"You know, Mom, cryonics is—"
"Joey, not now. I believe I've had enough science for the night." Leah hoisted her son to his feet while Ned nabbed Shane to go over to his house.
She watched the two men leave, Ned practically dragging Shane behind him. She fought a grin at the picture of them, and was amazed she could smile under the circumstances. Turning back to her son, she was about to say something when the ambulance pulled up with its lights flashing. There was already a crowd forming, but the sight of the ambulance was sure to bring anyone still in his house outside. This was not the way to be introduced to the townspeople, Leah thought as she started to walk over to the paramedics to tell them they weren't needed. Before Leah took a step, Shane's mother moved to the two paramedics and said something to them.
As the ambulance left, her grandfather rushed up to her youngest. "Way to go. Sam told me you actually were in the air for a minute." He gave Joey a high five, beaming from ear to ear.
"Gramps, I don't think we need to encourage him any more."
"Nonsense, girl. He'll have this figured out in no time. A chip off the old block, if I may say so myself." Her grandfather's chest puffed out as though what Joey had done was something to be proud of. Obviously plunging from a second story building was nothing to her grandfather.
"No, he won't figure it out Gramps. He will not try to fly again." The pounding in her head intensified as she pronounced each word slowly, to try and get both of them to understand.
"He'll be fine. I'll supervise."
"That's supposed to reassure me after what happened to you today?" She rubbed her temples, and again drew in deep breaths that weren't doing the trick. She wasn't calm. Her nerves had taken an extra beating today—two accidents in one day. Even for her family that was unusual.
"Harold, why don't you show me your lab while Leah gets Joey to bed? With all this excitement, I'm sure the boy needs his rest." Margaret placed her hand on Harold's arm, effectively turning his attention to her.
Leah could have kissed the woman in that moment, and would have if her grandfather hadn't ushered her away faster than she had seen him move in twenty years. She knew Gramps was in heaven showing an attractive woman around his lab.
"Mom, I'm not ready to go to bed. It's only eight o'clock. It's not even dark yet."
Leah grasped Joey's hand and started marching him toward the steps that led to the porch. "You're going to bed. If you're smart, which I know you are, you won't argue this point with me. I need the rest."
"But Sam helped me. Why does he get to stay up?"
"He did?" Halting at the front door, Leah glanced back at her eldest. "You, too?"
When Sam trudged up the steps, he stared at his feet, his chin resting on his chest. "I can't believe you allowed your little brother to do something like that. You have more sense than that."
"He told me I could try it after he did. Besides, Betsy was being a pain in the bu—"
"Samuel Franklin Taylor, don't use that language in my presence. I'll talk to you both tomorrow morning." Leah thrust open the door and pointed toward the stairs. "Now go up and get ready for bed."
The boys walked slowly into the house, their shoulders slumped. Sam's whispered words floated back to her, "She must really be mad. She used all three of my names."
"And after getting ready for bed, you two, get into bed and go to sleep. I'll be up to check on you when I'm calmer." Leah knew if she didn't spell out exactly what she wanted them to do they would do only what she said. Both of them could be quite literal when it suited them.
She listened to them moving around upstairs for a few minutes before she went back out on the porch to sit on the swing, thankful the crowd of neighbors had dispersed. Dusk settled into shadows of night while the summer air encased her in a heat that warmed her chilled body. What was she going to do with her children? It took all her energy lately to keep up with them. She hadn't even had time to set up her computer. She wasn't going to make her deadline if many more things distracted her.
Just at that moment, Shane appeared out of the shadows and sat down next to her on the swing. Scratch that. She wouldn't get her children's book to her publisher if too many more people distracted her, she thought as the heat of the night soared. She felt the man next to her, her every sense, every nerve, attuned to him. Shane O'Grady could definitely become a distraction if she didn't keep her distance, and she knew how to get rid of the man. It had worked quite well before.
"Joey is a genius. His IQ is one-hundred and sixty-five, and sometimes I wonder if it isn't higher." There. She had told him what he must have suspected. It always made the men who had shown any interest in her flee.
Shane lounged back. "That must make your life interesting."
She slanted a look at him. Her youngest son intimidated most adults. "That's an understatement."
He slid his arm along the back of the porch swing and settled himself into a comfortable position. "It's probably hard to keep a step ahead of him even at his young age."
"I'm lucky if I can keep a step behind him." Leah wished she could relax, but every alarm was sounding in her mind at Shane's nearness. His male scent permeated the heat-drenched night, making her acutely aware of the man beside her and the fact he was still beside her. "Of course, the worst problem is he doesn't relate to children. He likes to be around adults, and even that can be a problem at times. Most adults aren't comfortable around him."
"Yeah, that could be a problem, especially with the Neds of this world."
Leah had a sudden vision of Ned standing before Joey in his bathrobe and flip-flops, trying to have a conversation with the child. She could see the man running down the street like his silly teenage daughter, screaming the sky was falling. Leah laughed. "He takes some getting used to."
"Who? Ned or your son?"
"Actually, both."
"I'd better warn you now. Ned is our neighborhood snoop. His wife Madge is almost as bad. But Ned went so far as to take a correspondence course on how to be a detective about a year ago. Our lives on Willow Street haven't been the same since. Poor Betsy. I think she dresses the way she does to separate herself from her parents."
"Since you're here, I assume Betsy is okay."
"Popping her gum and trying to decide where to put another earring. The only bad thing that happened to her was that she swallowed her gum, which, knowing Betsy was probably a huge wad. She's lucky she didn't choke. Of course, that hasn't stopped her from continuing to chew several pieces at once."
"When I saw Betsy, I had my doubts about her babysitting my sons. I wish I had listened to my instincts and not gone to your mother's tonight."
His arm slipped farther along the back of the swing, his hand touching her shoulder. "I'm glad you didn't. We wouldn't be sitting here like this if you hadn't come over to my mother's."
The feel of his fingers seared through the thin material of her blouse. She felt branded, and couldn't understand her reaction to a mere touch.
"It's not often I get this much excitement in one evening. If you haven't already noticed, Shady Oaks is a quiet town."
"That's one of the reasons I picked Shady Oaks to live in. Quiet is good." Quiet could be heaven, she thought, realizing how very little of that she had had in her life.
"As mayor, I'm glad not too much has happened to require my time. I didn't want the job, but no one else would run against Ned last spring. It's a thankless job, one better suited to a mediator. All I've had to do is arbitrate squabbles."
Leah closed her eyes and relished the rare quiet of the evening and the caressing motion of his hand as he drew lazy circles on her upper arm and talked about some of the more interesting fights he had settled. Not surprisingly, Ned and Madge were at the center of at least half of them.
"When does the man have time to work?" Leah asked, her body relaxing completely, her head dropping back against Shane's arm.
"Ned is independently wealthy. He inherited some money a few years back from an
uncle, and has made our lives miserable ever since. Too much idle time on his hands."
Every muscle in her body seemed to liquefy. The warm night air wrapped her in a cocoon, and Shane's masculine voice lured her into a sense of peace. "He needs to get a hobby."
"He has one. Causing trouble in Shady Oaks."
Leah laughed and found she snuggling farther into the arc his arm formed along the back of the swing. She hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time. "I suspect his next hobby will be evicting the Taylors from Shady Oaks," she let slip out.
"Oh, he'll forget about the incident with Betsy. He'll find a new crusade tomorrow. In fact, when I left their house, Ned was already sitting in front of the TV and watching a rerun of Murder, She Wrote. No doubt picking up pointers."
Leah straightened, part of her hating to break the connection between them, part of her aware that she had better do so, and quickly. She was becoming much too comfortable plastered against his length with his arm around her. "It wouldn't surprise me if his new crusade involved one of us. We aren't a very conventional family."
"Do you think the Shiplocks are conventional? Heaven forbid, if they are. We're all in trouble if so."
Leah twisted around to look him in the eye. However, in the shadows she couldn't read his expression. "Why are you still here? You're supposed to have left right after I told you about Joey."
"Why?"
She sighed. "He's certifiably brilliant, and he's not shy about his abilities. Some people—I mean, some men, don't like a little boy with that kind of attitude."
"Maybe I'm not like most men."
Leah heard the challenge in his voice, but didn't dare rise to the bait. In the end Shane would flee like all the others. It might take longer, but she had no doubt about the outcome. She knew enough to cut her losses now, before she invested too much in Shane O'Grady.
She stood. "I'd better check on the boys to make sure they followed my orders. Goodnight."
He rose, too, towering over her, his black bag clutched in his hand. "Fine, Leah."
He didn't move, however, and Leah felt swamped by his male presence. He dominated the porch. She swallowed several times, waiting for something to happen, as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, her footing precarious, the drop hundreds of feet down. She wanted to edge away from him, but her legs wouldn't move.
He lifted his hand and touched her cheek—softly, like a warm whisper against her skin. "Sweet dreams."
As he left Leah remained transfixed, watching him stride away from her, still feeling the caress of his hand on her face. At the bottom of the steps he turned and added, "And keep that hound locked up. I like to read my newspaper before I use it for compost."
His words brought her out of her trance-like state. "Arnold does not like to be referred to as a hound. He is a thoroughbred among beagles. His papers are impeccable."
"I don't care what his papers look like. Just keep him away from mine." He waved, then jogged the distance to his house.
Leah sank down onto the swing, her legs weak, her heartbeat rapid. She suddenly felt as if the energy had been sucked out of the space around her. Oh, Dr. Shane O'Grady was a dangerous man. She could come to care for him, and that must not happen. She had to think of her family first.
* * *
Running her hand repeatedly through her short hair, Leah shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes only half open. The first rays of dawn made it possible for her to see without turning on a light, even though it was only five-thirty in the morning. An ungodly hour, she thought as she plugged in the coffeepot and then went back to the dining room to check out front.
She raised the binoculars she had gotten out of a packing box the night before and scanned the street. The newspaper boy hadn't delivered yet. With a sigh of relief, she headed back into the kitchen to take up her vigil.
Arnold was not going to outsmart her and snatch Shane's newspaper. She propped herself up against the bay window that afforded her a view of the backyard with Arnold stretched out in front of his doghouse. She could also see the gate from her vantage point and the padlock she had bought to keep it locked.
Cupping her chin in her hand, she leaned against the sill and waited. She was sure Arnold would make his move soon if he were going after the newspaper. She had purposely kept the lights off in the kitchen. She didn't want her pet to suspect she was watching him. He might have flunked obedience school, but he wasn't a dumb dog.
As she stared outside, the smell of brewing coffee saturated the kitchen like fresh rain after a long drought. She yawned and blinked. After spending a restless night tossing and turning, perhaps she should let Arnold eat Shane's paper. After all, that man was the reason she hadn't slept much. The feel of his hand on her arm, on her face, had plagued her with sensual dreams, sending her active mind into overload.
She yawned again, her head dropping forward. She jerked upright "Okay, Leah, you can do this." She looked toward the coffeepot to see if the red light had come on, but the brew was still perking, the aroma teasing her with the promise of caffeine soon.
Her attention returned to the backyard. Again she rested her chin in the palm of her hand and stared at Arnold. Her eyelids felt as if they weighed a ton. After making sure her pet was still in front of his doghouse she closed her eyes, telling herself it would only be for a minute. Surely Arnold couldn't get out of the yard that quickly.
The next thing Leah felt was the warmth of the sun as it streamed into the kitchen. Her eyes popped open. All she saw was the side of the window. Her head was cradled in her crossed arms, which acted as a pillow on the sill. Her back ached from bending over in the chair.
Straightening slowly, she was afraid to look out into the backyard. Sure enough, Arnold was gone. She glanced at the gate, which was still closed and locked. Jumping to her feet, Leah raced for the front door. Maybe she could stop the hound from chewing the paper completely. If not maybe she could get to a store, buy one, and return before Shane realized what had happened. This situation might not be a total disaster.
Yanking open the front door, she ran outside, then skidded to a halt on the porch. The newspaper was still on Shane's lawn, and it looked perfectly all right. Leah frowned, wondering where Arnold was and what he was getting into now.
She didn't have to wonder long. The next thing she saw was Arnold flying from around behind Shane's house and dashing toward her yard. Right on the dog's heels was Shane, with his arm raised, his fist clenched.
As Arnold and Shane raced down the driveway toward the back of the house, Leah rushed to the end of the porch and bent over the railing to see what was happening. She leaned farther out to get a better view of the gate and the pair. She watched Arnold scramble up the chain-link fence and leap into the backyard, hardly breaking his stride. Shane vaulted over the fence, and at the same moment Leah pitched forward. She screamed as she landed in the holly bushes on the side of the house.
The pointy leaves dug into her skin as she blew out a mouthful of them. She half expected to hear Arnold barking or Shane yelling, but silence greeted her as she struggled to sit up, aching in places she had never ached before.
In front of her, bare feet planted themselves a foot apart. A hand reached down toward her. Slowly, because she was afraid to see the expression on Shane's face, she looked up past the jean cutoffs, past the white T-shirt. Concern etched deep lines in his features.
"Are you all right?" His gaze raked the length of her body.
Again she had been caught wearing something less than desirable when meeting a healthy, red-blooded male. She stretched her oversized T-shirt beyond its limits, fighting the urge to blush to the tips of her bare toes. She was going to have to get a better wardrobe to sleep in—maybe long-sleeved flannel nightgowns. Right now that thought had a lot of merit, even if it was summer.
She grasped his hand, and Shane yanked her to her feet "I think so," she murmured while adjusting her attire to cover her essentials.
"Good, because I have a f
ew things to say to you." All concern was wiped from his expression while a scowl descended.
Leah pulled a holly leaf out of her T-shirt, noting the scratches on her hand. She would have liked to escape into the house and lick her wounds, but he blocked her retreat with his large presence. "I know. Arnold got out, but your newspaper is fine."
"Well, Princess isn't"
"Who's Princess?"
"One of my dogs, and your hound had his way with her."
"What!"
"My purebred bichon frise will probably have a mixed litter in two months." He balled his hands at his sides. "She was to be bred tomorrow with a champion show dog. Tell me he"—Shane jerked his thumb toward the vicinity of Arnold, who was probably hiding somewhere in the backyard—"is neutered."
She winced. "Afraid not"
Shane's fists opened and then closed, his scowl strengthening.
"Maybe she didn't conceive."
"Yeah, and your hound is Prince Charming." He clenched his jaw. "If I find your dog ever sniffing around Princess again, I'll neuter him—for free."
She shifted, ready to plead Arnold's case, when pain streaked up her leg. She winced.
"You're not all right"
"It's nothing," she said, and started to step away from the holly bush, and from the man who had every right to be angry. But again pain radiated from her ankle, and she faltered. She clutched for something to steady herself and latched onto Shane's arm.
"Liar." Shane swept her up into his embrace. "Let me take a look at your ankle."
Nestled against his chest, Leah couldn't think of anything to say to his declaration. Her gaze was riveted to her T-shirt hiked up dangerously high. He followed the path her gaze took and shifted her so that she was decently covered, but not before he caught sight of the tops of her thighs and his dark eyes glittered.
Her heart responded by speeding up, and her pulse felt like pure, heated honey was flowing through her veins. This was much worse than the evening before, when all he had done was touch her cheek, her arm. This time she felt surrounded by him, almost as if she were a part of him. Oh, my, when this was over, she would have a few choice words with Arnold for placing her in such a tempting situation, and they were definitely going to visit the veterinarian to end his carousing days.
Love Gone to the Dogs Page 4
