Shane carried her up the porch steps and inside her house. He didn't release his hold on her until he put her gently on the couch. Kneeling, he took her right foot in his strong hands and began to feel for any breaks.
"I don't think you broke anything. You should have it X-rayed, however, to make sure. I think it's only a twist."
"I will if it doesn't get better soon."
"I'll get you a bag of ice to keep the swelling down."
While Shane went into the kitchen for the ice, Leah frantically tried to get herself under control. That was very important because she found little else she could control with a family like hers that pushed all the boundaries. She grabbed an afghan from the back of the couch and threw it over her legs, even though the temperature was already seventy degrees outside and climbing quickly.
No matter what she told herself, her skin felt branded where he had touched her, her pulse rate unusually fast. If he didn't hurry, she would probably find herself hyperventilating before too long. She pulled the afghan up and tucked it under her arms.
"Here, this should do the trick," Shane said as he reentered the living room, his amused look taking in the fact she was covered almost from head to toe.
Not nearly enough, Leah thought as she stared at the puny bag of ice. She needed a plunge into a tub of cold water. Maybe then she wouldn't feel so hot around this man. "Thank you. I'm sure I'll be fine in no time. You should go check on Princess." She reached out for the ice pack, amazed her hand was steady.
Shane captured it and inspected it "That's a nasty scratch. I'd better clean it up."
She tried to snatch her hand away. "I can."
"Nonsense. I'm a doctor. I'm here. Where's your medicine cabinet?"
"Somewhere in one of those." She gestured toward the stack of boxes still left to be unpacked.
"Then I'll be right back."
"Don't rush on my account," she said as he quickly left.
She heard the front door open and shut and took a deep breath. A mistake. His fresh soap scent lingered on the air and filled her lungs. Doomed to be in his presence for a while longer, she sank back on the couch and closed her eyes. The aches in her ankle and her hand were nothing compared to the throb in her heart. She knew there was no future for her and Shane, and yet she reacted to his nearness like a teenager with her first crush.
She'd begun to drift toward sleep when she heard the front door crash open. Shane hurried into the room. She shot up, the blanket slipping down around her waist.
"Princess is gone, and so is Arnold.
Chapter Four
"What do you mean, gone?" Leah swung her legs to the floor and grimaced when her twisted ankle touched the carpet
"Gone as in vamoosed." Shane waved his hand to indicate what Arnold had done.
"Maybe they're not together."
"And the moon is really made of cheese. Come on, Leah. Arnold knows a good thing when he sees it."
She rose, careful not to place too much weight on her bad foot. "He might be hiding. You did scare him."
"Not nearly enough, obviously."
The scowl that accompanied that remark made her pause and swallow hard. "You aren't going to do anything rash, are you?"
"Like carry out my earlier threat?"
She nodded.
He stared at her worried expression, and his features softened. "No. I'm all bark, no bite. No pun intended." His hand closed around hers. "You sit and rest that foot while I look for them."
"No. Arnold is my responsibility. I'll help. I'm fine." When he sent her a dubious look, she added, "Really."
"Here. Let me at least clean these scratches. They'll probably be back before I finish."
She sank down onto the couch, not sure if she should trust his sudden cavalier attitude. She didn't have time to think about it, not while her heart was beating so fast and perspiration beaded on her upper lip. The plain and simple truth was that his gentle touch unnerved her. She wasn't used to tenderness, she thought as she watched him turn her hand over and examine the cuts before he opened his black bag and took out some antiseptic.
When he dabbed some cool liquid on her scratches, she quivered, not from the medicine but from the way he took care of her wounds as if she were the most important person in the world to him. For a fleeting moment it made her long for something more, for something she would never have. She had just become too cautious to put her heart in anyone's hands ever again.
"There now. I think you'll live." He curled his large hand around hers for a few seconds while his gaze touched hers.
His lopsided grin tore at her quickly beating heart. She could become used to this man. She knew the danger of that. She and her family never stayed long in any one town. She couldn't afford to invest time in a relationship that would go nowhere.
Leah yanked her hand from his grasp. "Thank you. I think we'd better search for the dogs before something bad happens to them."
"You're right, of course. The highway isn't too far from here."
She paled, having forgotten about the interstate. "You don't think—"
He placed two fingers over her mouth. "No. Princess is too smart to go there."
"Meaning Arnold isn't?" She licked her lips, tasting the salt of him and wishing she hadn't.
He stood. "We're wasting time." He extended his hand to help her up. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here and take care of that ankle?"
"I'm fine," she told him again, holding up her foot and wiggling it around to prove she was. She only hoped he didn't see her gritting her teeth as she moved it.
"If you say so," he said, as he snapped his black bag closed and headed for the front door. "I think we should take my car."
"But—"
He pivoted at the door and speared her with a direct look. "Unless you want to search on foot."
He let his gaze travel down her length until it rested on her ankle, which she was sure was swelling by the minute. She didn't dare follow the direction of his gaze for fear of what she would see.
"No. I was just going to suggest we take my car since yours is a two-seater. Unless you plan on tying the dogs to the hood as ornaments." She actually batted her eyelashes at him as she scooped up her purse from the table by the door. She slipped on her sandals, then proceeded through the open doorway, trying not to limp too much.
She could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Just one dog," and she knew he wasn't talking about Princess. She chose to ignore the comment as she slid into her mini van.
When she pressed her foot down on the accelerator she wished she had asked him to drive—her ankle throbbed—but she wouldn't utter a sound of protest. He would want to leave her at home, and for Arnold's sake she had better go. Not that she really thought Shane would harm her pet, but someone had to be the beagle's champion. She was a sucker for big brown eyes. Then she remembered that was the color of Shane's, too.
"Where should we start?" She backed out of her driveway, aware it was not even seven in the morning and so much had already happened. She wondered what a dull, routine life was like. She actually had never had one, not with a grandfather like hers.
"Let's try the woods three blocks over first." Shane pointed in the direction he wanted her to go, then waved to Madge as she stepped out onto her porch, a frown marring her features.
"She always seems to be outside at just the right moment."
"You think she thought we spent the night together?"
Leah nearly stomped on the brake but curbed the impulse. Instead she sent Shane a stunned look. The man knew how to throw a curve, and at the same time heat up an already hot situation. "Heavens no! How—" She searched for the right words. "How could she? We only met yesterday."
He laughed. "And you think that's a reason that we wouldn't have? Madge may not be as worldly as some people, but believe me when I say she has a fertile mind. She's been trying her hand at writing."
"Oh my. Madge and I have something in common." Leah turned the corner onto Elm Stree
t.
"You've been writing, or you have a fertile mind?"
"Both, actually. I write children's books for a living. I do the Freddy Filmore series."
He tapped the side of his head. "The beagle that's a detective. I have a few of those books in my waiting room for the kids to read. So Arnold is your inspiration. Sic him on Ned. He might be able to give you pointers for your next plot."
"Yeah." She smiled. "Pointers to the way out of town."
"Not everyone in Shady Oaks is like Ned."
"How long have you had Princess?" Leah asked, not wanting to discuss the Shiplocks anymore.
"Four years. She was Sarah's dog."
"Sarah?"
"My wife. She died from breast cancer. She loved Princess. The dog gave her a lot of comfort in her last few months." A long pause filled the van before Shane continued. "I have my own dog. Brutus."
"What kind is he?" Leah asked, grabbing at the change in the conversation. She felt his vulnerability, the pain he must have gone through watching his wife die. That explained the wedding ring, but it made her want to care even more. Maybe if she chanted, he is just my neighbor enough, it would finally sink in. With a quick glance at the gold band he still wore, she reminded herself that this man wasn't in the market for a relationship. Nor, for that matter, was she. Leah struggled to control the feelings that threatened to surface.
"A little bit of everything."
"And you weren't worried about Brutus and Princess?"
"When I got him from the pound, it was taken care of."
"So you have a show dog and a mutt. An interesting combination."
He chuckled. "I never thought of it that way, but you're right. I guess our pets reflect our preferences."
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not. Are you saying because Arnold behaves badly that I do?"
"I'm not saying a thing. Pull over here." He gestured to the side of the road. "I thought I saw a white flash through those trees."
Leah did as she was told, even though she wasn't sure how they were going to follow the dogs through a tangle of limbs and leaves that was a great hiding place for a creature only two feet tall.
"Are you sure about this? What about snakes?" Leah asked as she limped after Shane into the thick underbrush, her gaze sweeping the rough terrain warily. "I forgot to tell you I'm not an outdoorsy type. Nature and I don't often get along."
"We'll just have a quick look," he replied while searching the area. "What do you mean about you and nature?"
"Well, for one thing, I'm allergic to bees. And for another, I shouldn't get too close to poison ivy. I can just look at it from twenty feet away, and I get a rash."
Shane's gaze drifted down toward her sandals. "What happens if you stand in it?"
Leah jumped back, her attention riveted to the ground where her feet were—where a clump of poison ivy was, trampled but she forgot all about her throbbing ankle as she imagined the fiercely itchy rash that would creep up her legs.
"You're a doctor. Do something!"
"I suggest we get you home and into a shower."
Leah's head snapped up, her startled look directed at Shane. The image of a poison ivy rash vanished. In its place was a picture of her and Shane in a shower together. She shook her head to rid herself of the thought, again telling herself there was no way she was interested in this man.
"As much as the prospect of taking a shower with a beautiful woman has appeal, that wasn't what I meant when I made the suggestion," he said gently, smiling.
"I knew that."
"Oh? Do you always blush a nice shade of red?"
"Always."
He chuckled. "Come on, Leah. Let's get you back to your house. If the dogs haven't returned, I'll go look for them while you have that shower. You need to wash the plant's oil off your skin." He threw an arm around her waist to help her walk faster. "No matter what, do not scratch your legs."
"Yes, doctor. Anything else, doctor?"
He slanted a look down at her, his arm cradling her against him. "I'll get you some medicine for the rash—if it appears."
"Not if. When." She paused at the passenger door of her mini van, their gazes bound. The dark embers of his eyes burned into her. She fought the urge to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. "Thanks," she murmured, her mouth suddenly dry, her throat tight.
"You're welcome." He reached around her and opened the door. "I'm driving."
"Yes, doctor." She slid into the van with his help, his large hands lingering on her arm longer than necessary.
As he rounded the front of the van Leah fanned herself, the heat of their encounter going straight to her cheeks. She felt on fire. When he opened the driver's side door, she sat on her hands to keep from fanning herself any more, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that the man disconcerted her every time they were together.
He looked down at her hands tucked under her thighs while he started the van. "Cold?"
"You told me not to scratch." There was no way she was going to explain that he was the reason she was sitting on her hands.
"You must have it bad."
Yes, she did, she thought, but wasn't going to tell him what kind of bad case she had.
When they pulled into the driveway, Leah half expected Madge and Ned to be out on their porch, but luckily the pair were inside, probably concocting a story about why the town mayor was seen coming out of the divorcee's house at six-forty five in the morning.
"Stay put," he commanded as he switched off the engine and climbed out of the van.
As he assisted her, his touch again produced a quickening in her pulse rate. She had forgotten how comforting the feel of strong arms about her could be. The feeling was a luxury she would have to forgo in the future, she told herself as she limped up to the porch with Shane next to her.
"You go take that shower. I'll get you the medicine you'll need."
"How about the dogs?"
"I'll take care of them later. First you."
First you. Those words were never uttered in connection with her. The feeling they generated was more potent than the touch of his hands on her. As she sailed into the house she felt as if she were on a cloud, high above earth, her ankle all but forgotten. She wondered when she would plunge to the ground.
Reality struck quickly when she experienced the urge to scratch, reminding her of what was important for the time being. Leah knew the drill when it came to poison ivy. She took all the precautions she could, and scrubbed herself raw. There was no way any of the plant's oil was left on her body when she was through, because she felt as if there was little skin left. That wasn't what she was really worried about, though—it was the damage already done before the shower that had her worried.
With her hair wrapped in a towel and her body clad in a short terry cloth robe, she made her way toward the kitchen. A knock sounded at the front door. Backtracking, she peered through the slit in the blinds and saw Shane standing on the porch. A memory of the first time she had seen him flashed into her mind. So much had happened in twenty-four hours.
This time she smiled when she opened the door. "Hi." Suddenly she felt awkward. At least she didn't look like Rocky the Raccoon.
"Hi, yourself. Here's the medicine I promised you." He gave her a vial, his fingers closing around hers.
She should pull her hand away, but she couldn't bring herself to. She stared into his dark eyes, everything fading from her consciousness but the fact that a handsome man stood in front of her. He began to bend his head toward hers. She held her breath, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers, suddenly wanting the feel of his lips on hers. Then she heard a bark, and the moment vanished. As though she had been caught doing something she shouldn't have, she snatched her hand away and glanced toward the street.
Arnold came trotting up the middle of the road, with Princess by his side. A look of pleasure was plastered on his mug. His head was held high and his tail was stuck up in the air. Was it possible for a
dog to be feeling his oats? Leah wondered, hiding her grin. Her fingers were pressed to her mouth.
"Obviously he wants to assure himself that his line will continue," Shane muttered. He turned away from her. "Don't forget to have your ankle X-rayed if it continues to bother you, Leah."
He jogged down the steps and across the yard. As the canine pair neared the driveway, Shane grabbed Princess and kept on moving toward his house without a backward glance.
Leah picked up Arnold and stared into his pleased mug. "Your timing is excellent as always." As she took him into the house, she wasn't sure if she was glad her pet had picked that moment to come home, or upset that he had. She couldn't seem to make up her mind when it came to a certain doctor.
* * *
Shane paced from one end of his den to the other, nervous energy making his strides long and quick. He plunged his hand through his hair repeatedly until it looked as if he didn't own a brush. Halting, he stared at the entrance that led to the front door.
He had almost kissed her—at seven in the morning, in full view of the Shiplocks. He was sure that both Madge and Ned were spying on them from their living room, where a telescope had been set up. The man had probably zoomed in for a close up. If Madge hadn't already sullied Leah's reputation, that scene on her porch probably would have done it. He didn't care for himself, but Leah didn't need to be the object of rampant gossip in Shady Oaks. She was new to town, and people sometimes thought the worst until they got to know a person.
Besides, he didn't want to get involved. Hadn't he old himself that just yesterday? In less than a day the woman had twisted her ankle and contracted a bad case of poison ivy. She was a walking time bomb waiting to explode. At the very least she and her family were some doctor's retirement.
When the phone rang, Shane swung around and stared at the offending contraption. He picked it up on the fourth ring and rolled his eyes when he heard Ned's voice. Of course, the busybody would call.
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