Venus in Blue Jeans

by Meg Benjamin

  Cal nodded. “Right.”

  “Well, I’m supposed to bring you up too.” He flashed his teeth in an expression that was a cross between a grin and a snarl.

  Cal tightened his jaw, hunching up as close to his full height as he could inside the cave. “I can rappel up if you’ve got an extra harness.”

  Berman gave him a dubious look. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. But Ms. Kent goes first in the chair.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Cal sighed.

  Berman stepped back to the cave mouth. “Send it down!” he muttered into his mike.

  “I officially hate Plan B,” Docia whispered.

  Cal gathered his battered lab coat from the floor of the cave and handed it to her. “Would you carry him?”

  Docia frowned at the coat. “He’d rather be with you.”

  “Maybe. But he’ll go with you. And it’ll be safer for him. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

  Slowly, Docia slid her arms through the sleeves.

  “C’mon, buddy,” Cal called.

  Pep clicked happily from the back of the cave, tail wagging in delight.

  Berman stared down, shaking his head. “You have got to be friggin’ kidding me!”

  —

  In the end, Docia held Pep in her lap while she was strapped into the chair. He was perfectly willing to sit there, trembling faintly. Docia closed her eyes and crooned to him as they inched their way up the cliff side. Somewhere at the back of her mind she thought it might be easier all around if the damn rope broke now. Which hurt more—a broken neck or a broken heart?

  At the top, several hands grabbed hold of her. She held tight to Pep and let herself be pulled to her feet.

  “Now get Cal,” she gasped. “Get him up here please.”

  And then someone hugged her tight, so tight Pep, sandwiched between them, yipped. Her father stepped back, staring down. “What the hell is that?”

  “This dog helped save my life.” Docia turned back to the edge of the cliff and forced herself to watch as Berman descended again with an extra harness.

  “Well, bring the little mutt a bone, somebody.” Her father’s voice boomed out behind her.

  For Docia, the ride to the top had taken an eon. Cal’s climb took two.

  She stood, holding Pep tight in her arms—not that he would have run off, but suddenly she couldn’t bear to let him go. He huddled, small and warm, against her chest.

  Slowly, the two figures climbed up the cliff side. And then, finally, Cal stood in front of her, unbuckling the harness.

  Docia was almost dizzy with relief.

  “You saved her life.” Her father’s voice came from somewhere behind her. She wasn’t sure exactly where.

  “It was a joint effort.” Cal’s voice rumbled from deep in his chest. He didn’t even glance at Docia.

  “No,” her father snapped.

  Docia turned to stare at him. His jaw was trembling, as if he was trying to catch his breath. “You saved her. You listened to Janie Dupree. You bullied that fool Linklatter into getting you out here. And I’d be willing to bet you got her up that cliff to the cave.” He looked straight at Docia. “Would I be right on that?”

  “Yes sir,” she whispered.

  “Then I don’t want to hear any modesty. Thank you for saving my daughter’s life.” Her father’s voice cracked on the final word. He fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief, then turned on his heel. “Come on. Let’s get everybody off this goddamn cliff.”

  Cal handed the harness to one of the rescue workers, then followed her father toward the row of SUVs. He hadn’t looked at her since he’d come over the top of the cliff, and he didn’t look at her now.

  Docia had her answer. A broken heart was definitely more painful.

  Chapter Nineteen

  In Billy Kent’s SUV, they were given granola bars and water. Not a bean-and-cheese burrito and a Dos Equis, but Cal figured it would do for a start. He poured water down his parched throat, already dreaming of a dinner at Brenner’s. That would be after he’d slept for at least twelve hours.

  Docia sat in the backseat between him and her father, Pep curled in a tight ball on her lap. Cal couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Every time he saw her face creased in misery it made the ache in his chest that much worse. He still couldn’t figure out how much of that ache was anger and how much was…something else. He figured he needed some time to sort it all out before he did anything terminally stupid. Or stupider.

  Now she turned to her father. “Have they found Brody yet?”

  Billy scowled. “They’ll catch him, honey. The Rangers are on it now. He must have gotten tipped off somehow when he came back to town after he…left you.”

  Docia closed her eyes briefly. “But they haven’t caught him yet?”

  “No. They found Morris at his folks’ house. But he didn’t know where Brody had gone.” Billy paused, then nodded decisively. “So now I’m taking you to stay up at Buckhorn until this is all over.”

  Cal glanced at him. He wasn’t sure whether that you was supposed to be singular or plural, but he knew damn well he wasn’t going to stay at Billy Kent’s hunting lodge. Whether he was going to stay with Docia was another question, but he knew it wasn’t one he wanted to tackle at Buckhorn.

  “No,” Docia said, softly.

  Billy’s mouth settled into a mulish line. “Docia Mae…”

  “No, Daddy. Brody doesn’t want me. He just wants to get into my shop.” Docia leaned toward him, her jaw set. “And I’m not going to let that bastard run my life—he’s not going to make me hide. I’m going back home to Konigsburg. To my place.” She swallowed hard.

  Billy Kent stared at her, looking a little like Yosemite Sam. Cal half expected to see steam issue from his ears. “I’ve got more effective security at Buckhorn. I can protect you. I can…”

  “No, Daddy.” Docia reached over to touch her father’s arm. “Thank you for being concerned about me, but no. I need to be back in Konigsburg. I owe you more than I can say for saving me today. And for saving Cal. And Pep.” Docia leaned down to rest her head on her father’s shoulder.

  Billy was caught between exasperation and pride, along with a love so painful Cal could hardly bear to watch his expression. Cal turned to look out the window.

  “Any time, baby,” he heard Billy whisper.

  A half hour later they were crossing the Konigsburg city limits. Cal tried to sound casual, as if he was coming back from a day in the country rather than a series of life-changing experiences. “If you could just let me off at the clinic, I’ll get home from there. My truck’s in the parking lot.” Or anyway he hoped it was. God only knew what Horace had done when he’d found out Cal had lit out for the hills.

  “That sounds good.” Docia’s voice was as phony-casual as his own. “I need to find Allie and Janie and let them know I’m back. I’ll hike over to Sweet Thing from there.”

  “Did spending a night in that cave turn you both into blithering idiots?” Billy Kent inquired. “You’re witnesses in a major crime. Your lives were at stake. You’re not going anywhere but home, with an escort.”

  Cal sighed. It was already the longest day of his life, and it didn’t promise to end anytime soon. He gave the driver directions for the clinic, then watched the streets of Konigsburg roll by in silence, painfully aware of Docia’s presence beside him.

  His truck still sat where he’d left it at the back of the parking lot. Cal was suddenly very conscious of how grubby he was after a night in the cave. His hands and face were sticky with dirt and granola crumbs. As he stepped out of the SUV, he limped in the aftermath of climbing the cliff in something other than rock-climbing shoes. Hoping he could make it back to the barn before anybody saw him, he headed for his truck.

  Vain hope.

  The door to the clinic swung open when he was halfway across the asphalt, and Bethany and Horace spilled out. Horace ran across the parking lot, his moustache flapping in the breeze. Cal didn’t think he’d ever
seen Horace run anywhere before.

  Horace grabbed his hand, pumping his arm as if his armpit might produce oil. “Goddamn, son, didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” He stopped, pulled out a handkerchief, and blew his nose with a mighty honk. “Good for you, boy, you both got out alive and in one piece.” Horace’s voice became ragged and he cleared his throat. “Hard to break in a new partner, you know.”

  Cal started to explain that he’d had lots of help in getting out alive, mostly thanks to Billy Kent, when Bethany almost knocked him off his feet with a bear hug around his waist. “I knew you could do it, Doc. You’re the man!”

  More people were coming into the parking lot now, and Cal realized that Docia had stepped out of the SUV too. Her hair was streaked with limestone dust and mud from the cave, and she winced as her bare feet touched the asphalt. Cal’s throat tightened.

  Then Janie ran up and threw her arms around Docia, gasping for breath. “You’re all right. Oh, God, you’re all right. Oh, Docia, I was so worried!”

  “I’m okay.” Docia’s voice sounded slightly hoarse. She patted Janie on the back. “It’s all right, Janie. Thank you so much for getting help. You saved my life.”

  “I didn’t.” Janie sobbed in earnest now. “Cal did. Oh, I knew you’d find her. I knew it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She threw her arms around Cal’s neck, creating the possibility of nasty whiplash given that Bethany still had his waist.

  “Well, thanks,” Cal stammered, “but really, you know…”

  Docia was caught around the neck in another embrace as Allie began sobbing against her shoulder. “You’re all right! Oh dear God, Docia, we didn’t know what to think!” She turned and threw her arms around Cal beside Janie, as Bethany moved away. “And you saved her. You glorious hunk! Free scones for life, I promise!”

  Cal started to explain once again that actually a lot of people had been involved, and he was just one of them, but the words died in his throat. He stared at Docia, who was wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

  He had saved her. He and Pep. They’d done it, the two of them. By God, he was going to enjoy this, even if it didn’t last long!

  Other people were running up the street toward them by then—Lee and Ken, Ingstrom, even a faintly bleary-eyed Biedermeier. Storeowners he knew only vaguely were thumping him on the back and kissing Docia on the cheek.

  Cal blinked. Rhonda Ruckelshaus, resplendent in a bright pink smock with purple embroidery on the pocket, gave Docia a hug and kissed her on the cheek. Somewhere Cal bet Margaret Hastings was gnashing her teeth.

  Wonder joined Allie, pumping Cal’s hand in a sort of confused way, as if he weren’t really used to being sincere. Then he caught sight of Pep, huddled on the asphalt beside Docia’s feet, trying to avoid being stepped on.

  “Holy crap!” Wonder gasped. “Don’t tell me you took the little rat along with you for all of this?”

  Docia bent down quickly and swept Pep up into her arms. “Nobody calls him a rat anymore, you hear me, Wonder? Never again!” Her voice was strident. “He’s my hero, and nobody will ever poke fun at him! Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  She stared at the crowd of surprised faces with fierce green eyes, then burst into noisy tears. Cal fought the impulse to step forward and wrap his arms around her.

  An amazing woman pushed her way through the crowd of gawkers. She was at least as tall as Docia, but her hair was the color of ripe wheat and teased into an elaborate updo that resembled the meringue on the pies at the Silver Spur. She was wearing a pantsuit that was the color of an August sunset with a sky blue silk shawl around her shoulders. One foot was swathed in a matching sky blue athletic bandage.

  The woman put her arms around Docia, pulling her close, while Billy Kent stood frozen in front of the SUV, staring at her. Cal could hear Docia gasping in dry sobs against the woman’s chest. Caught between their two formidable bosoms, Pep whimpered softly.

  “Y’all better give my baby some space now,” the woman murmured. “She’s had a rough couple of days.”

  Docia’s father moved to her other side, wrapping one arm around her waist as her mother patted her on the shoulder. Cal watched as her parents walked her toward the waiting SUV without a backward glance.

  He stood frozen for a long moment, aware of a score of curious gazes around the parking lot. “So long, babe,” he murmured and walked toward his truck again.

  —

  “You know I’m sorry, don’t you?” Docia asked.

  “I know,” Cal mumbled.

  “You know I love you, don’t you?” Docia asked.

  “I know.”

  “You know I’m a dream, don’t you?”

  “I know.” Cal sighed.

  Dream Docia morphed into Señor Pepe, brown eyes wide. “You know she stole your dog, don’t you?” He sounded slightly like Antonio Banderas.

  Cal’s eyes snapped open and he fumbled for the alarm clock on the bedside table, squinting at the numbers in disbelief. He must have slept for almost twelve hours, from evening to morning. Sunlight steamed through the back window of his loft and Nico was curled on the pillow next to him, giving him an accusing look.

  “Okay,” Cal muttered, “all right. I’ll feed you. With any luck, your owner should be by to pick you up sometime soon.”

  He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for another moment, trying to decide if he really wanted Docia to come by. That was his brain, though. His body had already decided, if the ache in his groin was any indication.

  He stumbled down the ladder from the loft and stopped dead.

  Billy Kent sat in one of Cal’s kitchen chairs with an array of Allie’s scones spread on the table beside him. His Wall Street Journal was open on his lap, and he wore a pair of half-glasses that made him look like a cross between Benjamin Franklin and Lou Dobbs.

  Cal took a deep breath. “No offense, Mr. Kent, but I thought I locked that door before I went to sleep yesterday.”

  Billy looked at him over his half-glasses, a faintly smug smile curving his lips. “You need to get yourself a better lock, son. My driver took care of that one in under five minutes.”

  He picked up his Wall Street Journal again. Cal wandered over to the kitchen table, sorting through the scones with his index finger. “Any of these peach?”

  “Yeah.” Billy nodded toward a golden one on the end. “Lordy, that woman can bake up a storm. She brought these over a half hour ago. Said you’d want something when you woke up.”

  Cal took the peach scone and wandered over to his coffeepot. It smelled much better than it usually did. “She brought coffee too?”

  Billy nodded. “She made it when she dropped off the scones. Said it was some kind of special grind you liked.”

  “Yep.” Cal poured himself a cup.

  Billy’s brow furrowed. “She also said you should stop being an idiot. I’m guessing you understand what she’s talking about.”

  Cal’s jaw firmed. Terrific. He’d been hoping for a grace period before he had to face up to the whole Docia question.

  Billy peered at him over the top of his glasses. “Something going on between you and my daughter, son?”

  Grace period officially over. “You probably need to talk to Docia about that, sir.” He sat in Uncle Ollie’s rocker and took a bite of his scone.

  “I’m going to talk to her,” Billy growled. “Right now I’m talking to you, though.”

  Cal frowned. He wasn’t sure where Billy was headed, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to go along for the ride. “Look, Mr. Kent, I just got off a cliff side and I’m not ready to have this conversation.”

  Billy made a disgusted sound and folded up his paper. “The two of you are having trouble, right? Is this about that little pissant Donnie Branscombe? I should have ripped that bugger’s nuts off when I had the chance.”

  Cal wondered momentarily what kind of chance that had been, then shrugged. “If Donnie Branscombe is her former boyfriend, then yeah, Docia has a few
issues.”

  “She’s not still in love with that asshole, is she?” Billy stalked to the coffeepot and refilled his cup. “I thought she was over him.”

  “I don’t know how she feels, exactly. But I don’t think she wants him back.” Cal took a bite of scone. Oh, Allie, you jewel! “Like I say, you should talk to her, not me.” Not my problem, Billy. Not at the moment, anyway.

  Cal’s front door swung open as he took another bite. Billy was right—he definitely needed a new lock.

  Docia’s mama was wearing another amazing pantsuit, this one bright green. Cal wondered briefly how she slept on that hair. Probably used a custom pillow.

  “Hi, there.” She gave him a smile with wattage that could have illuminated DFW on a foggy night. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Docia’s mama, Reba Kent. I thought you might like to know where she is.”

  Cal turned to see Billy Kent standing beside his chair with an expression that was three-fifths wary, two-fifths delighted. “Hey, Reba. Found him, I see.”

  Reba turned to him slowly, pretending she hadn’t known he was standing there until that moment. “Why, hello, Billy. What a nice surprise.” Reba switched the wattage back to Cal again. “Dr. Toleffson, is it? I believe you’re Docia’s boyfriend.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cal mumbled. “That is, I’m Cal Toleffson, yes.”

  “Docia’s still sleeping down at the Woodrose Inn. I’m sure the two of you were both pretty tired.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he repeated. He felt as if he should be scuffing his toe in the dirt and blushing. Yes, ma’am, I’m the no good so-and-so who walked out on your innocent daughter. You two can get the horsewhip now.

  “Well, good, then. I’m glad you got a good night’s sleep. Docia did too.” Reba slipped into a chair across from Billy. “Why, you’ve even got scones. How lovely.”

  Cal wasn’t sure which of Docia’s parents was more disturbing, Billy with his glower or Reba with her shine. He suddenly felt like he was back in high school, confronted by Ms. McCaffrey, the absolutely terrifying principal who was his father’s boss and Cal’s worst nightmare. Whatever she wanted to know, she always managed to get Cal to tell her. He figured the Kents wanted to know what he was going to do about Docia.