THE SUN was sinking low in the sky, and the balmy, early autumn air had taken on a real crispness. Looping his hammer over a pocket opening, Block stopped a moment to appreciate the sight of the sun as it descended toward the horizon, streaking the clouds with orange and rose as it went. He dragged his gaze from the setting sun and set his mind to the job at hand. He had only a few more shingles to place, and he didn’t want to be caught by darkness before he was finished.
The last of Macy’s patients had pulled out of the parking lot, and the staff were leaving, one by one. He thought about this old building as he hammered the last shingle into place. When he was growing up, only the most well-off could afford to come here. He’d never been inside until last night. Judging from the assortment of patients he’d seen waiting earlier, things had changed. Changed a lot. Used to be the folks that lived on the wrong side of the railroad spur wouldn’t dare come over here unless they had cold, hard cash.
Yet last night and today he had seen people working together who would have never as much as offered the time of day to each other a few years ago. Had the town he’d tried so hard to forget changed while he was away?
Or had only his perceptions changed?
A door slammed, and he looked down to see Macy heading for her car. Block’s first thought was to tease her about her long day, but her shoulders drooped and her steps dragged, and he knew that her weariness wasn’t a joke. For that matter, neither was his.
“Goodbye, Macy,” he called.
She looked up suddenly as if he’d startled her out of her thoughts. “Oh, Alex. Don’t you think you should come down before it’s too dark to see?”
Block grinned. “I just have to knock in a couple more nails and I’m done. I’m right behind you.”
She sent him a weary smile. “You be careful,” she said. “I don’t need to be called back to tend to you tonight. All I can think about right now is supper and about ten hours in bed.”
Macy might not have realized how tantalizing that notion was, but Block did. He could think of nothing better than a night in bed with a willing woman to help relax him. No, not any woman. Macy. Who had haunted his dreams for the past five years.
But even he knew that tonight was not going to be the night. Macy had looked dead on her feet as she’d all but collapsed into her car.
But tomorrow would be another day.
He pulled a couple more roofing nails out of his pocket, set them into place, and finished the job.
NOT ONLY did Macy have sleeping on her mind as she drove home to collect her son, but she had a lot of thinking to do. So far, Alex hadn’t realized that Cory was hers. Or if he had, he didn’t care.
And somehow she knew the man who’d been so kind and helpful today would care. Of course, the fact that she had a son might not be an issue to him. It was that other fact, the one that only she knew, that would really matter—and matter a great deal.
In the meantime she breathed a grateful sigh that her long day was over as she pulled up in front of her house. Any other day she might linger and chat with Willadean, but today all she could think of was getting Cory home before Alex returned.
And he could be mere minutes behind her.
She shut off the engine, climbed wearily out of the car and turned toward Willadean’s little house. She trudged up the porch steps and wondered how she’d mustered up the energy to do that much.
Macy rapped gently on the door and stepped inside. The smell of something delicious greeted her nose, and her mouth watered. She followed the aroma into the kitchen. Willadean stood at the stove stirring a steaming pot, and Cory sat in his booster chair, a steaming bowl of something in front of him.
They hadn’t noticed her, so Macy took a moment to gather her thoughts then pasted a saccharine smile on her face and breezed in. “How are my two favorite people?” she said with false cheer.
Cory swiveled around in his chair and grinned. “Mama, the ’frigerator thawded out, and me ’n’ Gramma hadda make soup so everything wouldn’t spoil!” he said excitedly.
Macy kissed Cory on the top of his head. “Eat up, son, so we can go.”
Willadean turned. “What’s the hurry?” she asked. “Sit down, child, and have some soup before you go home. You look plumb wore out.”
How Macy wished she could accept Willadean’s invitation, but she was too weary to deal with anything more complicated than one small boy tonight. Any confrontations with Alex would have to wait.
And as far as Macy was concerned, the longer, the better.
“Cory and I checked your refrigerator and cleaned it out, so you made a donation to this soup, too.”
“Thank you, Willadean, but I’m so tired, I don’t think I have the energy to eat.” She rubbed her gritty and tired eyes. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just take Cory out of your way, and get on home.”
Willadean shook her head, tut-tutting as she ladled some soup into a quart Mason jar. “Won’t take no time at all to eat some soup, but if you just got your heart set on going home, the least I can do is send some soup home with you. I’d never be able to live with myself if you died of starvation in your sleep when I had all this food over here.” She screwed the lid on top, wrapped the jar with a couple of dish towels, and put it in a plastic bag.
“Thank you,” Macy said, accepting the bag. Funny, saying thank you was getting easier by the minute. Too bad she hadn’t managed to thank Alex. “Alex came by the clinic today and not only fixed the shingles on the roof, but made sure I had lunch, too.” She smiled, remembering the way he’d made an appointment to see that she ate.
“That’s my boy. I wondered where he was all day,” Willadean said. “At least he had something to keep himself busy. That man’s been too restless the last couple of days. I don’t think he’s very happy with the idea of having to set down at a desk even if recruitin’ is good, decent work. You know that man’d rather be in the thick of things than settin’ on the outside, watchin’.”
“Yes, ma’am. I know,” Macy said. That’s what she was afraid of. She covered a yawn with her hand. “Come on, Cory, Mama’s tired.”
Cory scooped up more soup, then grabbed a handful of crackers and shoved them into his mouth and pushed out of the chair at the same time. “Okay, Mama, I’m ready,” he said, his mouth full.
Macy smiled. Little boys were so dear. “Let’s go, son.”
“What’s funny, Mama?” Cory said, skipping along behind her as they left Willadean’s house.
“Nothing,” Macy said. “I’m just happy to have you. You are my favorite son, you know,” she said, hurrying across the yard.
“That’s silly, Mama. I’m the onliest one.”
Macy trudged up the three steps to the wide front porch and pulled her keys from her pocket. “And one of you is plenty,” she said, goosing him till he giggled. Then she unlocked the door, and he scampered inside.
As she flipped on the inside light and set the soup on a table, she wondered if the mail had run today. She didn’t know why she cared. The only things it seemed to bring these days were bills, but she might as well look.
“I’m going out to the mailbox, Cory,” she called and turned back to the road. As she hurried down the walk, she caught a flash of headlights coming around the corner. That surely must be Alex.
Had her trip to the mailbox been for mail, or had it really been because she’d hoped to catch another glimpse of Alex? Macy shrugged. Did it really matter?
Block pulled up behind the ancient Buick in front of his grandmother’s house and sat there a moment, thinking.
Funny, he had no conscious memory of crossing the railroad spur that had so effectively divided the town when he was growing up. Then, it had seemed like a barrier as solid as The Great Wall of China. Even the air on the “other” side of town had once seemed cleaner, clearer, freer. Then, when a car rumbled over the tracks, the shaking had seemed like a rude reminder that he’d better be on his best behavior. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed as much as a s
himmy. Today, that side of town had seemed no different than this old familiar neighborhood.
Was disaster the great equalizer?
Maybe he had changed.
Block let out a low, long breath and looked around. Lights shone, warm and friendly, from most of the houses surrounding Gramma’s just as they always had this time of day. He saw the warm glow of a lamp in one house, the blue flicker of a television screen from another; sights that were so familiar, yet at this moment seemed so alien.
He’d been back only a few days, but he almost felt as though he belonged here. When had Lyndonville, South Carolina, started to feel comfortable? When had it started to feel like home?
He smiled and locked the car. Maybe being back in Lyndonville wasn’t so bad after all.
He spotted Macy at her mailbox, and it surprised him that she had settled into her Aunt Earnestine’s house. He’d assumed she had moved into a modern apartment on the new side of town, but she was here, and that was fine with him. He waved, and she waved back. He supposed, though, that she had college loans to repay, so she couldn’t be choosy.
“It turned out to be a pretty nice day, wouldn’t you say?” he called, not at all comfortable with idle talk, but for some reason, wanting to prolong the moment. Macy Jackson and he weren’t exactly in the same league, her being a doctor and all, but she wasn’t hard to look at.
“Yes, I guess so, considering the storm,” Macy replied, turning toward the house.
“Well, see ya,” Block said, then headed for Gramma’s. And, he thought, as he loped up the steps, two at a time, to the front porch, the best part was that Macy was here. Maybe this time, the time would be right for them.
Remembering the skinny, big-eyed girl who used to beg him and C.J. to let her join their secret boy adventures, he had to chuckle. Who would have thought that Macy Jackson would grow up to be such an interesting woman? And such a beauty! That scrawny duckling had turned into quite a swan!
And he knew from personal experience that her serious, professional demeanor hid a very sensuous side. Remembering the kiss in Macy’s office, he had to smile. Maybe with the very nicely grown-up Macy around, Lyndonville wouldn’t be such a bad place.
He was a grown man, he’d gotten an education, he knew his place in the world. Well…he used to know it. But, he figured he could use the next two years, assuming he got the recruiting job, to get his head on straight and figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. And where.
As he stepped inside, interested in little more than a hot shower and a belly full of food, he had to smile. Maybe his future wasn’t so bleak, after all. Maybe he could make this recruiter job work.
With Macy Jackson around, life would certainly not be boring.
AMAZING what a bowl of hot soup and a few minutes with one’s feet up could do for a woman, Macy thought, half sitting, half lying, on her couch as Cory watched a video of his favorite dinosaur character. Not her idea of a fun evening, but Cory was enjoying himself.
Her attention drifted from the television screen, and she thought about the long day. She skimmed past the horrible wake-up call in the middle of the night to her first sighting of Alex, so solid and strong as he worked to free Leticia from the tangled metal that was all that was left of her family’s trailer. She skipped past the memory of the trailer park to the kiss; that wonderful, awful mistake of a kiss in the exam room in the wee hours of the morning.
How could she have let him do that? How could she not?
Macy chuckled as she remembered the fast-food picnic on the table in the exam room. She had seen a different side of Alex today. One that she hadn’t realized existed.
When she was growing up, she’d seen Alex as an idol, someone to be worshiped from afar. As she’d grown older, he’d changed from the teasing older boy to a silent and aloof man. Still unattainable. Then, there had come that one, wonderful, ill-advised night.
She had experienced him as a lover. Even then, he had remained as distant and unreachable as ever. Over the years she had tried to forget that that one night had ever happened. She had tried to forget the man she had loved since she was old enough to understand the word.
She’d had to face it. Real love, true love was not a one-way street. When Alex had left her the next morning with only a terse promise to do the right thing if it was necessary, she had known that she had to forget about him, something that had proved impossible. He had demonstrated by his long absence exactly what that night and she had meant to him.
She would never again give herself to a man who didn’t love her back. She wanted all or nothing. And Alex had given her nothing…except…
Macy glanced down at Cory, sitting so quietly on the floor. Little had she known then how one night could change things.
She looked up to see that the final credits to the video were playing, and the clock on the VCR showed that it was time to turn the television set off.
“All right, sport. Time for your bath,” Macy said, pushing herself up from the couch.
Cory scampered to his bedroom to get his pajamas, and she headed for the bathroom. As she ran the bath, she remembered something she had tried to forget: Alex in the shower the morning after.
Her face burned as she remembered.
She jerked awake, startled to find herself naked in a strange bed. Water was running in another room, the shower, she guessed. Then she remembered where she was and who she was with. Alex! She had spent the night with Alex. In C.J.’s apartment.
And they’d done more than sleep.
Still, she loved the way she’d felt in his arms, the way he’d been so gentle and tender. How he’d brought her to completion and made her a woman. He’d taken charge of everything, even remembering protection.
She’d needed him then. He’d needed her. It didn’t matter that grief for C.J. had caused them to come together. It only mattered that they had.
Macy smiled as she stretched, catlike and lazy. Muscles she wasn’t used to using ached, and her feminine parts were tender and sore. She knew what would make them feel better, but did she dare?
She’d dared to let last night happen. She could do this, too.
Macy slipped out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around her, and tiptoed silently to the bathroom. There she could see Alex’s silhouette, large and powerful, through the rippled glass of the shower door. She wanted to do more than just watch.
Taking a deep breath—for courage, she supposed—she pulled open the door and stepped inside…
“Mom, I’m getting all pruney.”
Macy blinked. “What? What did you say?” She shook her head to clear her mind.
“I’m ready to get out, Mom,” Cory said. “I’m all pruney and the water’s cold.”
What had she been thinking? Letting her mind wander off to such thoughts when she was supposed to be watching Cory in the tub. He could have drowned. Macy shook her head once again, and reached to pull the plug. Then she took a towel and wrapped it around her son’s little body and squeezed her to him. How could she have risked losing him?
BLOCK STEPPED into the steaming spray and flexed his complaining muscles. He could not remember a night when he’d been so tired. Even in the worst battlefield situation, real or simulated, he didn’t think he’d been this beat. And his muscles, muscles he’d trained and shaped and molded, ached as if he’d never picked up a hammer. Of course, hammering was not something he was used to. Nor was the sexual tension that seemed to flow between him and Macy whenever they were near.
If only Macy weren’t so beautiful, so tempting, so near. If only they hadn’t had that one night so long ago, that should have been over and done with, but just seemed like so much unfinished business.
What was it about that night that had made him want to savor it, to live it over and over again?
He closed his eyes and let the warm, soothing water sluice over him as he remembered.
Block felt the rush of cool air and his body tensed. He’d been trained to be ready for
anything and he became instantly alert. His muscles tensed and he rose lightly on his toes, ready to spring into action. Before he could move, he felt someone’s arms slither around him, and any urge to fight fled. He smiled with pleasure. Macy! Her skin felt soft and silky as warm water sluiced over them. Her small, perfect breasts teased his back as she caressed his chest, slick with soap and water. He grew aroused and hard.
“You can scrub my back any day,” he whispered.
Macy laughed. “You are confused. It’s your front I’m scrubbing.”
“Not with your hands.” Then he maneuvered himself around to face her.
He could tell by Macy’s shocked expression, which quickly turned pleased, that she knew what was on his mind.
“Why, Sergeant Blocker,” she murmured, her voice sultry as a hot July evening as she twined her arms around his neck. “Is that a gun in your pocket? Or are you just happy to see me?”
Block chuckled at the silly cliché. “Believe me, Macy. It isn’t a gun.”
A slow, pleased smile spread across Macy’s face. “Well, I guess that means you’re glad to see me, then.” She raised up on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his mouth, teasing him, making him want her more.
He pulled her close, crushing her in his arms till her breasts were pushed flat against his chest. He kissed her, hard, fast and….
Chapter Four
“Alex, you need to get out of the shower now. I’ve got your supper on the table,” Gramma called from outside the bathroom door.
The arousal that had formed as he remembered the night he and Macy had spent together wilted as fast as a deflated balloon, and Block groaned. And he didn’t know why.
Was it because he had been interrupted in the middle of the most delicious daydream he’d had in forever, or because he’d recalled a memory of something that was just as well forgotten?
Macy was a doctor. She was beautiful and smart and educated. She had worked hard and sacrificed so much to become the woman she was today. She’d been trained to heal. Block shook his head ruefully. He’d worked just as hard and given up just as much, but he’d been trained to kill.
The Sergeant's Secret Son Page 5
