“The most valuable thing was the pair of shoes, and I put them in there myself. They weren’t originally in the suitcase.”
Marbury flipped his pad closed. “That’s it, then. If you see them again, call immediately, but they got what they came for, so I think they’re long gone.”
With the distance of a night’s sleep between now and then, Cate agreed with him. She was much calmer today, and beginning to wish she hadn’t asked her mother to take the boys home with her, but she had started that train rolling, so she would let their plans proceed, since the boys were so excited about going to visit Mimi.
Shrieks abruptly splintered the air, and Cate, long used to the different qualities in her children’s yells, interpreted these as shrieks of joy. “They must have spotted Mr. Harris,” she told Marbury. “They love his toolbox.”
“That’s understandable,” he said, grinning. “A boy, a hammer—what’s not to love?”
They went out of the den and watched Calvin coming down the stairs, preceded by the twins who jumped and danced in front of him. “Mommy!” Tucker said, spotting her. “Mr. Hawwis let us hold his dwill!”
“D
r
ill,” Cate automatically corrected, meeting Calvin’s gaze, which was as calm and steady as always.
“D
r
ill,” Tucker repeated, grabbing the hammer loop on the side of Calvin’s pant leg and tugging at it.
“Stop pulling at Mr. Harris’s clothes,” she said, “before you tear them off.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she felt her face begin to heat. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t blushed in years, but it seemed as if she’d done nothing
but
blush since yesterday. Everything seemed to have a double meaning, or seem overtly sexual, and, yes, the prospect of tearing Calvin’s clothes off definitely seemed sexual.
The realization stunned her.
Calvin? Sexual?
Because he’d saved them yesterday? Was she casting him in a heroic role and, in the time-honored male-female way, subconsciously responding to that display of strength? She’d taken some anthropology courses, because they’d seemed interesting, so she knew the dynamics of sexual instincts. That had to be it. Women responded to strong, powerful, or heroic men. In caveman days, that had meant higher chances of survival. Women didn’t have to do that now, but the old instincts remained; how else could one explain the allure of Donald Trump for so many women?
The rationalization relaxed her. Now that she knew what was causing this unusual sensitivity, she could deal.
She introduced the twins to Marbury, and of course they immediately noticed his pistol and were wide-eyed with awe that he was a policeman, though they were disappointed he wasn’t wearing a uniform. At least they were distracted long enough for Cate to ask Calvin, “How much do I owe you?”
He fished the receipt for the lock from his pocket, and gave it to her. Their fingers brushed, and she fought a quiver that wanted to shake her entire body, as abruptly she remembered those strong hands holding the shotgun, his finger tightening on the trigger. She also remembered the way he’d held her and Neenah afterward, his arms warm and reassuring around them, his lean body surprisingly hard and sturdy inside the baggy coveralls.
Oh, damn. She was blushing again.
And he wasn’t.
“SO,” HER MOTHER SAID CASUALLY THAT NIGHT AS THEY were sitting on the boys’ beds and packing their things, “is something going on between you and Calvin Harris?”
“No!” Stunned, Cate almost dropped the pair of jeans she’d been folding and stared at her mother. “What gave you that idea?”
“Just…something.”
“Like what?”
“The way you two are together. Sort of awkward, and sneaking looks at each other.”
“I haven’t been sneaking looks.”
“If I weren’t your mother, that righteously indignant tone might work. As it is, I know you too well.”
“Mom! There’s nothing going on. I’m not—I haven’t—” She stopped and laid her hands in her lap, smoothing her fingers over the small garment. “Not since Derek died. I’m not interested in going out with anyone.”
“You should be. It’s been three years.”
“I know.” And she did—but knowing something and doing it were two different things. “It’s just—so much of my time and energy is taken up with the boys and this place…adding something else, someone else, to the mix would be more than I could handle. And I haven’t been sneaking looks,” she added. “I was worried today about giving a statement to Marbury because I didn’t know if Calvin had told him about hitting Huxley on the head. If I ‘sneaked’ a look at him, it was because of that.”
“He looks at you.”
Now Cate had to laugh. “And probably blushes while he looks away as fast as he can. He’s very shy. I think I’ve heard him say more in the past two days than I have in the rest of the time we’ve lived here. Don’t read more into it than is there. He probably sneaks looks at everyone.”
“No, he doesn’t. I haven’t noticed he’s particularly shy, either. When he was putting the new lock on the attic door and the boys were practically crawling all over him, he was chatting with me like he does with Sherry and Neenah.”
Cate paused, remembering that she’d overheard Calvin chatting with Sherry. Evidently there were some people he felt comfortable with, but she herself obviously wasn’t one of them. The thought caused an odd little pain in the pit of her stomach. Instinctively shying away from examining the cause, she forced herself back to the conversation. “Anyway. Before you start scheming to throw us together, think for a minute: neither of us is exactly a good catch. I’m chronically broke, and I have two children. He’s a handyman. No one is beating down our doors.”
Sheila’s lips twitched as she fought a smile. “Then you’d probably make a good couple, since you’re so evenly matched.”
Cate didn’t know whether to feel amused or horrified. She was now on a handyman’s level? She hadn’t been raised to be a snob, but she’d worked in the corporate world, and she had ambitions. They weren’t great ambitions, but they did exist. As far as she could see, Calvin was perfectly content to be what he was. On the other hand, given her chosen occupation of owning and operating a bed-and-breakfast, what could be handier than having her own handyman? God knows she couldn’t have survived without him these past three years.
She gave a spurt of laughter. “Well, I
have
considered asking him to move in.”
Her mother blinked in surprise.
“Giving him room and board in exchange for free repairs,” Cate explained, laughing again as she got up to get the boys’ underwear out of their dresser drawers. While she was up she stuck her head out the door to check on the boys, who were playing with their cars and trucks in the hallway. She had put them out there so she and her mother could get their clothes packed without them helping, which would have guaranteed mayhem. They were building some sort of fort with their blocks, and crashing their cars into it. That should keep them safely occupied for a while.
“Sweetheart, it
is
time to consider beginning to go out with men again,” Sheila continued. “Though God knows the pickings here are so slim Calvin is just about all there is. If you moved back to Seattle—”
Ah, there it was, the real reason behind her mother’s sudden interest in Calvin. Cate made a rueful face. This was just another campaign to convince her to leave
Cate waited until she paused for breath, then reached out and touched her hand. “Mom, of all the advice you’ve ever given me, do you know what I treasure the most?”
Sheila drew back a little, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “No, what?”
“When Derek died, you told me a lot of people would be giving me advice about living and dating and so on, and not to listen to any of them, not even you, because grief had its own timetable and it was different for everyone.”
If there was anything Sheila hated, it was having her own words turned back on her. “Well, good God!” she said in a tone of total disgust. “Don’t tell me you fell for that profound claptrap!”
Cate burst out laughing and pitched backward across Tanner’s bed, both fists raised in victory.
Sheila threw a pair of balled-up socks at her. “Ungrateful wretch,” she muttered.
“Yes, I know: you were in labor for twenty days—”
“Twenty
hours.
It just seemed like days.”
Both boys came running in. “Mommy, what’s funny?” Tucker demanded, jumping onto the bed with her.
“What’s funny?” Tanner echoed, jumping to the other side of her.
Cate wrapped her arms around them. “Mimi is. She’s been telling me funny stories.”
“What kind of stories?”
“About when I was a little girl.”
Their eyes got big and round. Their mommy being a little girl was a concept that was just too unbelievable. “Mimi knew you then?” Tucker asked.
“Mimi is Mommy’s mommy,” Cate said, glad she didn’t have to say that ten times really fast. “Just like I’m your mommy.”
She saw Tanner’s lips move as he silently repeated the words
Mommy’s mommy.
He stuck his finger in his mouth as he regarded Sheila with laser-beam intensity.
“I feel like a zoo animal,” Sheila complained.
“Zoo?” Tanner asked around his finger, his interest caught.
“Zoo! Mimi’s taking us to the zoo!” Tucker shouted with glee.
“Trapped,” said Cate, grinning at Sheila.
“Ha ha. I happen to think that’s a great idea. We certainly will go to the zoo,” she promised firmly. “If you behave and go to bed when you’re supposed to.”
Once the boys saw her putting their clothes in their suitcases, the jig was up, as Cate had known it would be. Their excitement almost fizzed out of control. They started dragging out the toys they wanted to take with them, which of course would have required chartering a plane for that purpose alone. Cate let Sheila handle the situation, since she would be in charge of them for the next couple of weeks and the boys needed to get even more in the habit of listening to her.
Finally they were packed, with a limit of two toys each. By then they were winding down, and Cate left Sheila to the chore of getting them bathed and into their pajamas while she went downstairs and tackled the job of switching their car seats from her Explorer to Sheila’s rental. She should have done that in the daylight, she thought after wrestling with the straps and buckles in the overhead dome’s dim light. Finally the seats were secure, and she trudged back inside to make name and address tags for the seats, since they would have to be checked in to the plane’s luggage hold. She made another trip outside to put the tags on the seats.
The September night was chilly, and Cate wished she’d grabbed a jacket before going out. She paused for a moment, staring up at the star-shot sky. The air was so clear there seemed to be thousands of stars hanging overhead, many more than she’d seen anywhere else.
The night surrounded her, but it wasn’t silent. The roar of the river was constantly in the background, accompanied by the rustle of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees. The uppermost branches were already starting to turn color; fall was coming fast, and as winter took hold, business would slack off to the point that some weeks she wouldn’t have any paying guests at all. Maybe she should start serving lunch during the slow season, she thought. Just simple stuff, like soups and stews, sandwiches; they were easy to make and would keep some money coming in. When snow was two and three feet deep on the ground, the promise of hot soup or stew or chili would bring the citizens of Trail Stop over. Heck, it might even bring Conrad and Gordon Moon in from their ranch.
Sheila’s question about
him
? The idea was almost laughable—and yet it wasn’t. She had two small children. A lot of men didn’t want to get involved with women who had children from a previous marriage.
But why was she even thinking this way about
She shoved the whole subject away. It was nuts, and she was nuts for letting herself obsess about it. She should be making plans for the next two weeks.
While the boys were gone, she could get some things done, such as clean out the freezer and pantry, and pile rocks around the circumference of the parking lot to make it more official-looking than just some gravel spread around. She could go through their clothes and pack up the things that were too small or too worn, and put them in the attic. She should probably donate the clothes to a shelter or something, but she couldn’t bring herself to part with their things yet. She still had all their baby clothes, the tiny onesies, the bibs and socks and adorable little shoes. Maybe by the time they started school, she would get over this ridiculous attachment to their outgrown clothing; if she didn’t, she could foresee the entire house being used as storage.
Yes, she had a lot with which to occupy herself while the boys were gone. Maybe she’d be so tired at the end of the day she wouldn’t be in tears from missing them so much.
That reminded her that if she didn’t get inside in a hurry, they would already be asleep. She wouldn’t have the opportunity to tuck them in and read them a story for the next two weeks, so she didn’t want to miss tonight.
Sheila was just getting them into their pajamas when Cate entered the steamy bathroom. “All clean,” Tucker said, beaming up at her.
She bent to kiss the top of his head, hugging him close and then straightening with him in her arms. He snuggled close, his head on her shoulder, making her heart squeeze at the knowledge that these days were flying by and soon they would be too big for her to pick up—not that they’d want her to. By then they probably wouldn’t want her hugging and kissing them, either.