LOVING ELLIE (10 page)

And she’d been pregnant.

He’d kept a tight rein on his desire that summer, even knowing by her own admission he wouldn’t be her first.  He wanted Victoria to know that his intentions were honorable.  That he wanted more where she was concerned.  He had wanted forever.

Blaine snorted at the foolishness of his youthful expectations.  He should have given in to what they both wanted.  But then who was to say Victoria wouldn’t have tried to pin her son on him.  She’d already gone so far as to name her boy after him instead of the man who had actually fathered him.

He thought back to that day at his office when she had come to ‘confess her sins’ so to speak.  Despite what she’d said about marrying J.B.’s biological father for her son’s sake and nothing more, she had remained with the man for nearly ten years.  That was a long time to stay with a man she supposedly had no feelings for. 

Blaine’s gut tightened when he thought about the man she had wed in his place.  One who’d gotten to share her life.  Her bed.  A man who’d given her the child Blaine had someday hoped to give her. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly drove right past the Winters’ place.  Stepping on the brakes, he made a sharp turn up the gravel drive.  His gaze shifted as he took in his surroundings.  The fence he’d repaired was still intact, so whatever the emergency was this time around it didn’t include runaway cows.

Myra hadn’t been very explanatory when she’d called his office, simply said she needed his help again.  When he questioned her further, she’d gotten flustered and told him to disregard her call.  She apologized for taking up his time when he had more important matters to contend with and that she would figure something out.  He found himself assuring her it wouldn’t be a bother, that he had nothing pressing going on that morning.  A response he wanted to kick himself in the seat of his pants for the second he’d hung up the phone.  But as it was now, he had committed to seeing the call through.

He pulled up to the house, cut the engine and stepped from the car.  No one came out to greet him, so he made his way up onto the front porch and knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again, harder.

Nothing.

He had just stepped over to look in through the window when Myra called out to him from the distant barn.

“Sheriff Cooke!”

Turning, he made his way down the rickety old porch steps, hurrying toward the older woman.  He noted the blanket draped over her arm. 

“I’m so glad you came,” she said a bit breathless.  “I tried to lift the ladder, but it was too heavy.  And I couldn’t toss this blanket up high enough to reach her.”

Her.
  He didn’t have to ask who the ‘
her
’ was Myra was referring to.  He already knew – Victoria.

“Calm down,” he said, trying to make sense of her words.  “Where is your niece?”

“Victoria’s stuck in the barn and it’s so cold in there,” she said worriedly.

How did one get stuck in a barn?  Then he recalled her mentioning something about picking up a ladder and not being able to toss the blanket up high enough and his frown from earlier returned.  “She’s in the loft?”

The older woman nodded emphatically, her frown matching his own.  “I thought she was sleeping late, so imagine my surprise when I came out to the barn and found her up there.”

The Victoria he knew wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the loft.  She was afraid of heights.  Or was she?  It wouldn’t be the first time he learned she had misled him with the facts.

Shaking his head, he started for the barn.  What sort of game was she playing now?  Did she care at all about the stress her constant little ‘mishaps’ was putting her aunt under?

“Sheriff...”

He stopped and turned as Myra scurried up beside him.

“Now that Victoria’s in capable hands, I need to go see to her son.”  She handed him the blanket.  “She’ll be needing this.”

He watched her go, fighting the urge to call her back.  The last thing he wanted to do was face Victoria and all the emotions she had stirred up in him again – good and bad.  But Myra had her hands full between her ailing husband and the troublesome pair now living there.

Blaine let himself into the barn, his gaze going immediately to the heavy wooden ladder lying atop the straw-littered floor.  As he moved to inspect it, the toe of his boot sent a rusted old bolt skittering across the wood planks at his feet.

“Blaine?”  Her soft gasp drew his gaze upward to find Victoria peering down at him, bits of straw clinging to her hair, her cheeks tinged pink.  With another gasp, she disappeared from sight. 

He crossed his arms and stood staring up at the loft.  “What are you up to now, Victoria?”

“Please go away,” she called down from the darkened shadows of her perch.

“Can’t,” he replied.  “I’m here on official duty.  Your aunt called for my assistance.”

His gaze slid over the gaping holes in the barn beam where the ladder had previously been secured.  The fact that there was no splintered wood around the edges told him the ladder hadn’t been kicked away on purpose.  He glanced down, noting the remaining bolt that dangled from one of the two holes along the top rung.  No rust to indicate the bolt had weakened, causing it to break away.  So how had it fallen?

It was then he saw it, sticking out from a pile of loose hay under the loft - a large wrench.  Anger sluiced through him.  Victoria had stranded herself up there on purpose.  Of all the foolish things to do!

“I should leave you up there,” he snarled.

“Please do,” she replied.

He was tempted.  Real tempted.  But that would leave Myra to try and help her down again.  What if her aunt was injured in the process? 

Muttering a curse, he tossed the blanket aside and bent to grab onto the heavy ladder, lifting it slowly.  He set it back in place and then walked over to pick up the bolt he’d kicked away.  Then picking up the wrench, he made his way carefully up the ladder until he reached the top.

Victoria sat against the back wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped snuggly around them, shivering.  Shivering because she was wearing nothing heavier than a silken robe and the barn wasn’t heated.

His belief that she had done this on purpose changed the second he saw her face.  Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks.  “Victoria...” he said, concern replacing his ire.

“I told you to go away,” she said with a sob, her head dropping down onto her bent knees.

Setting the wrench and bolts down on the floor of the loft, he eased off the ladder, careful not to send it crashing back down to the barn floor, and moved to gather her in his arms.  Her skin was like ice beneath the thin robe she wore. 

“What are you doing up here?” he asked as he attempted to rub some warmth back into her arms.

Her only response was a series of shivers.

Why hadn’t he thought to grab the blanket before coming up to fetch her?  Myra had warned him she’d be cold.  He gathered her closer and pressed his face to her hair, breathing in the scent of her. 

She snuggled closer, burying her arms under his coat, around his waist.  The movement so natural.  So right.

“If you wanted to see me again, you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” he mumbled as his lips brushed over the mussed copper strands.

Her head snapped up.  “Wh...what?”

“Unbolting the ladder,” he said as his hand moved to wipe a tear from her icy cheek.  “What if your aunt hadn’t found you?  You might have frozen to death up here.”  He wanted her gone not dead.

“Y...you think I did this?” she chattered as she pushed away.

Yes, he did.  His gaze dropped to her long legs where a pair of fur-trimmed snow boots had been carelessly pulled on, not even laced up as they should have been.  What had she been thinking?  She could’ve slipped just climbing up the ladder with her boot untied the way they were. 

Blaine’s frown deepened as his gaze lifted.  “If you didn’t do this then who did?  Your aunt?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his voice.  “Am I supposed to believe she unscrewed the bolts bracing the ladder to the loft and then yanked it to the floor, leaving you stranded up here?  Because she’s the only other person who knows you’re up here.”

“Not the only one,” Victoria admitted, turning away.

Her uncle wouldn’t have had the strength to even lift the wrench much less undo the bolts.  That left only one other possibility...

“J.B.,” he gasped, his tone condemning.  That would explain Myra’s rush to get back to the house to check on the boy.  And it would also explain the heartbreak he’d seen in Victoria’s eyes.  “Just wait until I get my hands on that little-”

Her head whipped back around, her expression almost fearful.  “Don’t you dare touch my son!  It’s not his fault.” 

As if he really intended to do physical harm to her son.  “Then whose is it?”

“Mine.”  She clamored to her feet, clutching at her robe with trembling hands.  “I ruined his life.  I deserve his anger.”

Her reply stunned him.  Pulling off his coat, he closed the distance between them and wrapped it around her shivering shoulders.  “Cutting the pasture fence was one thing, but unbolting the loft ladder isn’t something that can just be brushed aside.  What if it had given way while you were climbing up it?  You could’ve broken your neck.”

“I know,” she sobbed as she clung to his coat and the warmth it provided.

He pulled her to him, plucking the straw bits from her hair as he held her.  “How did he get you up here in the first place?  I thought you hated heights.”

“J.B. and I had an argument about the divorce this morning,” she sobbed.  “He ran out.  I’d never seen him so upset.  When he didn’t come back, I threw on my boots and went looking for him.”

“Out in the cold dressed like that?”

“My state of dress was the furthest thing from my mind.  All that mattered to me at that moment was finding my son.  I followed him to the barn, but when I went inside and called out to him he didn’t answer. Then I saw the donut he’d been eating when he ran out lying on the barn floor at the foot of the ladder.”

“So you went up to the loft to look for him?” he said, more of a statement than a question.  “That ladder had to be barely attached to the support.”

“It was a little loose, but I figured it was old and all I could think about was finding J.B.”

Blaine muttered a low curse.

“I took my time going up it,” she said as if that made it any better.  Her gaze shifted to the edge of the loft where it dropped off into the barn below and she shuddered.  “A second or two after I reached the loft, I heard a loud banging and then a heavy thud.”

“J.B. dislodged the ladder,” he finished for her.  Which wouldn’t have taken much effort seeing as how the bolts had already been loosened for that very purpose.

“Yes.”

Releasing her, he walked over and picked up the wrench and the discarded bolts and set to work reattaching the ladder to the loft beam.  “I’ll come back by this week sometime and secure this better with some mounting brackets.”

He worked fast, needing to get Victoria out of the cold.  Twenty minutes later, they were greeted by the warmth of the old ranch house. 

“I’m sorry you had to come out here for this,” she said as she removed his coat and held it out to him.

I’m not.

“I need to have a word with your son before I leave.”

“Blaine, please.  Just let it go.”

“I can’t do that, Victoria,” he replied with a frown.  “Now either I have a word with him here, or I take him into town to my office.”

“You wouldn’t,” she gasped.

To prevent the boy’s anger from causing her or the Winters harm, he certainly would. 

“Let him talk to the boy,” her aunt said as she came down the stairs to join them.  “Maybe he can talk some sense into J.B.”

Victoria looked ready to cry again as she nodded her consent.

Myra led him upstairs to the room Victoria’s son was staying in.  The boy was seated at the edge of the bed, his back to the door.  His arms were crossed, his posture rigid.

“J.B.,” Myra called out, “Sheriff Cooke here wants to have a few words with you.”

“Go away!”

“I wish I could,” Blaine said.  “But that little stunt you pulled on your mom out in the barn this morning needs to be addressed.”

Myra cast a worried glance across the room before taking her leave and closing the door behind her.

“Your mother could have broken her neck climbing up that ladder this morning,” Blaine said as he moved toward the bed.  “Was that your intention?”

“I didn’t knock it down until she was off it,” the boy said in his own defense, much to Blaine’s relief.  At least, he hadn’t been trying to cause Victoria harm.

“So why’d you do it?”

J.B.’s booted feet scuffed at the bed rail.  “Because I wanted her to know what it feels like to be invisible, like I’ve always been to my dad.”

What kind of life had Victoria and her son led before coming to Eagle Ridge?  Despite the boy’s unacceptable actions towards his mother, his heart went out to both of them.