“Okay, you’re right. Things haven’t gone as smoothly as either of us would have liked since you came back, and I wish like hell I could change that. So are we supposed to just crawl under rocks, Ben? Because let me tell you right now, if you decide to do that, I’m just going to move my rock closer to yours. We can choose to live in constant fear apart and fighting each other, or you can trust yourself and Flathead Falls and me to do everything possible to keep everyone safe. There’s opposition, you’re right, but we’ve got a lot on our side too. Big things on our side.”
She sighed at the words. He was always right, even when the situation wasn’t. “How do you come up with the words that actually make me want to change my mind? It’s not fair–none of this is. It’s not like I want to leave. I just know I should so you’ll be safe.”
“We’re safe, honey. You stay with us, stay with me. I don’t think I can handle you leaving me, Ben, not forever,” he admitted. “Not even short term until this gets figured out. You’re shaking so badly. You need to lie down.”
“Will you come with me?” Ben pressed her cheek to his chest for the comfort his heartbeat offered. “Just to lay with me for a while?”
“No funny business?” His humor was a sign he was easing back a little on the intensity of the moment, just like she needed for the shaking to stop.
“You’ll be safe with me,” she promised. “Scout’s honor.”
“Okay, honey,” he said, brushing more kisses to her hair. “I gotta say holding you sounds like the best thing in the whole world right now.”
“Then come on.” She broke his hug and tugged him along with her. She didn’t know when she’d be all right with not having her hands on him, making sure he was really okay, but it wasn’t going to be anytime soon.
* * * *
The kids found them an hour later, asleep in Mark’s bed under a single light cover. The adults were both fully dressed and curled together like two giant kittens. They’d heard about the fire from Thomas’s friend’s dad who was a sheriff’s deputy, and had hurried home not sure what to expect.
There’d been nothing to see outside except Ben’s car was missing and there were a few scorch marks on the shed. The security system had been armed, and Thomas had meticulously reset it upon entry.
Neither of them looked hurt. Tyler’s dad had assured him no one had been, but seeing them safe and sound was a huge relief.
“I think we get to keep her, Thomas,” Kira whispered, looking into the bedroom beside him. “I talked to her and she said they were working on grownup stuff, and Uncle Mark pretty much said the same thing when she first got here. I just wonder how long it’s going to take them to stop talking and, you know, be together.”
“Do you want that?” Thomas wanted his uncle to be happy, but never at the expense of his sister.
“Oh yeah. She’s nice, and she knows about girl stuff. And I think she loves Uncle Mark. Since Uncle Mark is kind of our dad, Ben could be like a mom.”
“We have a mom and dad.” Just the thought of their crappy, absentee parents made Thomas scowl.
“Yeah, but not really,” she answered. “Sara’s mom said Uncle Mark was better than a lot of dads and we’re freaking lucky to have him.”
“Sara’s mom has to quit cussing so much,” Thomas muttered.
“But you know what I mean. We’re a family now, but I think we’d be even better with Ben. She knows how to iron my shirts.” Kira’s tone was wistful, and Thomas realized she’d been missing having a mom more than he thought. Big brother responsibility made him want to give her all he could. He hoped Mark didn’t screw it up.
“I think he loves her,” Thomas added, tugging his sister from the door. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
“Should we wake them up?” she asked, reluctant to be pulled away, but Thomas kept on. Part of Mark not screwing up was going to be letting them have some alone time. Kira wouldn’t understand yet.
“No. Let’s get supper started.”
Kira’s disappointed expression instantly brightened. She spun toward the cabinet and started searching. “Oh, good thinking. We’ll pull an ‘Uncle Mark’. We’ll feed them, and then grill them for details. What’s a good soup for getting people to spill all the important details?”
Indulging his sister was easy, and in this case it gave Uncle Mark a few more minutes alone with Ben. “What are our choices?”
Chapter 13
Back at work with more grading, Ben wanted to scream. Piles upon piles of homework surrounded her with no end in sight. The semester was coming to a close, and she had to finish her grades by break to get report cards out on time. At least it was normal, and that was a very good thing for her sanity.
She’d opened up her inbox for late work and the kids jumped on it at the last possible moment. That meant she had four days worth of work to finish in two. She was actually contemplating asking Mark to help, but she wasn’t sure that he would.
Over the five weeks she’d lived at his house, she couldn’t help noticing he didn’t help the kids with their homework unless they asked him questions. He didn’t look over Kira’s work, didn’t read to her at night either, which had bothered Ben until she realized Kira read to Mark every night out of one of her juvenile novels.
The paperwork he kept was computerized. His notes online were particular and short, nothing detailed, but his mind was a steel trap. The man forgot nothing and even on bigger shopping trips never made lists though Ben needed one to run little errands.
Ben frowned, trying to place what really bothered her. The kids in class were studying, so she rummaged through her drawer. She found the welcome card under her planner and looked at it carefully. Mark’s name was typed. She tried to match the scribbles around the note to his name, but none did.
She thought of the menus he didn’t read, the manuals he never opened, and the church newsletters that went untouched. She’d overlooked them in their context, but maybe there was something more to the situation.
It finally came to her as she stared at the friendly little card. There was a reason behind all of Mark’s idiosyncrasies, and he hadn’t told her. She wondered if he even knew.
The day finally ended and just like always Mark waited outside the principal’s office with Kira in the car. She was talking a mile a minute before Ben even sat and she didn’t get the chance to talk to Mark about what she suspected.
When they got home he headed for his woodworking shop with Thomas at his heels. They were making Christmas presents for Thomas’s friends and Mark’s associates.
Ben fed Kira dinner and helped the little girl get the soap out of her hair during her shower. After a few stories, she tucked Kira into bed. The days were much shorter, and Kira was one of those kids who woke up ready to go, ran hard all day, and then crashed by eight o’clock. It was a beautiful trait.
Ben armed the alarm system and hurried out to the two car garage only a step from the house. Mark used the heated space as his workshop. Thomas was in the corner of the kerosene-heated building with his iPod togs in his ears, painting yet another birdhouse.
“Hi, handsome.” Ben watched a bead of sweat roll from Mark’s scalp, caught it with her finger, and wiped it on her jeans. “How’s it going out here?”
“Good,” he replied, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “We’ve got these to finish for the orders at church, then we only have the mini ones to do for gift baskets. It seems like we get a few more orders every year.”
“Very nice. You and Thomas are incredibly talented.” The workshop was messy, but filled with the clean scent of wood and sawdust even the kerosene couldn’t cover. Like everything in Mark’s work life, there was a quiet efficiency tempered with plenty of dust bunnies and a trash can that needed to be emptied.
“How’s the grading?” he asked, interrupting her musing.
“I’m half-done. Just when I think I’m making progress, I swear the stuff on the bottom reproduces. I’ll work on it for another h
our tonight, and I think I’ll be able to finish tomorrow.”
“Barring any more paperwork fornication.” His smile lifted the heaviness weighing on her heart about his secret.
“On second thought, maybe I’d better get up when you do.”
“Yeah, that might give you a little more time. It seems like everything is cutting too close.” He moved onto the next set with the smooth efficiency she admired. “Your cast comes off tomorrow too.”
“How could I forget? I can’t wait.” Her leg was well healed according to her doctor, and she dreamed of being completely brace free. “So I thought of something today.”
“Imagine that,” he teased.
“Something I hadn’t expected,” she continued. “It was kind of a surprise, but all the clues were right there the whole time.”
Mark froze and shot his oblivious nephew a look, but Thomas didn’t see it, too busy with his music and project. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes.” She hesitated, but there wasn’t a gentle way to ease into the question and there was no better time. “Mark, have you ever been tested for dyslexia or any other learning disabilities?”
The clamp in his hand fell, the metal ringing sharply on the concrete floor. He didn’t look at her, just bent over and fixed the clamp, moving on to the third before he answered, “No. I don’t have any problems. I don’t like reading or writing, but I’m not stupid.”
“Of course you aren’t stupid,” Ben gasped. “I would never ever say anything like that, but I was just thinking today–”
“Maybe don’t let your thoughts run that way again,” he suggested, moving onto the fourth birdhouse.
“Mark, I’m allowed to think whatever I want. I just asked because I’m a teacher and it’s my job to notice things like this,” she said stiffly. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Well, don’t worry about this. I’m not broken. I don’t need Super Teacher to fix me.” He finished the birdhouse and wiped glue from his hands onto his jeans. “I’m going to check the cows. I don’t want to talk about this again.”
He left, not storming out or causing a scene, but not turning back when she called his name either. She’d never imagined such a heated response. Very little bothered him and in the last two weeks since the car fire they’d gotten so close, easily telling each other everything they could think of.
He’d shared with her so much more about his childhood and the trials of raising two kids. The alcoholism he continued to fight and beat every day had come up on several occasions, and he’d been open and honest about it. The dyslexia could be an embarrassing thing in some situations, but he had to know she would never put him down.
“His dad used to call him stupid.”
She looked over to find Thomas painting with ear phones still in.
“All the time. He’d say my mom got all the brains and it was too bad there was nothing left for Mark.”
“That’s horrible,” Ben said, shocked.
“Yeah. He used to say the only thing Uncle Mark could be was a farmer, and used to stand over him at the kitchen table while he struggled to read. Mark was good at memorizing the lessons, so he’d stay up all night with Grandma to avoid getting beat,” Thomas continued. “Uncle Mark had me and Kira tested really young. I couldn’t figure out why until Grandma told me.”
“Poor Mark. You know it doesn’t matter to me, right?”
“Yeah, I mean as long as you don’t try to fix him like he said. He’s got his own way of doing things, and it works for him. He doesn’t want to learn any other way, so if you try to push him…”
“After what his father did he would probably hate me,” she finished. “I won’t. There’s no reason to change if he’s content. I just want him to be happy.”
“I know.” Thomas’s smile was much older than his sixteen years. “It’s a pretty tough spot, not just because of Grandpa. My father tried to talk my mother out of signing custody of us over to Uncle Mark because of the dyslexia. He called Uncle Mark a moron and all that crap like Grandpa did. We almost ended up in a boarding school in Sweden because of it.”
“Well, heck, isn’t your dad a scientist? He should know better.” Disbelief and disgust at the behavior of Mark’s sister and her husband just continued to grow.
“Yeah, you’d think. He’s an ass. All his associates call him a donkey, even if he’s a brilliant one. Perfection is such a big thing for them, and Mark didn’t fit the mold then, and he still doesn’t.”
Ben heard the bitterness in Thomas’s voice. Mark wasn’t the only one Thomas’s parents had rejected. She couldn’t imagine what the young man felt, knowing in the eyes of his mother and father he wasn’t worth the time and effort to raise. It was something no child should have to know, but he did. Kira did too, or would very soon.
Mark’s influence shone through in Thomas though. He was disappointed and hurt, but Thomas was also steady and disciplined. When Kira worked through her parent issues, Ben didn’t doubt Thomas would be a guiding light.
“Your uncle loves you so much, Thomas,” she told him, because even though she knew both the kids realized their positions in Mark’s heart, it never hurt to remind them. “And you are special to me. Between school and home, I’ve seen all your wonderful qualities, and you should be proud.”
“Yeah, I know. I love him too. He’s just taken a lot of crap for not reading right. From Grandpa and from Pierre, but Uncle Mark never quit. He fought for us. But the dyslexia, it’s not an easy thing for him to talk about.”
“Okay. I understand. Thanks for explaining it. How often do you listen in when we think you’re listening to music anyway?”
“Not often. Old people are basically boring.” Thomas shrugged and went back to painting.
Despite the heaviness of the topic, Ben left the garage with a smile. She wanted to chase after Mark, but she wasn’t going to leave the kids alone, not with Victoria’s threat still lingering in her mind. Mark would be back after he’d had some space. She took out her paperwork again and with newfound vigor, plowed through the papers.
When she was down to less than an inch of papers she eased back and enjoyed her cooling cocoa. The semester was nearly over and she’d survived. Now all she had to do was worry about Christmas. There were only a few gifts for her to wrap, but as soon as her papers were turned in, she’d have the time.
Stomping boots broke Ben out of her thoughts. It was after ten and Thomas had ambled through earlier and grabbed half a package of string cheese before going to bed. The house was quiet and cool, and Ben hoped Mark was ready to mimic it.
“Hey, handsome.” She gave him space when, like usual, he went to the sink first to wash his hands and get a glass of water.
“Hi.” He didn’t look at her.
Since her arrival a few things had changed in the house. The dishes were done more often and laundry was folded when it came out of the dryer, but the house was still very much the home Mark, Thomas and Kira had lived in for years. It just smelled a little better, and there were fresh cupcakes more often.
“How are the cows?” Ben asked, setting aside her pen and putting the papers in her backpack.
“Still mooing.” He dried off his hands and arms with the fresh kitchen towel. “About earlier, Ben... I was an ass. You didn’t deserve that, but I don’t want to discuss my problem. I’ll discuss anything else with you but this–”
“I understand.” She jumped to assure him, though he still looked doubtful. “Mark, I do. The only reason I even thought of it was because I was thinking how odd it was that you help in all these areas of your life, yet you aren’t the head of anything. You don’t run for county office or for the farmers association though I know you’ve been asked. I’ll just say this and then we can let the issue die, okay? Can I say one thing?”
“Okay.” He braced himself, and it hurt her heart to see him so defensive.
“If the reason you’ve never done those things is because you have a hard time reading and writing, I wou
ld be more than happy to read and write papers for you. I’d do anything to help, and we would never talk about why between us, we just wouldn’t,” she promised.
Mark turned away from her and carefully threaded the kitchen towel on the oven door handle. The whole situation embarrassed him, and because it killed her to see him so uncomfortable, she hurried to finish what needed to be said so they could move on.
“Dyslexia does not mean stupid. It doesn’t. Your dad was from a different time. He probably didn’t realize, but we know now it’s a brain thing that doesn’t connect with intelligence. You’re a smart, thoughtful man. That’s all we’ll say about it, if that’s what you want.”
“That damn boy.” Mark finally turned to her and shook his head. “I should have known he would listen and know things I’d rather he didn’t. You’re right about Dad. Please don’t think badly of him. In his way, he was trying to help. I’ve made this work, but if that other stuff comes up, I’ll let you know.”
“Good. Then we can let this die.”
“Thanks, Ben.” The softness in his eyes and the love he showed through them made her melt. “And I’m sorry again about earlier. You are a great teacher, and I’m grateful you’d want to help. I love you.”
“Well, you’ve never once made me feel bad for any of my problems, and I’m not about to do that to you.” Walking was much easier with her brace, so crossing the distance between them took no time. “I love you too much to ever try to hurt you.”
His smile turned just the slightest bit wicked, and she wondered for the millionth time what Mark Dougstat was going to be like when she got him into bed and not just for a nap. They’d cuddled and crashed a few times when the kids were at sleepovers, but other than that they’d kept things relatively innocent. Ben loved to snuggle and make out with Mark, but it was taking its toll on her.
Mark tugged her close, easing back to a minor recline against the counter so she could lean into his body, putting them hip to hip and chest to chest. His hands settled at her lower waist, just above the swell of her butt, and they would stay there too, maybe massaging a little, rubbing her sweetly.
Teaching Ms. Riggs Page 11
