She blew her whistle as she returned to her viewing position. ‘Besides, I can’t call a foul if I didn’t see it. Play ball.’

  ‘You’ve created a monster,’ Jenny accused as she dribbled the ball with her right hand, her left arm in front of her for protection. ‘A tyrant.’

  He grinned. ‘You can appeal to the other authority.’

  She scoffed. ‘Yeah, right. Like Bugs is going to stick his furry little neck out. He knows where his next meal is coming from.’ Seeing an opening, she darted past him in a fast break for the hoop. Just as she was ready to shoot, Noah grabbed her from behind. With a brawny arm across her midriff, he turned her until she faced the dimly lit street.

  Before she could protest, he snagged the ball, pivoted and scored his final point.

  ‘Five to four!’ Carrie called out. ‘Noah won.’

  ‘He cheated,’ Jenny declared, her body on fire from his intimate hold underneath her breasts. ‘You can’t pick up another player and move them so you can steal the ball.’

  Carrie stared at her. ‘You weren’t hurt, were you?’

  ‘Well, no.’

  The youngster shrugged. ‘When I play with my mom, she does that, too, so it must be OK. Now, if you were hurt, that’s a diff’rent story.’

  Unfortunately, Jenny was hurting, but in places she couldn’t discuss with a child, much less the man who’d caused her such discomfort.

  ‘I demand a rematch,’ Jenny insisted. She didn’t intend to let Noah Kimball beat her at her own sport.

  Noah stood quietly in the shadows, watching the exchange with the ball tucked under his left arm. ‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ he told her, pleased at the prospect of another go-round. ‘Name the time and place.’

  ‘Tomorrow. Here. Eight o’clock.’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he said, amused to see her so flustered over her loss. Then again, he loved to see her with her hair all messed, her skin flushed and gleaming with a faint sheen. Whoever had originally coined the saying, ‘Men sweat, women glisten,’ had certainly had a way with words.

  The picture she made—her breasts heaving with every breath—was marked in his memory, as was the sensation of her lithe body pressed against his. When he’d challenged her to a hoop-shooting contest, he hadn’t expected it to become such an exhilarating experience. He’d need a cold shower before he’d fall asleep tonight.

  ‘I’m going to teach Carrie the proper rules of the game before then,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know. I like her rules.’ He found Jenny’s discomfiture quite satisfying. He didn’t feel particularly guilty over his unorthodox move, because Jenny was a formidable opponent and he’d wanted to win at any cost. Defeating her on the court was a way to get his answers.

  ‘So, do you still think I’m out of shape?’

  She grinned. ‘No.’ Suddenly a troubled look crossed her face. ‘Go ahead. Fire away.’

  Her stiff movements spoke of her dread. Clearly, she considered certain subjects taboo but, to give her credit, she hadn’t limited the topics. Guessing her fear was rooted in her former job, his gut told him to tread carefully. If he dug too deep right away, he wouldn’t go far with his question-answer period. He was too intrigued by Earl’s niece to let impatience ruin everything.

  ‘Are you that anxious to get rid of me?’ he countered.

  Once again, her skin color darkened under the glow of the overhead bulb.

  ‘Before we get to that,’ he continued smoothly, ‘can you spare the winner a glass of water?’

  ‘Of course. Come on in. Where there aren’t any mosquitoes.’

  He hid his smile at her pointed remark, recognizing her warning to keep his hands to himself. Not that he wouldn’t with a chaperone present. He waited while Carrie crooned her goodnights to Bugs and Jenny blew out the flickering candles. Once inside, Jenny surprised him by sending Carrie to her bath.

  She really was worried about something.

  Noah leaned against the counter and watched Jenny wash her hands a
nd fill two plastic tumblers with ice, then water. ‘Earl always bragged on how good a ball handler you are,’ he said. ‘He wasn’t wrong. I had to work harder than I thought I’d have to.’

  She handed him a drink, then gestured toward the chairs surrounding the round kitchen table. ‘That’s some consolation, I suppose. You’re very good, yourself. Did you play in college?’

  He straddled a chair, then drank deeply until he’d drained the glass. ‘I’ll tell you tomorrow. If you win.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you hustling me? You know, I can ask questions around town and find out everything I want to know.’

  ‘Yes, but then you’d have to explain your sudden interest in my life,’ he said, familiar with the workings of the town’s gossip mill. ‘As for myself, I’d rather get my answers straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.’

  ‘You’ve made your point.’ She met his gaze without flinching. ‘What’s your question?’

  He wanted to lose himself in her blue-gray eyes. Easy does it, he cautioned himself. ‘Tell me about your summers here in Springwater.’

  She sipped her water before she leaned back, running a finger around the edge of a worn spot on the forty-year-old table’s gray Formica surface.

  ‘My father was more mechanically minded than my uncle and grandfather, so he became an automotive repairman. I was three when there was an accident in the garage where he worked and he was killed. Since my mom didn’t want me to grow up not knowing my dad’s side of the family, she let me visit my uncle during the summers. The first time I stayed for several weeks I was Carrie’s age.’

  ‘It must have been frightening,’ he said, thinking of Eunice’s temperament.

  ‘It was, but Uncle Earl took me under his wing. When I wasn’t with him, I hung around my friend Mary Beth. I hardly ever saw Aunt Eunice except at mealtimes.’

  ‘What did your mother do while you were gone?’

  ‘My mom had become a teacher when I was little because her job as a store clerk didn’t pay enough to support us. During the summers, she took classes to keep her certification current, so she was glad I had something to do while she studied. It really rankled Eunice because people spoke highly of my mom for becoming self-sufficient.’