by Jodi Thomas
Beau risked a glance at her. The bra she wore wasn’t much of a cover. “I-I think you look just f-fine the way you are.”
He didn’t know if she blushed, but he felt his face warm. Preachers’ kids don’t even get to look at Victoria’s Secret catalogs. He’d never seen a real girl wearing just a bra. Looking back at the road, he decided he must have some kind of fixation on breasts. If he wasn’t careful, he’d catch himself just thinking about them for no reason at all.
Willow pulled on a knit blouse and began combing her hair back. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week, Beau. I don’t get out of the late shift very often, and all my friends work, so they don’t want to do anything in the mornings when I’m free. It’ll be nice to talk to people near my own age.”
“W-who do you usually talk to?” Now that he knew what was beneath her blouse, he felt like Superman. She was fully clothed, but he could still see what was underneath. It would take a hard hit to bounce that picture out of his mind, and he planned to hold on to it as long as possible.
“I usually sit around and listen to my mom and her buddies from her work. I only had two good friends in high school, and they left for college a month ago. Now I mostly hear about the loser boyfriends my mom and her friends find. They say by the time a man’s forty, if he’s not married, a girl needs to look long and hard at him before she even dates him.”
“Your p-parents are divorced?”
“Yeah. Since I was two. I think my dad must have been her first loser boyfriend. She hardly ever talks about him. Maybe she doesn’t remember him. He was so far back in the line of men she’s bedded.”
Beau pulled up in front of an old Mission-style duplex near downtown and turned off the car. Before she could move, he said, “Willow, I-I don’t date much.” He laughed. “T-that’s an understatement. I-I don’t date at all unless you count a few group dates in middle school, and one of my p-parents was usually driving us all.”
She didn’t interrupt, but he thought she looked like she was smiling.
“I-I don’t know how this is going to go tonight, s-so do you think I could kiss you now?” He stared straight ahead and said each word slowly. “That way, if I-I do something dumb and you’re sorry you came, at least I-I will have kissed you once before you decide never to speak to me again.”
He waited, half expecting her to laugh. Asking for a kiss before an almost-date was probably dumb enough to scare her off already.
To his surprise, she leaned over and touched her lips to his.
When she didn’t move away, Beau raised his hand to the back of her neck and continued the kiss. After a few long seconds, she placed her hand on his chest and straightened away from him. “Beau, this is already the best date I’ve ever had, and whatever happens next won’t change anything.”
“Really?”
“Sure.” She laughed and climbed out of the car.
Halfway up the walk, he caught up with Willow and took her hand. Neither said a word as they walked up the stairs.
Beau spent the entire evening wondering when he could kiss her again. Willow, on the other hand, seemed to love the little dinner party. She asked all kinds of questions and offered to help Ronny with the dishes. When Beau wanted to call it a night, Border told everyone that they’d play a few songs as a thank-you for the meal.
Willow and Ronny pulled up chairs and Big leaned against the window as they began to play. As always, Beau lost himself in first one song and then another.
After a few songs, Border leaned back and listened as Beau played his guitar and sang a few pieces he’d been working on. One was about how loneliness slowly smothers a heart.
When he finally looked up, both Ronny and Willow had tears in their eyes. “Y-you didn’t like the song? It’ll be b-better when I work on it some more.”
Ronny shook her head. “I loved the song.”
Willow smiled. “So did I.”
Beau was surprised by their reactions. He didn’t know if the song would work at the bar. It really wasn’t a ‘dance to’ beat. The one he called “Smothered Heart” was just one he liked to play when he was alone.
Everyone picked up and said good night. Border offered to go with Beau to take Willow home, but his big brother jerked him toward their half of the duplex.
Now that the date was almost over, Beau wasn’t sure what to do. He thought of asking for another kiss, but he wasn’t sure if that would sound right. They drove away in silence with him thinking that when he got her home and walked her to the door, he’d just lean over and kiss her. If she didn’t want it, all she had to do was step back. If that happened, he’d probably just mumble good night and run for the car.
“Pull over there,” Willow said as she pointed to the park a block off Main.
He turned into the parking lot between the closed swimming pool and a bunch of old elms that shaded the playground equipment in summer. Half the leaves were gone from the trees, but they hadn’t lost their color. His lights flashed across a carpet of fall.
“Want to get out and walk?” she asked, already opening the door.
“Sure,” he said, thinking that walking in the park after dark didn’t seem like a real good idea, but this part of town was usually safe.
As they walked he liked the sound the leaves made beneath their feet, almost like the sound a drum makes when a brush whooshes across it.
The wind made a low howling whistle deeper into the park, and the chains on the swings clanked in time. Beau smiled. There was music in the air tonight. He thought if he listened closely he might capture it in his head.
They walked to where shadows crossed before she stopped and turned to face him. “You want to kiss me again?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.
Moving closer, she whispered, “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek and was surprised to find she was shaking. She was as nervous as he was. He leaned down and touched his mouth to hers. Her lips felt warm and so soft.
She made a little sound and then opened her mouth, and he learned a great deal about kissing real fast.
Finally, he looped his arm around her shoulder and they walked back to the car. He’d discovered that Willow didn’t know much more than he did about dating, but he sure did enjoy kissing her. Maybe they should be talking, but the silence between them was good and he didn’t stutter when he kissed.
When they were back in the car, he leaned over and kissed her again. This time he moved his hand up her side until he was almost touching her breast. She felt so good.
She didn’t seem to mind as he moved his hand along her ribs.
“I-I like this between us,” he whispered. “I like it a lot.”
“So do I,” she answered, and awkwardly planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Does this mean we’re dating?”
He brushed his hand along her throat and beneath her hair. Her skin was warm and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her there. “W-would you mind if w-we were?”
“No.” She looked down. “But, Beau, the way you play and sing, you’re gifted, really gifted. In no time girls will be throwing themselves at you. Pretty girls. Rich girls. Girls with a lot more going for them than I’ll ever have.”
“Y-you’re pretty, Willow. Real pretty.” He moved two fingers down the neck of her blouse, barely touching her skin. “I-I like the way you feel.” His fingers moved up and brushed across her lips, still wet from their last kiss.
She shook her head. “I’m just saying that when fame happens for you, I won’t hold you back. I’ll let you go and I’ll count myself lucky to have been your girl for a while.”
“M-my girl?” Beau looked at her in the moonlight and thought he should have said she was beautiful, not just pretty.
He drove her home with his arm around her shoulder. When he walked her to the door, he whispered, “Thanks.” He wasn’t sure what he was thanking her for. For going out with him. For kissing him, really kissing hi
m. For believing in him.
When he leaned down to kiss her one last time, she leaned into him and he almost couldn’t let her go. She felt so good against him. She was the one who pulled away and said good night. He let her go and walked back to his car, the lyrics to a new song already playing in his head.
Chapter 16
SHORTLY AFTER TEN O’CLOCK ADDISON MADE IT HOME TO her little house in the country. Sometime in the past few weeks she’d been thinking of it as her hideout, as if she were an outlaw running from the law and not a doctor trying to disappear from her parents.
She walked across the darkened rooms of her rented place, stripping off clothes as she headed for a warm shower. The smell of blood and antiseptic always seemed to linger on her skin after she left the emergency room. She’d just finished an eight-day work week and planned to do nothing but sleep and eat for the next three days.
Her father had tried to call twice while she was working. Addison didn’t pick up and, as always, he didn’t leave a message. He knew she rarely answered her cell when she was working, and she guessed he suspected she often didn’t return his calls even when she wasn’t at the hospital. He was also a doctor who was rarely available to family. She’d learned her communication skills from him.
If she called him back, she’d hear the same lecture she’d heard since the day she’d piled two suitcases in her little car and headed for Texas. He had plans for her. At first, he wanted her to specialize in plastic surgery and join his practice. When that campaign failed, he moved to his second line of attack. He picked out the perfect man for her to marry. When she’d objected, he’d insisted that Dr. Glen Davidson was everything her first husband was not.
He’d told her simply, “You could do little better than a top-notch researcher on his way to being a legend in his field. If you ask me, Addison, you’re lucky he’s willing to take a look at you.”
She’d felt like a shelter dog being paraded in front of the dog show judges as the bad example.
Addison was glad she hadn’t called her father back. She’d had a lifetime of never quite measuring up, and she didn’t need to be reminded of her failures after a long work week. When she’d been growing up, his lectures over her shortcomings had hurt far more than any belt. The carrot before her, just out of reach, had always been his love, but no matter what she did she never quite deserved it. She’d tried escaping once into an early marriage. She’d found a hell even lower than what she’d known at home. This time when she broke the ties to her father, she’d walk away strong enough to stand alone.
As was her habit every night, she stood under a warm shower until the water grew cool, then pulled on a clean pair of underwear and an old college T-shirt. She needed sleep. Everything could wait until morning, including her father’s weekly lecture. Though he’d talk for fifteen minutes, the summary boiled down to grow up—come home—get married to Glen. Her life had all been planned and organized for her, and no one understood why she’d taken this one-year assignment in the middle of nowhere. No one but Addison.
The last time she’d run, she’d been eighteen and rushed to the first guy who’d paid any attention to her. The marriage lasted less than six months. Her father’s constant reminder of her mistake hung in the air between her and her parents forever.
In her young husband, she’d thought she had a friend she could trust, but neither of them knew about love or loving. After a few awkward attempts at sex, he gave up and shifted his full attention to spending her savings. She’d known the marriage was a mistake after a week, but she’d hung on, hoping something would happen and she wouldn’t have to go home. When the money was gone, so was her first husband.
She closed her eyes, remembering how he’d hit her several times as he’d packed. He’d even screamed at her, more out of frustration than hate. She’d made a mistake in marrying, and somehow he’d blamed her for all their problems. In a way, he was like her father; he blamed her for not being good enough. She’d had no choice but to go back to her parents, not only bruised but broken.
As Addison combed her wet hair, she thought about how that time in her life seemed more like a dream than real, or maybe a nightmare. She’d turned off all feelings that winter, and now not even regret haunted her. She’d welcomed her parents making all her decisions. When they’d sent her to New England to school, she’d let the cold weather seep into her heart as well.
Only this time when she’d run to Texas to work, she had no regrets except that soon she’d have to go back and make choices she wasn’t ready to make. In a few months she’d have to face her father and tell him she planned to live her own life. There would be no engagement to Glen, and she’d never work with her father.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, the curtain blew in the night breeze along with the hint of fall in the air.
She took a long breath, thinking of how much she loved the stillness of this place. If she could bottle it, she’d take it always with her wherever she went.
The triangle of light from the bathroom spread across something in the middle of her bed as if spotlighting it on a darkened stage. Addison froze.
She thought it might be an animal. It could have crawled in, not knowing or caring that the house was occupied, or maybe the kittens were out of their box in the kitchen and old enough to explore. She’d left food for the mother cat in the garage, but she hadn’t returned.
Addison took a step toward the bed.
The shadow moved slightly, and she saw that it was a small child. A little boy curled up next to one of the kittens Tinch had found in her barn. She could make out the boy’s dirty face and sandy hair. His chest moved in the slow rhythm of someone deep in sleep.
Addison backed out of the room and grabbed her cell. She waited until she reached the porch, then dialed 911.
When the dispatcher picked up, she said calmly, “This is Dr. Spencer. I’d like to speak to the sheriff, please.”
“She’s on a call. How can I help you?” The dispatcher sounded bored.
Addison didn’t feel like repeating her story to first him and then the sheriff. Her tone grew hard and impersonal. “This is Dr. Spencer. I need to talk to the sheriff.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the dispatcher answered. “I’ll patch you directly to her cell.”
Addison glanced back into the house. She could barely make out the boy, but he was still sleeping.
“Sheriff Matheson here.”
Addison was used to talking to cops who only wanted facts. “This is Addison Spencer. I’m out on Timber Line Road and I’ve just found a child sleeping in my bed.”
There was a pause, a few muffled words, and then the sheriff was back on the line. “I’m on my way.”
The phone went dead. Addison looked at it for a moment, feeling like the sheriff must have left out a piece of the plan. Then she noticed the lights at Turner’s place to the south. He looked like he was having a party. Every light in the house was burning bright. She watched what looked like a police car speed away from his house.
Addison reached for her lab coat as the car turned into her long driveway a minute later. Something was definitely going on.
Tinch and the sheriff climbed out of the cruiser and ran to the porch. In a low voice Alex explained what had happened. She ended with, “We’ll wake him up and take him back to Tinch’s place if he’ll go. If not, I don’t know what I’m going to do with him this time of night. If I call in Child Protective Services, it will be a few hours before they get here.”
Addison frowned. “Has anyone examined the boy?”
“Not yet. The night shift has its hands full dealing with his mother’s suicide and the drugs we found scattered around her place. At last report she had no next of kin to notify.”
Addison was all business. “I’ll take a look at the boy. If he’s been living in a trailer with rats, there’s no telling what he’s been through.” She looked at Tinch as if just noticing the cowboy standing beside the sheriff.
She had no idea w
hy he was involved in this mess, but he might as well help. “Why don’t you make a few of those egg sandwiches you’re famous for, and a pot of coffee? When I’m finished, I’d like to make sure he eats something before you take him back.”
She disappeared into the house.
“Bossy, isn’t she?” Addison heard Tinch comment. “Expects her orders to be followed, I’m guessing.”
“She’s right,” the sheriff said. “I should have had him checked out at the hospital first. I was just thinking about how frightened he looked and how being with you might help. I was worried more about him having just lost his mother than what would be the usual procedures in a case like this.”
“Bringing him to my place obviously didn’t work.” Tinch walked into the house and headed for the kitchen. “You want an egg sandwich, Sheriff? Four are no harder to make than two, and I plan to have one.”
“Sure, but I need to call Phil Gentry and tell him he can call it a night. He’s been on overtime for five hours. There’s no sense having him waiting at your place if we know the boy is here.”
“Tell him to turn off the lights when he leaves, would you?”
Tinch walked to the bedroom door and saw Addison in the shadows. The only light was a yellow slice from the bathroom. She looked like a ghost in her white coat and pale skin and hair, but there was a kindness, a gentleness in the way she touched the boy.
“Jamie,” she said as her hand brushed his shoulder. “Jamie, are you all right?”
The little boy moved and looked up at the doc. Tinch expected him to bolt, but he just stared at her with eyes almost too big for his thin face.
“You’re an angel, aren’t you?” he said. “My mommy said if she ever went away an angel would come take care of me. She’d watch over me and make sure no one would hurt me.”
“Then I’m your angel, Jamie.” Addison clicked on the nightstand light. “I’m here to help you, but first I have to make sure you’re not hurt.”
“The bad guys didn’t hurt me when they came this time ’cause I hid real good, but I think they hurt my mommy. I heard her scream a few times, and then they came out and looked around. I don’t think they knew I was there.” The tiny boy moved into her arms, and for a few minutes Addison just held him. “She told me never to bother her when she was asleep with the door closed, so I didn’t, even when I got hungry.
