A Wife For Ben
A Wife For Ben
Cheryl Wolverton
THE GOOD NEIGHBOR–ACTUALLY, THE BESTA woman couldn' t ask for a better neighbor than Ben Mayeaux. He' d saved Stephanie Webber and her daughter from their burning house, and this single mom couldn' t thank him enough. Kind, strong and handsome, Ben had opened his home to them and helped in more ways than she could count, and soon Stephanie' s feelings were taking on a more-than-neighborly slant.When days of healing and house repair turned into tender evenings, Stephanie wondered if this tried-and-true bachelor' s home–and heart– would open permanently to a wife and rambunctious five-year-old.And if they did, could she heal her own past wounds, and love again?
“This is so much to take in,” Stephanie said.
Ben crossed the room, his forehead creasing into a small frown. His strides were long and quick as he closed the distance between them. Before she knew it, he’d reached up and clasped her shoulders. Squeezing them gently, he held her.
The warmth of the long, curved hands providing support and understanding was her undoing. She shuddered, and a sob escaped.
Mortified, she tried to pull away, not knowing why the floodgates of Hoover Dam had suddenly opened. Ben wouldn’t let her. Pulling her in to his chest, he wrapped his large arms around her. “This has been coming for a long time,” he said. “Let it out.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but his words had the desired effect. Her arms going around him, gripping to keep her from sliding into a puddle at his feet, she cried.
CHERYL WOLVERTON
RITA
Award finalist Cheryl Wolverton has well over a dozen books to her name. Her very popular HILL CREEK, TEXAS, series has been a finalist in many contests. Having grown up in Oklahoma, lived in Kentucky, Texas and now Louisiana, Cheryl and her husband of twenty years and their two children, Jeremiah and Christina, consider themselves Oklahomans who have been transplanted to grow and flourish in the South. Readers are always welcome to contact her via: P.O. Box 207, Slaughter, LA 70777 or e-mail at Cheryl@cherylwolverton.com. You can also visit her Web site at www.cherylwolverton.com.
A Wife for Ben
Cheryl Wolverton
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
He will not forget your work and the love
you have shown Him as you helped His people and continue to help them.
—Hebrews 6:10
Writing a book is always a fun process. And the acknowledgments are always something I like to do. I want to thank the librarians—all three of them—from Pride Branch in Pride, Louisiana. They were so helpful in finding the information I needed.
I would like to acknowledge Christina Wolverton.
Also Jeremiah Wolverton and my husband, Steve—a wonderful man. Without him, I wouldn’t be able to find my computer on some days!
Dear Reader,
Not too far from here there is a town called Pride, Louisiana. I thought it would make a wonderful setting for a story. Pride represents any small town, perhaps even the one that you live in. Its residents are everyday folk, people that you know.
In Pride and other communities all over the world, people become heroes by their simple actions. Giving a cup of water to someone who is thirsty or calling someone who is in the hospital or visiting someone who lives by himself or herself can be in itself a heroic act. You don’t have to save someone from a burning building or from something horrific to be a hero. Sometimes the simplest act of kindness is heroic to the person who receives it.
I’m sure we all can come up with someone who is an everyday hero to us. Take time to let those people in your life know how much you appreciate them. Let them know how much they mean to you. And remember that by helping someone, you might just become an everyday hero, too!
Blessings,
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter One
When you think life is going along just fine, life pulls an April fool.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
I still can’t believe it. Here I am, Ben Mayeaux, standing at the altar, about to commit myself to the best person I could have ever met.
Instant family.
I’ll have a five-year-old stepdaughter.
Who would have thought?
A staid and sure bachelor at thirty-eight years old. Not husband material. Not father material. And certainly not hero material.
At least, not until that day that turned my world on its axis like a top out of control…
Let me tell you about it.
Push it, Ben. Almost halfway there.
Sneakered feet pounded the asphalt as Ben Mayeaux worked to make the four miles. Ahead he saw the tree that marked the two miles where he would turn and head back to his house.
It was still dark in the predawn hours in Pride, Louisiana, dark and already humid. A thick early-morning fog was starting to build and cover the road where he ran, filling the wooded pine forests around him, making his feet echo hollowly as he pounded onward.
Come on, Ben. You can do it, just like when you were twenty. So, what if you’re thirty-eight, nearly thirty-nine. You’re at your best right now, at your prime. You have everything in life you want.
In and out, in and out, his breathing continued, if a bit labored.
He might feel like he was still twenty, but his body was telling him he should have called it quits at the mile marker.
He reached the turnaround point and headed down the road, inhaling the scent of crisp budding pines and exhaling in cadence with his running.
Pace yourself, Ben. You can do it.
Inhale…pound, pound, pound…exhale…pound, pound, pound.
Inhale…pound, pound… What was that smell? He continued another mile inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling, as the smell got stronger.
Distracted by the scent of wood burning so early on a spring morning, Ben slowed, glancing about. Stumbling to a halt, he bent, dropping his hands to his knees and inhaling as he tried to catch his breath. The odd smell was a good excuse to stop, and he didn’t have to admit he wasn’t as young as he used to be.
Ah, age. The wonderful joys of it. He was satisfied with all he had, where he was in life and everything else. But his body told him he was getting older.
Lifting his head, he again inhaled.
Yeah. Definitely wood smoke.
He wondered who would be outside burning trash or dead trees this early in the morning. The haze of dawn was just rearing its head. Walking forward to cool down until he caught his breath, he glanced around, speculating just who else might be up this early.
The road was deserted except for the shift workers who left around five to make it into Baton Rouge for shift change. Soon he’d be seeing buses as the local schools got ready to pick up kids for class. Then the everyday crowd of cars heading into Baton Rouge, the only place that really had a job market around, would finally start making its way toward town.
Pride, with a population of a few thousand, and neighboring Zachary, with less than ten thousand, certainly couldn’t support them selves.
So most folks traveled into Baton Rouge for work.
Taking a deep inhalation of the muggy morning he searched again, wondering just who might be up. It was possible a straight day, eight-to-five worker had some chores that needed doing and was performing them before he left for work.
But Ben didn’t have that many neighbors. Along this road there were maybe six houses in a six-mile area.
A haze caught his attention. That way, he realized, spotting where the haze drifted from. He instinctively started off the road toward the nearest neighbor he had. A woman lived there, if he remembered correctly. He’d seen her out occasionally in the evening when he ran. She was usually taking out trash or heading into the house. Sometimes he’d spotted her trying to clear out the front garden.
A cold chill worked its way up his sweat-covered body as he walked partway up the two-hundred-yard driveway. It wasn’t like him to interfere with neighbors. He was a bachelor and a loner and liked it that way. But he couldn’t picture this woman out at dawn burning excess wood as she cleared away her yard. And if that wasn’t enough to cause his unease to grow, the fact that few people had fireplaces and those that did didn’t use them in spring-time—unless they were crazy—really caused his spine to tingle with foreboding.
He’d just take a quick peek to see what she was doing and make sure she was okay and…
And call for help, he realized as he saw smoke billowing from the side of the house.
The back part of the house was in flames.
His heart leaped to his throat as he realized he was witnessing a house fire. He rushed to the front door and pounded on it. The sound of crackling flames could be heard echoing in the early-morning stillness.
Ben couldn’t perceive any movement inside the house. He hit the doorbell, then quickly pounded again. “Fire! Get up!” he called.
Impatiently he stood on his toes to peek in the door window.
He should call the fire department, but it was over a mile to his house. And he knew the woman had to be in there, most likely asleep. Her car was in the driveway.
Glancing around, he saw a flowerpot on her front porch.
He grabbed it and slammed it through the spacious front bay window. “Anyone home? Fire!” he called, all the while clearing the glass from around the frame with the red clay pot.
As soon as he had a spot cleared, he shoved back the curtains and climbed in. The semidark living room was scattered with old furniture including a couch that he stumbled over. Across from him were the kitchen and a window that showed the backyard. No one was in sight.
The smell of smoke hung in the warm air. A clock ticked loudly. Ben covered his mouth and nose with his hand and rushed toward the hallway, certain the woman would be down that way, more certain than ever that she had to be in trouble, otherwise she would have answered by now.
“Fire! Get out!” he shouted, choking on his words as the acrid smell hit him. He saw a phone on a small table next to the entrance to the hall, snatched it up and dialed 911 before dropping it and continuing. He knew someone would respond, since the number had been dialed. That was enough.
Down the hall the smoke was thicker. Something out back was on fire, and this was the side of the house affected, he thought dimly. Suddenly the fire alarm in the front room started blaring.
If anyone was asleep, that would wake him or her up, he thought, glancing through the smoke, wanting to believe no one was there, that surely he was overreacting. His eyes burned and watered from the thickening smoke. Still, he was able to see enough to spot a closed door.
He started toward the closed door a few feet away. He had only taken two steps when his foot snagged something on the floor.
With a grunt he went down hard on the carpet, skinning both knees. Turning, feeling for what he’d tripped over, his hands met with flesh.
It was a woman. The woman, he realized. The one he was looking for. Enshrouded in pink pajamas, the woman lay still, one arm outstretched, her blond hair covering her face, keeping him from seeing it.
The smoke intensified and choked him. Galvanized, he worked to get the woman in his arms. Coughing, his eyes watering and burning, he grabbed her limp arm and swung her over his shoulder.
A gasp and raspy cough broke from his bundle. He felt relief to know she was still alive.
He headed toward the front door. The heat had already increased drastically.
“No.” She coughed. He could hardly hear the feminine voice over the blaring sound of the alarm as he rushed through the living room.
“Fire, ma’am,” Ben said.
The woman started fighting him.
“Be still, I don’t want to drop you.” He shifted her weight and anchored her firmly, visions of dropping her and not making it out of the house flashing in his mind.
He reached the door and fumbled with the lock, then jerked it open and rushed out. Air, clean and plentiful, met them. He got away from the house and deposited his bundle on the ground, working to breathe and clear his lungs.
“No! No…” The woman gagged, her raspy voice barely audible between the hoarseness and coughing. Out of the soot-covered face, two deep blue eyes pleaded with him, terrified, desperate. Her hands gripped his arm as she sucked in air, trying to calm her coughing.
“You’ve inhaled smoke. You need to lie still.”
“You—under—and. Baby…”
Ben’s heart dropped at her words. His breath stuck in his throat.
“Baby? Someone else is in the house?”
Frantically she nodded, her black-streaked hair falling into her face. “Five. I have—her.” She broke into another round of coughing.
Ben’s stomach clenched with queasiness. Whirling, he stared at the house. Flames engulfed the back part. The roof was smoldering and would go at any time. In the distance he heard the sound of sirens, but with all the smoke and fire, they wouldn’t make it in time.
He didn’t think. He simply acted. Taking a deep breath, he barreled into the house. Thick billowing smoke met him, and he prayed he’d find the child before he choked on the noxious odors.
Think. Think!
The woman, lying in the floor near a door. Yes. That was it. She had to be going after her daughter. Rushing that way, Ben met scorching heat. Putting his hand to the door he found it warm, not hot, and hoped it was safe to open without causing damage.
With a quick jerk, he opened and closed it behind him. Smoke, not as thick, had started filling this room. Wiping an arm across his sweat-covered face, he called, “Anyone here? Come out. We have to get you out of here.”
He broke into a round of coughing, feeling as if his lungs were on fire. He could hardly make out the bed across the room—only enough to see the covers were disturbed, as if someone had been in it.
He jerked the closet door open, found no one. A quick move around the room. He was getting frantic. He couldn’t breathe. The heat was intense against the door. He was out of time.
As a last shot he went to the bed and suddenly realized he hadn’t looked under it. Sure enough, a small child was bundled under there, crying. He heard her as soon as he went down on one knee. Brown curly hair surrounded the child’s fearful face. Big brown eyes, filled with fright, locked on to him. In her arms she held a white teddy bear. Her breathing was uneven and labored as she stared at him, frozen under her bed.
“Come here, honey,” Ben said, and without waiting for a reply grabbed her. She dropped the bear, her arms clutching at his neck, to his ever-lasting relief. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’ll get you outta here.”
The little girl whimpered in his ear, clutching his neck and burying her head against his shoulder.
A sense of purpose took over him. He’d get this little girl out.
The door was too hot, out of the question to go back that way, so he chose the window. Covering her with the blanket from the bed, he went to the window. Using his hands, he managed to get the glass out, then kicked out the screen. The mother was on the other side of the window, unsteady but working to help. Her deep blue eyes were determined and steady. She wanted her child out of the burning house and in her arms.
He’d never seen that look in a woman’s eyes before. It was a mother’s willingness to do anything to protect her child.
He gladly handed the coughing child to her mother before slipping through the small square exit and landing unsteadily in the flower garden, going to one knee. He forced himself to his feet, slipped an arm around the tiny frame of the mother and pushed her farther from the house. “Others?” He rasped the word out, trying to breathe in the warm muggy morning air but feeling like he was breathing in razors over raw skin.
“No. None. Oh…” Gasp, cough. “Thank you.” Hugging her child closely to her chest, she dropped to her knees.
Between her sobs and her coughs, Ben couldn’t make out much of what the pink-enshrouded woman said. Falling to his knees, he knelt and worked on breathing.
The crunching of gravel as a fire truck pulled in mixed with the sound of the corner of the roof collapsing on the house.
In what seemed like seconds a fireman was beside them administering first aid, giving them oxygen and easing their painful attempts to breathe.
Ben watched the ambulance arrive. Technicians checked out each of them. He noted that the woman, her long blond hair smudged with soot, clung to her daughter. The little child, who had dark hair and big brown eyes, looked like the mother except in coloring. She looked more scared than ill from the smoke.
The technicians took no chances and gave the child oxygen. Then it was his turn. The two ambulance technicians worked on them as the firemen shouted back and forth, spraying water on the fire to get it under control.
Finally, with the woman on a stretcher and the child and Ben strapped into seats across from her, the ambulance headed for the hospital in Zachary.
Over and over he heard the woman saying, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” And the entire time, as he watched the woman try to comfort the child and be brave while coping with the fact she’d just lost most of her house and nearly her life, he thought, Where’s your husband?
Chapter Two
Women are a species all to themselves, with the ability to cause you to make crazy decisions.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
Okay, okay, I admit I was ashamed not to know my neighbors. But when you see a good-looking woman with a kid you expect to find a husband attached.
At least I did. Of course, I was going to find out many of my bachelor ideas were inaccurate, to say the least. But first, I had to learn just how out of touch with the real world I was.
And boy did I get a dose of reality right after we arrived at the hospital.
“You don’t know her name?”
Ben shrugged. “No.” He could feel the dull flush creep up his cheeks as the nurse inspected him like he was some odd microbe under a microscope. Turning to the bed next to him, he asked, “Can you tell me your name?”
He wondered why the nurse had asked him instead of the woman, anyway.
Through the oxygen mask she wore the woman muttered, “Nie…ebber.”
Glancing at the nurse, he said, “Annie Webber.” He remembered the name Webber on the mailbox.
The nurse studied him. “This is your wife, sir?”
Shaking his head, he admitted, “No. We’re not married.”
The woman next to him grabbed his hand.
“I see,” the nurse said, looking pointedly at their hands.
“St…nie,” the woman said, jerking on his hand.
The little girl, who shared a bed with her mother, got down from the cot and moved next to Ben. She grasped his jogging sock.
Ben glanced from the woman’s hand, which was soot-covered, to the small child, who was suddenly hanging on him, and imagined just what the nurse thought she saw. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t know—” He started coughing.
The nurse tsked and adjusted the mask on his face then lifted the little girl to sit next to him.
He stared at the child, trying to figure out just why the nurse would put her there.
The little girl smiled beatifically then pulled at her mask, adjusting it, before leaning against him.
“St—nn—nie.” The woman stuttered again, drawing his attention from the alienlike being who’d just claimed one of his arms as her own.
This was unreal, he thought, looking from the woman to the child to the smirking nurse.
“I was jogging and came upon the—” His voice broke as he fell into a fresh spasm of coughs.
The nurse adjusted his mask again—and then slipped the clipboard under her arm. “Just relax. Breathe in and let the oxygen do its work. Give me a license and I’ll have the desk clerk finish this, Mr….?”
“I don’t have a license,” he said between gasps. “I told you. I was jog—”
“Ah, here is the doctor now.” The nurse didn’t act as if she cared that he hadn’t gotten to give her a lick of information. Instead, she was all business as she nodded toward the man who’d entered the room.
A young man full of energy strode into the curtained area where the three of them sat—or rather two sat and one lay, he thought, glancing at Annie.
“We’re going to get some X rays and do some blood gases and then, most likely, you can go home.” He went from Annie, checking her eyes and fingernails, to Ben and then the child. He paused long enough to listen to their hearts and lungs. Ben gratefully used that time to catch his breath and relax so his throat would stop clenching in pain against his attempts to talk.
“No burns,” the doctor said, nodding approvingly. “That’s good. From what the techs say, you guys were really lucky getting out of the house when you did.” He didn’t ask questions or stop to get to know the three of them. Instead, he offered a smile and added, “Don’t you worry now, everything will be fine.” With a quick nod he replied, “Gotta run. Busy morning. By the way, you have a cute daughter,” he added to Ben as he strode out.
“She’s not—”
The nurse followed the doctor.
Ben raised his hand to stop her and then gave up. He leaned back on the bed and realized the child still clung to him.
Glancing at her, uneasy at such a close proximity to something so small, he wondered what he was supposed to do with her. His niece and nephew never clung like this.
“Katie?” The woman reached toward the child, forcing herself into a sitting position.
The little girl wiggled and moved into her mother’s arms. The mother bowed her head over the girl and shuddered. Finally, she looked up. Through the mask she said, once again, “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I’m glad you made it out okay.” He found breathing became easier as he relaxed.
“I have no idea what happened,” the woman said. “I woke up. Having…bad dream and smelled…smoke. I thought Katie…” She shuddered and squeezed her daughter. Bowing her head, she gasped as if fighting tears. “I have no idea what we’re going to do. My house burned down. We don’t have family here.”
“No husband?” Ben asked then flushed, realizing that wasn’t something he should ask. But surely she had a husband. She had a kid.
“No. No husband.”
The woman was alone.
“No one to stay with?” he asked. Aw, man, for some reason this just didn’t sound right. A woman wasn’t supposed to live isolated from all of her family. Everyone had family. Even he had a sister who lived over in Slaughter, just north of Zachary.
“No. I mean…” He could see she was trying to think of someone. “I guess I could find someone…maybe. I don’t know….”
It was the tears that did it.
He knew when he saw those tears no matter what happened at the hospital, he was going to make sure this woman was okay once she left.
First one, then another tear slipped over her cheeks, past the mask to run down her neck, leaving clean streaks through her darkened face.
He couldn’t handle tears. He’d never been able to handle tears. “You can stay at my house until we can get to your home tomorrow and make sure you can move back in,” he said, though he didn’t think she’d be able to move in that quickly. They’d have to check the damage. “By the way,” he added belatedly, “I’m your neighbor, Ben.”
The woman glanced up, the surprise in her face mirroring what he felt.
What was he doing? He was a bachelor. He didn’t have time for people—especially people of the female sort or the small sort. He hadn’t just invited a woman and kid to share his house, had he? No way would he do something so stupid.
It was impossible.
But sitting there, staring at the woman and child, at the look of utter helplessness on her face as she continued to struggle to breathe, Ben realized his major weakness was a woman in peril. His sister swore he couldn’t say no to a woman. And here was this young mother needing help. How could he turn them away?
He couldn’t.
It was that simple.
With an inward sigh he admitted he’d done it. He’d invited them to stay with him. And he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
What was he getting himself into?
Chapter Three
Bachelorhood is simply a way of saying I don’t know anything about women.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
There had been a ton of paperwork to sign, and even though the doctor had seen them they still had tests that needed doing. While the nurses had been busy poking and prodding, Stephanie had asked about calling a taxi, but Ben had insisted on calling his friend.
She was glad for the ride. She couldn’t afford a taxi, and even if she could pay for a cab, where would she go? She had been honest when she’d said she couldn’t think of anyone to stay with. She was still probing her mind for someone who might have room to put her up for a day or two. She wasn’t sure what she could do. She’d had a house and now she didn’t. At least, she didn’t think she did. It had been burning when they’d left.
When they’d finally straightened everything out with the paperwork and it was time for a signature, Ben’s friend had shown up.
“I’m certain that it’ll be fine if you stay with me until we get something done with your house,” Ben said, and Stephanie felt herself redden in the early-morning light. “The doctor said it’d be a good idea for all of us to rest today, and you certainly aren’t going to do that back at your house. I’ll have John go by and board up what he can and tomorrow you can look at it.”
Confused, Stephanie asked, “Board up?”
He nodded. “Cover whatever there is left to cover. The entire house didn’t burn down. There’ll be things you can salvage. We’ll need to call the insurance company, of course, but everything else can wait until tomorrow. You had a close call this morning.”
Ben Mayeaux. It suddenly clicked who this man was.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I mean, you aren’t exactly a stranger, Mr. Mayeaux.”
Stephanie knew that sounded like an odd thing to say to a man she’d really never met. But as they drove back from Lane Hospital, she couldn’t help but chat to cover her nervousness. And she was nervous. Why had she accepted his invitation? Though she said she knew something about him, she only knew the basic facts. He was her neighbor, lived alone but was more involved in the community than she was. Everyone around town said he was a very nice person and really cared about people—even if he was a bit of a loner.
“Oh?” he asked, though the wary look that crossed his face told his true feelings.
“I know you’re at all of the town meetings and are on the board to build a better school even though you don’t have children. You’re quiet and keep to yourself and build stuff.”
“I build houses, Annie.”
“Stephanie,” she corrected.
“Yeah,” he murmured. His voice still sounded hoarse from the smoke.
“Thank you again,” she whispered. She reached up and rubbed her throat, thinking it felt raw as she talked.
“You’ve said that before,” he countered lightly.
She squeezed her daughter closer to her side. She didn’t think she would ever stop saying thank-you. The fear that had consumed her as she’d realized the house was on fire and her daughter was down the hall—her heart pounded just remembering the terror.
“I won’t get tired of saying it. You saved my daughter’s life.” She felt tears come again as she said those words.
The man driving the car rolled his eyes. Ben Mayeaux stiffened with unease.
Bachelors, she could tell. Not used to women, but she couldn’t help it. Her child had almost died. This man had saved them. “You’re my daughter’s hero. I can’t thank you enough for what you did.”
“Yeah. Well…” Ben shifted uncomfortably.
Stephanie cleared her throat. “I know we’re supposed to rest, but is there any way…I mean…” She shrugged, holding her daughter as close as the seat belts would allow. “I really need to stop and see my house today. Just to assure myself. I know it sounds crazy but…”
“No, it doesn’t.” Ben turned to the driver. “John, let’s stop by there first. But it’ll only be for a few minutes,” he added without looking at her.
Stephanie felt duly reprimanded for disobeying doctor’s orders. But she just had to see her house. The fire hadn’t been out when they’d left. She couldn’t explain why it was so important, but she just had to see, to make sure something was there. The fire seemed almost like a dream.
John turned onto the Pride-Port Hudson road before taking another turn onto a road that led to the house.
The first thing she noticed was that there were still small clouds of smoke hanging over the house, coming up in thin spirals from some blackened wood to the side of where her daughter’s room used to be.
The second thing she noticed was that part of her roof was missing.
John pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching underneath the tires as he rolled to a stop.
“Mama,” Katie whimpered and pointed.
“It’s okay, honey,” Stephanie said, though it wasn’t.
She released her seat belt and pushed open the car door.
The smell of burned wood permeated the air, making her daughter wrinkle her nose.
As Stephanie started toward the house, Ben warned, “Don’t go inside. We don’t know what’s secure.”
Katie clung to her mother’s hand. Stephanie trembled as they walked to the side of the house past the many azaleas and hydrangeas, past the hawthorns and bridal-wreath bushes to where their bedrooms were located. The garden that had contained her flowering perennials had been crushed and was covered with soot. The annuals were gone, trampled and destroyed in the attempts to get her daughter and put out the fire. The walls to the bedrooms had been severely damaged, especially Katie’s room.
Her stomach turned, and she felt queasy as she saw how much damage Katie’s room had sustained.
Her daughter wouldn’t have lived had Ben waited for the firemen to get her out.
“Thank you, God,” she whispered, shuddering.
Katie tugged on her hand, slipped free and ran toward the blackened wood.
“Katie! Watch out. It’s dangerous there.”
“My bear, Mama,” she said, and squatted in the mess that had once been the outside wall to her room.
Stephanie hurried after her and got to her just as she stood.
Sure enough, black-coated but amazingly not too wet or burned, was the white teddy Katie liked to sleep with.
The little girl pounded the bear on the ground. “She’s dirty.”
“She sure is,” Ben said, walking up. “We can wash her out at my house,” he offered.
Stephanie wasn’t sure how well the bear would fare being washed, but she didn’t argue. Instead she said, “Mr. Ben is right. We can clean it all up.”
If only she could say the same thing about the house, she thought as her daughter ran toward the car to show John what she’d found.
Katie didn’t know what a stranger was.
Stephanie surveyed the rest of the house from where she stood.
Ben walked next to her. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It looks pretty bad,” she said and laughed. It was not a laugh of joy but of welling despair. It was a laugh with a touch of sarcasm, a laugh that escaped to cover the tears that would come otherwise.
She had the oddest feeling Ben knew that as he slipped an arm around her and gave her shoulders a hug.
“We’ll come back tomorrow and go through everything. Just from this side it looks like the fire started toward the back and spread. I guess breaking your daughter’s window gave the fire enough oxygen to really destroy her room, but I’d be willing to bet the rest of the house is intact, if not a little water-and smoke-damaged.”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “Standing here…”
“You need to rest.”
Glancing at the man beside her, she realized he was right. She was numb.
He was very perceptive.
Studying him, she realized he wasn’t feeling as well as he sounded, either. “Does your throat hurt as much as mine does?”
A crooked grin tilted one corner of his mouth. “I don’t know. How much does your throat hurt?”
“Feels like a rusty railroad track, and the train derailed somewhere along the line,” she admitted.
He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s go to the house. You can take one of those pills the doctor gave you—after you shower.”
“Clothes!” she said, suddenly realizing all she had were the pajamas she was dressed in.
Ben glanced down, realizing what she was wearing.
“Ah, um…” He stepped away from her, looking acutely uncomfortable. “You can borrow one of my shirts. You really shouldn’t go in there until we’re certain how stable the structure is. And your daughter, well, can she wear a T-shirt maybe?”
He acted like he was embarrassed or unsure of the offer. To her it sounded like a lifeline. “Thank you—again,” she said.
He nodded.
“Let’s go,” he said firmly but gently.
She nodded and headed to the car. “Thank you again,” she whispered as she started to climb in the car.
Ben smiled and said as he shut her door, “We’re going to have to talk about this thank-you thing.”
She thought they could talk, but after seeing what her daughter’s former bedroom looked like, she’d never get tired of saying it.
No matter what he said.
Chapter Four
Family are the people who know everything about you and are willing to comment on everything even if it’s not their business.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
“Do you need to call your boss? Maybe some friends to let them know you’re okay?”
Ben stood in the living room watching the way the little girl, Katie, clung to her mom as her mom hung up the phone from the insurance company and then dialed Katie’s school. She had said those were the two calls she had to make. He thought it was strange that she didn’t call friends or a boss. They looked so odd standing there in his kitchen, covered with soot, dirtying his phone. The child clung to the mother and the grimy teddy bear clutched to her chest with equal desperation.
He wondered what the two saw in his house. Trying to see it through their eyes, he noted the stark wood furniture with the brown cushions. A large tan rug covered part of the polished wooden floor in the lower section of the living room where he stood.
Various pads and pencils were tossed on the coffee table and end tables. The shelf over the fireplace was empty except for a few gifts his sister had gotten him—mugs, a picture of her, her husband and two kids.
There were no knickknacks or crocheted table covers like his grandmother had had sprinkled all over her house. He had some in a box somewhere that he’d gotten when Grandma Betsy had died, but he’d never bothered to unpack them.
He hadn’t understood their use—until now. The house looked sort of bare without such things.
“No. I mean, there’s the church, but then there’s not a lot they can do—except maybe clothes and food—after I figure out what I’ll need. As for friends, well…” She shrugged. “And, well, I’m my own boss, actually. I do ad campaigns for businesses. Art and things like that. Graphics. I also do Web sites.” She shrugged and replaced the phone in the cradle, which rested on the wall near the kitchen.
He was glad he tended to keep a clean—if empty—house. The kitchen had a couple of dirty dishes in the sink, but that was it. The dining room table in front of the patio doors was spotless except for a few more pads of paper.
Suddenly, he smiled triumphantly. There were place mats there—the ones his sister had bought him last Christmas.
Realizing the woman was staring at him, he said, “That’s interesting. You know, I was thinking of hiring someone to create a Web page for me and work up an ad. My business has been picking up this last year, and I wanted to focus on expanding it through the media.”
It was the truth.
It was also an invitation for her to talk. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this awkward around a woman. Seeing her there in her pink frilly pajamas… Oh man, he thought, and almost slapped his head as he realized he’d made her and her daughter continue to stand there, soot-covered, in their pajamas.
“It’s important you have an idea what you want before you get started. Perhaps I could give you some advice,” she offered.
He walked up to the second level of the house, went to the hall and started down it. “I’d like that.”
“Can you perhaps give me an idea how much the repairs might be to the house? I have insurance but I know there’s going to be some out-of-pocket expense. You do those things, so maybe you have an idea?”
He listened to her voice as he dug through his closet and found two shirts. He stopped at the linen closet and dug out towels. She sounded just as nervous as he did, he realized.
He returned to the living room and set his plunder on the table. “Tell you what,” he said, thinking to relax the woman a bit. He had a very bad feeling she was strapped for money. Maybe it was because the pajamas she wore were faded and frayed around the wrists and ankles. Or maybe it was the fact that the little kid’s gown was about three inches too short, both on the legs and arms. “Would you consider doing up a campaign for me if I waived the repair job costs?”
He’d said something wrong, he realized immediately from the way she stiffened. Lifting his hands in a conciliatory gesture, he offered, “We’ll draw up a contract. It’ll be strictly business. But as I was saying earlier, I sure could use some advice on that expansion John and I are planning.”
She hesitated then relaxed. “Let’s discuss that.”
Relieved she hadn’t taken him to task for the crazy offer, he nodded. “Sounds good.”
Rubbing at his throat, he went into the kitchen. “I hope you’ll make yourself at home. Just help yourself if you want drinks or food. I’ll warn you, I’m not the best host in the world. I’m a workaholic,” he ruefully admitted. “I plan to call my company, take a shower and then rest for a while. I’d suggest you two do the same.”
He opened the medication the doctor gave him for pain and downed two pills. He got a glass out of the cabinet next to the sink, slid it into the refrigerator door and filled it up, quickly swallowing the cold water.
At the giggle from the little kid, he turned his head, curious. “You got water out of there,” she informed him.
He blinked. “Yeah.”
“She’s never seen one of those before,” Stephanie said.
“Oh.” Shifting, he shrugged. Deciding to try to win the child’s friendship, he went to the cupboard and pulled out another glass. “You want to try?”
Her eyes lit up as if he’d offered her candy. She scampered across the room and grabbed the glass.
“Push it up against this, like so,” he said, and helped her.
“I can do it,” she informed him immediately and then pushed like he’d showed her and watched the water fill the glass—and overflow.
“Oh, dear,” Stephanie said, coming forward.
“No problem,” Ben said. “Why don’t you two go take a quick shower and I’ll wipe up the spill?”
Stephanie nodded. “Come on, Katie,” she said and slipping her hands to her daughter’s shoulders hurried her off.
Ben shook his head, found a cloth and wiped up the water running down the refrigerator.
Well, that had been an interesting almost conversation, he thought sardonically.
He hoped things eased between them or this was going to be a long few days.
He tossed the cloth into the sink, made a quick call to his office then headed for his room and the shower. It’d been a long morning, and surprisingly all he wanted to do was take a nice long cool shower and then get some shut-eye.
Unfortunately, as he was climbing out of the tub his phone kept him from doing just that. He grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms, slipped into them then snagged the phone.
“Hello?” Cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, he tied the drawstring and listened.
“Hi, Ben, it’s me, Sunni. Are you okay?”
Ben resisted the urge to sigh. He reached for a comb and quickly ran it through his hair be fore dropping to the bed next to him. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” He lay the comb on the bedside table.
Of course, he knew why she was asking about him. He should have known she’d have heard by now, especially the way word traveled in small towns, but he just hadn’t had time to think. No excuse—well, maybe two, which were in the other room sleeping right now.
“I called your office to ask about dinner Sunday, and John said you’d nearly been killed in a fire. Why didn’t you call me? I nearly fainted dead away over what John said!”
His sister tended to exaggerate a bit. The utter shock and excitement in her voice told him she was hyped up over this. He hadn’t meant to upset her so. Working to calm her down, he reassured her. “It’s okay, Sunni. My neighbor’s house caught fire. She, her daughter and I are fine.”
He didn’t want to say he’d gone inside if she didn’t know.
“You went in after them.”
Oh, well. So much for her not knowing that. He was really in for it now. She took a breath, not waiting for him to answer, and continued with her tirade.
“Are you crazy? Ben, that’s what firemen are trained to do, not citizens. I mean…” She paused.
He heard her take a deep breath. “You’re my only brother. I could have lost you.”
At the waver in her voice, he realized she was going to cry. Worried at that sound, the one sound that could cripple him, that sound that would bring any man to his knees, he knew he had to divert her, and quick. “Annie and her daughter are staying here. Katie is five, about Ronnie’s size,” he said.
“Veronica is six.”
“I know, but when I saw Katie I thought of Ronnie.”
“You and that infernal nickname,” Sunni muttered, no longer sounding in tears but put out with him. Relieved, he relaxed a bit.
“I wondered if you—”
“Wait a minute.”
He paused. “What?”
“You have a woman and child staying with you?”
She’d gone from crying to incredulous in under thirty seconds. That was his Sunni. “Yeah. They couldn’t very well stay in their house until they knew how bad the damage was. The doctor wanted to give them some medicine to help them rest and they would have had to stay in the hospital otherwise.”
“Doesn’t she have friends?”
Ben paused, stumped. “To be honest, I don’t know. She was in shock over her house. I was there. I offered.”
“She cried, didn’t she?”
Ben scowled at the phone. “I’m her neighbor,” he informed his nosy sister. “It was the right thing to do.”
“Well, that’s nice, Ben. I’m sure it is. But if they’re staying there… I mean, what are they doing about toiletries and clothes and—”
“Do you have any old clothes that Katie could borrow until tomorrow when we can go over to her house? I know it’s asking a lot, but—”
“No, it’s not. I’ll go through Veronica’s stuff and come right—”
“Over this evening.” He cut in, trying to slow his sister down. He’d diverted her into her helping mode. He usually shunned that mode of Sunni’s, but considering the alternative, he felt this was a great distraction.
“I’ll bring supper. David is offshore, working, and won’t be back for a few more days so I’d love to bring food over to eat. I hope you don’t mind. I mean, I know you’re not used to cooking for more than yourself.”
Ben realized his sister was right. A yawn caught him off guard. “Yeah. That sounds good, sis. Listen, I took some medication the doctor gave me and it’s kicking in. Can we discuss this around six o’clock tonight?”
“I’ll be there. And Ben?”
“Yeah?” he asked, shoving the covers back and reseating himself.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me, too, sis.”
“I love you.”
“You too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
He cradled the phone in its place and slipped under the covers. Talking with his sister was like a roller coaster ride of emotions. She was a very energetic person who cared deeply about him.
Raised by their elderly grandmother, he and Sunni shared a special relationship.
Being dropped off that day together, all alone, with just a suitcase of clothes had forced them to share a tighter bond than most siblings.
He should have called her first thing after he got home.
He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to do so.
Shaking his head, he allowed himself to relax, promising he’d make it up to her later tonight—when she came over for supper.
Chapter Five
One female in a bachelor’s household is disconcerting, two or more you just might as well give up and accept the inevitability of disaster.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
A giggle woke her.
Thinking it was her daughter, Stephanie rolled over and opened her eyes.
A boy, perhaps four or five, stood beside her bed, a big grin on his face, two crooked teeth sticking out as he smiled.
Dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Well, hello,” she said, shifting to sit up.
“That’s Justin. I’m Veronica.”
Stephanie glanced at the door where an older version of the child in front of her stood. The older child had perfectly straight teeth and long brown curly hair. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Stephanie.”
“Uncle Ben said you were Annie. He asked me to bring you this dress that Mom brought over.”
In her hands she held a dark blue house-dress—strings tied at the throat, short sleeves with a stretchy waist. It didn’t look like something she’d wear, but she was so very grateful for any feminine clothing she knew she would put it on and be happy with it.
“Thank you.” Stephanie accepted the dress from the girl.
“Mama brought dinner. Katie is already in there.”
“My daughter?”
Veronica grinned. “She’s helping Mama set the table. I got out of it because she wanted to do it. Uncle Ben said to let you sleep some until dinner.”
“I see. Well, then, why don’t you run on and tell him I’m up and I’ll be right there, okay?”
“Okay. Come on, Justin.”
She walked over and grabbed her brother’s hand.
“I wanna stay.”
“You can’t. She has to put her dress on,” the older sister ordered.
Justin didn’t argue but followed his sister out.
Stephanie quickly took off the shirt Ben had given her and slipped the dress on, trying to regain her equilibrium. She wasn’t used to waking up in a stranger’s house with unfamiliar children staring at her. To find out her daughter was with strangers was even more disconcerting.
She quickly brushed her hair and left the room, still barefoot but at least covered and semipresentable.
As she entered the living room she caught sight of Ben handing the silverware to his sister, who handed it to Katie. Stephanie paused and watched as her daughter carefully began laying out the forks and then knives and spoons. Everything else was on the table.
And it smelled delicious.
“Oh, you must be Annie,” a tall, willowy woman said from the kitchen. She came forward, reached out and hugged Stephanie.
“Actually, it’s Stephanie,” Stephanie corrected, accepting the hug.
“Stephanie?” She glanced at her brother in query then at Stephanie. “You poor thing. I heard what happened.” She reached for Stephanie and took her hand and squeezed it, then continued to hold it. “I’m Sunni, Ben’s older sister. I live over in Slaughter. When I understood what straits you were in I had to help. Hope you like smothered chicken and okra.” After releasing Stephanie’s hand, she motioned toward the table.
Stephanie nodded, her stomach grumbling in welcome of a meal. “It smells wonderful. I can’t believe I slept the day away.” Straits? She wondered just what Sunni meant by that statement and what Ben had told her.
She was also embarrassed that it was already dinnertime and she hadn’t awakened once during the day. Right now, however, what she really wanted was something to drink. Her throat still hurt, a painful reminder of the catastrophe that morning. But not just her throat hurt, she realized suddenly. For some reason so did the muscles in her arms and legs and back. Actually, she felt as if she’d run a marathon.
“Why don’t we go ahead and sit down and eat then,” Sunni said, interrupting Stephanie’s musings.
Ben dried his hands on a towel and crossed toward the dining room table. “I hear you met Sunni’s children.” He patted Sunni’s daughter on the shoulder as he passed her and rubbed Justin’s head. “Her husband, David, is offshore right now.” He stopped behind a chair, pulled it out and glanced at her. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to eat.”
Stephanie quickly crossed to the chair and allowed herself to be seated, surprised at the gesture but feeling oddly flustered.
Ben positioned himself next to his sister and then watched as the kids quietly pulled their napkins out and slipped them into their laps.
Well behaved, she’d give the kids that.
They immediately started dishing out food, however, which caused a problem with her daughter. Katie wasted no time in advising them how they had violated her routine. “Wait!”
Ben, who had just reached for the bread, paused, his eyes wide in surprise.
Stephanie blushed, not sure what to say. She knew exactly what the problem was.
“What is it, Katie?” Sunni asked before Stephanie had a chance to say a word.
“We can do it silently,” Stephanie offered.
Ben looked from one to the other. “Do what?”
“You didn’t pray,” Katie said, accusation in her voice. “You can’t eat until you do.”
It was obvious none of the others at the table had ever said grace before a meal. Sunni, however, smiled. “What a nice idea. Okay. Let’s pray. How do we do this now?”
Shocked, Stephanie thought surely Sunni was kidding. But the others didn’t look like she was kidding. Instead, they all stared at Katie.
“You have to bow your head like this.” Katie demonstrated by lowering her head until her chin touched her chest. She folded her hands and crooked her head, one eye opened and staring at them as she continued. “Then you close your eyes so no one can see you. Then you just talk.”
When she was certain they understood she scrunched her eyes shut. “Thank you, God, for this food. And that we aren’t hurt. And for Mommie and Mr. Ben and he saved our lives. Amen.”
Stephanie hadn’t been able to bow her head, she had been so stunned. She noted that Sunni had imitated Katie, as had her children. Ben belatedly tried to bow his head, but it was too late. With a sheepish glance at his sister he shifted the napkin in his lap.
“Amen,” Sunni echoed. “That’s very good manners, Katie. Do you think we can eat now?”
The sweet smile on Sunni’s face caused a reciprocal one to form on Katie’s. “Now we can.”
Sunni clapped. “Okay, everyone.”
Stephanie felt like apologizing but at the same time she was proud of her daughter. She hadn’t known what to do when they’d started to eat. Her daughter, however, hadn’t hesitated. And on top of that, Sunni had praised her.
Glancing up, she found Ben staring at her. He offered her a crooked smile. Relaxing, she decided to go on from there. She took a long sip of water, easing her dry throat, before accepting the chicken that was passed to her. She dished herself up something to eat.
“Did you teach Katie to do that, Stephanie?” Sunni asked as she passed the bread from her brother to Stephanie, pausing to put a piece on Justin’s plate.
“I suppose. It’s just something we’ve always done. Even at our church suppers we pray before our meals.”
“Oh. You go to church,” Sunni said, and started to cut up her son’s food.
“Yes. Down the road in Zachary, actually.”
“We’re not into church or religion,” Sunni confessed. “I guess I’ve never thought about it.”
She couldn’t believe Sunni had never been to church. “Never?”
“Well, we’ve been to a couple of funerals. But my husband and I were married by a justice of the peace. I’ve never been to Sunday service.”
Ben interrupted. “Our grandmother didn’t get out much.”
“Speaking of which.” Sunni cut in. “Do you have any friends we can call? Someone who might be worried about you?”
Stephanie filled her daughter’s plate, making sure to add some corn, Katie’s favorite, and then took a bite of the green beans she’d dished up for herself. “I guess I’m like your grandmother. I don’t get out much—just work and church. I don’t really get involved in church, not since…well…” She glanced at her daughter and changed the subject. “I know a few people in the business in Baton Rouge that I should contact, I suppose. They’re businesses I do contract work for on a regular basis.”
“What do you do?” Sunni asked.
Stephanie found herself relaxing as she sensed Sunni’s genuine interest in her.
“She’s into graphic designs and Web pages,” Ben said, tearing off a piece of roll and popping it in his mouth.
Well, that was close, Stephanie thought, smiling at Ben.
“I also do Internet advertisements, as well as other things,” she added.
“Ben, you should get Stephanie to design a Web site for your business,” Sunni said excitedly.
“I’m in discussions on that very subject,” Ben retorted, grinning.
Ben seemed so easygoing with his sister, al lowing her to rattle on, interjecting when he had a chance. He had obviously been very close to his sister growing up.
Sunni was a little older than her brother. The wrinkles around her eyes gave that away. Although she also had smile wrinkles around her mouth, her blue eyes sparkled with fun. Her short brown hair had some gray in it.
She didn’t look much like her brother, except for the smile.
“Your husband is offshore?” Stephanie asked, turning the topic from her to Sunni.
“Do you work, as well?”
“Oh, no. I’m a full-time mom. I used to work in banking, but I love staying at home,” Sunni said proudly.
“That’s why I like working out of my home,” Stephanie murmured, feeling a sudden connection with the woman.
“Isn’t that true. Being at home during the developmental years is so important. It’s tight sometimes, but I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.”
Ben chuckled. “I’m not sure how she does it.”
“Oh, you’re just too uptight around kids, Ben. You need to learn to loosen up and have fun.”
Stephanie could tell by the look on Ben’s face he had no idea how to be fun around kids. “I’ll stick with my buildings, thank you, sis.”
Sunni rolled her eyes. “You’d think after six years he would be used to kids. Of course, he works so much he rarely sees my angels.” Sunni managed to look down her nose at her brother. “I’ll break him of that one day.”
Katie giggled.
Stephanie smiled at her daughter, trying to picture Sunni and her brother standing toe to toe as Sunni railed at him for always working. Stephanie couldn’t picture it. Ben would tower over Sunni.
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Cheryl Wolverton
THE GOOD NEIGHBOR–ACTUALLY, THE BESTA woman couldn' t ask for a better neighbor than Ben Mayeaux. He' d saved Stephanie Webber and her daughter from their burning house, and this single mom couldn' t thank him enough. Kind, strong and handsome, Ben had opened his home to them and helped in more ways than she could count, and soon Stephanie' s feelings were taking on a more-than-neighborly slant.When days of healing and house repair turned into tender evenings, Stephanie wondered if this tried-and-true bachelor' s home–and heart– would open permanently to a wife and rambunctious five-year-old.And if they did, could she heal her own past wounds, and love again?
“This is so much to take in,” Stephanie said.
Ben crossed the room, his forehead creasing into a small frown. His strides were long and quick as he closed the distance between them. Before she knew it, he’d reached up and clasped her shoulders. Squeezing them gently, he held her.
The warmth of the long, curved hands providing support and understanding was her undoing. She shuddered, and a sob escaped.
Mortified, she tried to pull away, not knowing why the floodgates of Hoover Dam had suddenly opened. Ben wouldn’t let her. Pulling her in to his chest, he wrapped his large arms around her. “This has been coming for a long time,” he said. “Let it out.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but his words had the desired effect. Her arms going around him, gripping to keep her from sliding into a puddle at his feet, she cried.
CHERYL WOLVERTON
RITA
Award finalist Cheryl Wolverton has well over a dozen books to her name. Her very popular HILL CREEK, TEXAS, series has been a finalist in many contests. Having grown up in Oklahoma, lived in Kentucky, Texas and now Louisiana, Cheryl and her husband of twenty years and their two children, Jeremiah and Christina, consider themselves Oklahomans who have been transplanted to grow and flourish in the South. Readers are always welcome to contact her via: P.O. Box 207, Slaughter, LA 70777 or e-mail at Cheryl@cherylwolverton.com. You can also visit her Web site at www.cherylwolverton.com.
A Wife for Ben
Cheryl Wolverton
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
He will not forget your work and the love
you have shown Him as you helped His people and continue to help them.
—Hebrews 6:10
Writing a book is always a fun process. And the acknowledgments are always something I like to do. I want to thank the librarians—all three of them—from Pride Branch in Pride, Louisiana. They were so helpful in finding the information I needed.
I would like to acknowledge Christina Wolverton.
Also Jeremiah Wolverton and my husband, Steve—a wonderful man. Without him, I wouldn’t be able to find my computer on some days!
Dear Reader,
Not too far from here there is a town called Pride, Louisiana. I thought it would make a wonderful setting for a story. Pride represents any small town, perhaps even the one that you live in. Its residents are everyday folk, people that you know.
In Pride and other communities all over the world, people become heroes by their simple actions. Giving a cup of water to someone who is thirsty or calling someone who is in the hospital or visiting someone who lives by himself or herself can be in itself a heroic act. You don’t have to save someone from a burning building or from something horrific to be a hero. Sometimes the simplest act of kindness is heroic to the person who receives it.
I’m sure we all can come up with someone who is an everyday hero to us. Take time to let those people in your life know how much you appreciate them. Let them know how much they mean to you. And remember that by helping someone, you might just become an everyday hero, too!
Blessings,
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter One
When you think life is going along just fine, life pulls an April fool.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
I still can’t believe it. Here I am, Ben Mayeaux, standing at the altar, about to commit myself to the best person I could have ever met.
Instant family.
I’ll have a five-year-old stepdaughter.
Who would have thought?
A staid and sure bachelor at thirty-eight years old. Not husband material. Not father material. And certainly not hero material.
At least, not until that day that turned my world on its axis like a top out of control…
Let me tell you about it.
Push it, Ben. Almost halfway there.
Sneakered feet pounded the asphalt as Ben Mayeaux worked to make the four miles. Ahead he saw the tree that marked the two miles where he would turn and head back to his house.
It was still dark in the predawn hours in Pride, Louisiana, dark and already humid. A thick early-morning fog was starting to build and cover the road where he ran, filling the wooded pine forests around him, making his feet echo hollowly as he pounded onward.
Come on, Ben. You can do it, just like when you were twenty. So, what if you’re thirty-eight, nearly thirty-nine. You’re at your best right now, at your prime. You have everything in life you want.
In and out, in and out, his breathing continued, if a bit labored.
He might feel like he was still twenty, but his body was telling him he should have called it quits at the mile marker.
He reached the turnaround point and headed down the road, inhaling the scent of crisp budding pines and exhaling in cadence with his running.
Pace yourself, Ben. You can do it.
Inhale…pound, pound, pound…exhale…pound, pound, pound.
Inhale…pound, pound… What was that smell? He continued another mile inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling, as the smell got stronger.
Distracted by the scent of wood burning so early on a spring morning, Ben slowed, glancing about. Stumbling to a halt, he bent, dropping his hands to his knees and inhaling as he tried to catch his breath. The odd smell was a good excuse to stop, and he didn’t have to admit he wasn’t as young as he used to be.
Ah, age. The wonderful joys of it. He was satisfied with all he had, where he was in life and everything else. But his body told him he was getting older.
Lifting his head, he again inhaled.
Yeah. Definitely wood smoke.
He wondered who would be outside burning trash or dead trees this early in the morning. The haze of dawn was just rearing its head. Walking forward to cool down until he caught his breath, he glanced around, speculating just who else might be up this early.
The road was deserted except for the shift workers who left around five to make it into Baton Rouge for shift change. Soon he’d be seeing buses as the local schools got ready to pick up kids for class. Then the everyday crowd of cars heading into Baton Rouge, the only place that really had a job market around, would finally start making its way toward town.
Pride, with a population of a few thousand, and neighboring Zachary, with less than ten thousand, certainly couldn’t support them selves.
So most folks traveled into Baton Rouge for work.
Taking a deep inhalation of the muggy morning he searched again, wondering just who might be up. It was possible a straight day, eight-to-five worker had some chores that needed doing and was performing them before he left for work.
But Ben didn’t have that many neighbors. Along this road there were maybe six houses in a six-mile area.
A haze caught his attention. That way, he realized, spotting where the haze drifted from. He instinctively started off the road toward the nearest neighbor he had. A woman lived there, if he remembered correctly. He’d seen her out occasionally in the evening when he ran. She was usually taking out trash or heading into the house. Sometimes he’d spotted her trying to clear out the front garden.
A cold chill worked its way up his sweat-covered body as he walked partway up the two-hundred-yard driveway. It wasn’t like him to interfere with neighbors. He was a bachelor and a loner and liked it that way. But he couldn’t picture this woman out at dawn burning excess wood as she cleared away her yard. And if that wasn’t enough to cause his unease to grow, the fact that few people had fireplaces and those that did didn’t use them in spring-time—unless they were crazy—really caused his spine to tingle with foreboding.
He’d just take a quick peek to see what she was doing and make sure she was okay and…
And call for help, he realized as he saw smoke billowing from the side of the house.
The back part of the house was in flames.
His heart leaped to his throat as he realized he was witnessing a house fire. He rushed to the front door and pounded on it. The sound of crackling flames could be heard echoing in the early-morning stillness.
Ben couldn’t perceive any movement inside the house. He hit the doorbell, then quickly pounded again. “Fire! Get up!” he called.
Impatiently he stood on his toes to peek in the door window.
He should call the fire department, but it was over a mile to his house. And he knew the woman had to be in there, most likely asleep. Her car was in the driveway.
Glancing around, he saw a flowerpot on her front porch.
He grabbed it and slammed it through the spacious front bay window. “Anyone home? Fire!” he called, all the while clearing the glass from around the frame with the red clay pot.
As soon as he had a spot cleared, he shoved back the curtains and climbed in. The semidark living room was scattered with old furniture including a couch that he stumbled over. Across from him were the kitchen and a window that showed the backyard. No one was in sight.
The smell of smoke hung in the warm air. A clock ticked loudly. Ben covered his mouth and nose with his hand and rushed toward the hallway, certain the woman would be down that way, more certain than ever that she had to be in trouble, otherwise she would have answered by now.
“Fire! Get out!” he shouted, choking on his words as the acrid smell hit him. He saw a phone on a small table next to the entrance to the hall, snatched it up and dialed 911 before dropping it and continuing. He knew someone would respond, since the number had been dialed. That was enough.
Down the hall the smoke was thicker. Something out back was on fire, and this was the side of the house affected, he thought dimly. Suddenly the fire alarm in the front room started blaring.
If anyone was asleep, that would wake him or her up, he thought, glancing through the smoke, wanting to believe no one was there, that surely he was overreacting. His eyes burned and watered from the thickening smoke. Still, he was able to see enough to spot a closed door.
He started toward the closed door a few feet away. He had only taken two steps when his foot snagged something on the floor.
With a grunt he went down hard on the carpet, skinning both knees. Turning, feeling for what he’d tripped over, his hands met with flesh.
It was a woman. The woman, he realized. The one he was looking for. Enshrouded in pink pajamas, the woman lay still, one arm outstretched, her blond hair covering her face, keeping him from seeing it.
The smoke intensified and choked him. Galvanized, he worked to get the woman in his arms. Coughing, his eyes watering and burning, he grabbed her limp arm and swung her over his shoulder.
A gasp and raspy cough broke from his bundle. He felt relief to know she was still alive.
He headed toward the front door. The heat had already increased drastically.
“No.” She coughed. He could hardly hear the feminine voice over the blaring sound of the alarm as he rushed through the living room.
“Fire, ma’am,” Ben said.
The woman started fighting him.
“Be still, I don’t want to drop you.” He shifted her weight and anchored her firmly, visions of dropping her and not making it out of the house flashing in his mind.
He reached the door and fumbled with the lock, then jerked it open and rushed out. Air, clean and plentiful, met them. He got away from the house and deposited his bundle on the ground, working to breathe and clear his lungs.
“No! No…” The woman gagged, her raspy voice barely audible between the hoarseness and coughing. Out of the soot-covered face, two deep blue eyes pleaded with him, terrified, desperate. Her hands gripped his arm as she sucked in air, trying to calm her coughing.
“You’ve inhaled smoke. You need to lie still.”
“You—under—and. Baby…”
Ben’s heart dropped at her words. His breath stuck in his throat.
“Baby? Someone else is in the house?”
Frantically she nodded, her black-streaked hair falling into her face. “Five. I have—her.” She broke into another round of coughing.
Ben’s stomach clenched with queasiness. Whirling, he stared at the house. Flames engulfed the back part. The roof was smoldering and would go at any time. In the distance he heard the sound of sirens, but with all the smoke and fire, they wouldn’t make it in time.
He didn’t think. He simply acted. Taking a deep breath, he barreled into the house. Thick billowing smoke met him, and he prayed he’d find the child before he choked on the noxious odors.
Think. Think!
The woman, lying in the floor near a door. Yes. That was it. She had to be going after her daughter. Rushing that way, Ben met scorching heat. Putting his hand to the door he found it warm, not hot, and hoped it was safe to open without causing damage.
With a quick jerk, he opened and closed it behind him. Smoke, not as thick, had started filling this room. Wiping an arm across his sweat-covered face, he called, “Anyone here? Come out. We have to get you out of here.”
He broke into a round of coughing, feeling as if his lungs were on fire. He could hardly make out the bed across the room—only enough to see the covers were disturbed, as if someone had been in it.
He jerked the closet door open, found no one. A quick move around the room. He was getting frantic. He couldn’t breathe. The heat was intense against the door. He was out of time.
As a last shot he went to the bed and suddenly realized he hadn’t looked under it. Sure enough, a small child was bundled under there, crying. He heard her as soon as he went down on one knee. Brown curly hair surrounded the child’s fearful face. Big brown eyes, filled with fright, locked on to him. In her arms she held a white teddy bear. Her breathing was uneven and labored as she stared at him, frozen under her bed.
“Come here, honey,” Ben said, and without waiting for a reply grabbed her. She dropped the bear, her arms clutching at his neck, to his ever-lasting relief. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’ll get you outta here.”
The little girl whimpered in his ear, clutching his neck and burying her head against his shoulder.
A sense of purpose took over him. He’d get this little girl out.
The door was too hot, out of the question to go back that way, so he chose the window. Covering her with the blanket from the bed, he went to the window. Using his hands, he managed to get the glass out, then kicked out the screen. The mother was on the other side of the window, unsteady but working to help. Her deep blue eyes were determined and steady. She wanted her child out of the burning house and in her arms.
He’d never seen that look in a woman’s eyes before. It was a mother’s willingness to do anything to protect her child.
He gladly handed the coughing child to her mother before slipping through the small square exit and landing unsteadily in the flower garden, going to one knee. He forced himself to his feet, slipped an arm around the tiny frame of the mother and pushed her farther from the house. “Others?” He rasped the word out, trying to breathe in the warm muggy morning air but feeling like he was breathing in razors over raw skin.
“No. None. Oh…” Gasp, cough. “Thank you.” Hugging her child closely to her chest, she dropped to her knees.
Between her sobs and her coughs, Ben couldn’t make out much of what the pink-enshrouded woman said. Falling to his knees, he knelt and worked on breathing.
The crunching of gravel as a fire truck pulled in mixed with the sound of the corner of the roof collapsing on the house.
In what seemed like seconds a fireman was beside them administering first aid, giving them oxygen and easing their painful attempts to breathe.
Ben watched the ambulance arrive. Technicians checked out each of them. He noted that the woman, her long blond hair smudged with soot, clung to her daughter. The little child, who had dark hair and big brown eyes, looked like the mother except in coloring. She looked more scared than ill from the smoke.
The technicians took no chances and gave the child oxygen. Then it was his turn. The two ambulance technicians worked on them as the firemen shouted back and forth, spraying water on the fire to get it under control.
Finally, with the woman on a stretcher and the child and Ben strapped into seats across from her, the ambulance headed for the hospital in Zachary.
Over and over he heard the woman saying, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” And the entire time, as he watched the woman try to comfort the child and be brave while coping with the fact she’d just lost most of her house and nearly her life, he thought, Where’s your husband?
Chapter Two
Women are a species all to themselves, with the ability to cause you to make crazy decisions.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
Okay, okay, I admit I was ashamed not to know my neighbors. But when you see a good-looking woman with a kid you expect to find a husband attached.
At least I did. Of course, I was going to find out many of my bachelor ideas were inaccurate, to say the least. But first, I had to learn just how out of touch with the real world I was.
And boy did I get a dose of reality right after we arrived at the hospital.
“You don’t know her name?”
Ben shrugged. “No.” He could feel the dull flush creep up his cheeks as the nurse inspected him like he was some odd microbe under a microscope. Turning to the bed next to him, he asked, “Can you tell me your name?”
He wondered why the nurse had asked him instead of the woman, anyway.
Through the oxygen mask she wore the woman muttered, “Nie…ebber.”
Glancing at the nurse, he said, “Annie Webber.” He remembered the name Webber on the mailbox.
The nurse studied him. “This is your wife, sir?”
Shaking his head, he admitted, “No. We’re not married.”
The woman next to him grabbed his hand.
“I see,” the nurse said, looking pointedly at their hands.
“St…nie,” the woman said, jerking on his hand.
The little girl, who shared a bed with her mother, got down from the cot and moved next to Ben. She grasped his jogging sock.
Ben glanced from the woman’s hand, which was soot-covered, to the small child, who was suddenly hanging on him, and imagined just what the nurse thought she saw. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t know—” He started coughing.
The nurse tsked and adjusted the mask on his face then lifted the little girl to sit next to him.
He stared at the child, trying to figure out just why the nurse would put her there.
The little girl smiled beatifically then pulled at her mask, adjusting it, before leaning against him.
“St—nn—nie.” The woman stuttered again, drawing his attention from the alienlike being who’d just claimed one of his arms as her own.
This was unreal, he thought, looking from the woman to the child to the smirking nurse.
“I was jogging and came upon the—” His voice broke as he fell into a fresh spasm of coughs.
The nurse adjusted his mask again—and then slipped the clipboard under her arm. “Just relax. Breathe in and let the oxygen do its work. Give me a license and I’ll have the desk clerk finish this, Mr….?”
“I don’t have a license,” he said between gasps. “I told you. I was jog—”
“Ah, here is the doctor now.” The nurse didn’t act as if she cared that he hadn’t gotten to give her a lick of information. Instead, she was all business as she nodded toward the man who’d entered the room.
A young man full of energy strode into the curtained area where the three of them sat—or rather two sat and one lay, he thought, glancing at Annie.
“We’re going to get some X rays and do some blood gases and then, most likely, you can go home.” He went from Annie, checking her eyes and fingernails, to Ben and then the child. He paused long enough to listen to their hearts and lungs. Ben gratefully used that time to catch his breath and relax so his throat would stop clenching in pain against his attempts to talk.
“No burns,” the doctor said, nodding approvingly. “That’s good. From what the techs say, you guys were really lucky getting out of the house when you did.” He didn’t ask questions or stop to get to know the three of them. Instead, he offered a smile and added, “Don’t you worry now, everything will be fine.” With a quick nod he replied, “Gotta run. Busy morning. By the way, you have a cute daughter,” he added to Ben as he strode out.
“She’s not—”
The nurse followed the doctor.
Ben raised his hand to stop her and then gave up. He leaned back on the bed and realized the child still clung to him.
Glancing at her, uneasy at such a close proximity to something so small, he wondered what he was supposed to do with her. His niece and nephew never clung like this.
“Katie?” The woman reached toward the child, forcing herself into a sitting position.
The little girl wiggled and moved into her mother’s arms. The mother bowed her head over the girl and shuddered. Finally, she looked up. Through the mask she said, once again, “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I’m glad you made it out okay.” He found breathing became easier as he relaxed.
“I have no idea what happened,” the woman said. “I woke up. Having…bad dream and smelled…smoke. I thought Katie…” She shuddered and squeezed her daughter. Bowing her head, she gasped as if fighting tears. “I have no idea what we’re going to do. My house burned down. We don’t have family here.”
“No husband?” Ben asked then flushed, realizing that wasn’t something he should ask. But surely she had a husband. She had a kid.
“No. No husband.”
The woman was alone.
“No one to stay with?” he asked. Aw, man, for some reason this just didn’t sound right. A woman wasn’t supposed to live isolated from all of her family. Everyone had family. Even he had a sister who lived over in Slaughter, just north of Zachary.
“No. I mean…” He could see she was trying to think of someone. “I guess I could find someone…maybe. I don’t know….”
It was the tears that did it.
He knew when he saw those tears no matter what happened at the hospital, he was going to make sure this woman was okay once she left.
First one, then another tear slipped over her cheeks, past the mask to run down her neck, leaving clean streaks through her darkened face.
He couldn’t handle tears. He’d never been able to handle tears. “You can stay at my house until we can get to your home tomorrow and make sure you can move back in,” he said, though he didn’t think she’d be able to move in that quickly. They’d have to check the damage. “By the way,” he added belatedly, “I’m your neighbor, Ben.”
The woman glanced up, the surprise in her face mirroring what he felt.
What was he doing? He was a bachelor. He didn’t have time for people—especially people of the female sort or the small sort. He hadn’t just invited a woman and kid to share his house, had he? No way would he do something so stupid.
It was impossible.
But sitting there, staring at the woman and child, at the look of utter helplessness on her face as she continued to struggle to breathe, Ben realized his major weakness was a woman in peril. His sister swore he couldn’t say no to a woman. And here was this young mother needing help. How could he turn them away?
He couldn’t.
It was that simple.
With an inward sigh he admitted he’d done it. He’d invited them to stay with him. And he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
What was he getting himself into?
Chapter Three
Bachelorhood is simply a way of saying I don’t know anything about women.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
There had been a ton of paperwork to sign, and even though the doctor had seen them they still had tests that needed doing. While the nurses had been busy poking and prodding, Stephanie had asked about calling a taxi, but Ben had insisted on calling his friend.
She was glad for the ride. She couldn’t afford a taxi, and even if she could pay for a cab, where would she go? She had been honest when she’d said she couldn’t think of anyone to stay with. She was still probing her mind for someone who might have room to put her up for a day or two. She wasn’t sure what she could do. She’d had a house and now she didn’t. At least, she didn’t think she did. It had been burning when they’d left.
When they’d finally straightened everything out with the paperwork and it was time for a signature, Ben’s friend had shown up.
“I’m certain that it’ll be fine if you stay with me until we get something done with your house,” Ben said, and Stephanie felt herself redden in the early-morning light. “The doctor said it’d be a good idea for all of us to rest today, and you certainly aren’t going to do that back at your house. I’ll have John go by and board up what he can and tomorrow you can look at it.”
Confused, Stephanie asked, “Board up?”
He nodded. “Cover whatever there is left to cover. The entire house didn’t burn down. There’ll be things you can salvage. We’ll need to call the insurance company, of course, but everything else can wait until tomorrow. You had a close call this morning.”
Ben Mayeaux. It suddenly clicked who this man was.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I mean, you aren’t exactly a stranger, Mr. Mayeaux.”
Stephanie knew that sounded like an odd thing to say to a man she’d really never met. But as they drove back from Lane Hospital, she couldn’t help but chat to cover her nervousness. And she was nervous. Why had she accepted his invitation? Though she said she knew something about him, she only knew the basic facts. He was her neighbor, lived alone but was more involved in the community than she was. Everyone around town said he was a very nice person and really cared about people—even if he was a bit of a loner.
“Oh?” he asked, though the wary look that crossed his face told his true feelings.
“I know you’re at all of the town meetings and are on the board to build a better school even though you don’t have children. You’re quiet and keep to yourself and build stuff.”
“I build houses, Annie.”
“Stephanie,” she corrected.
“Yeah,” he murmured. His voice still sounded hoarse from the smoke.
“Thank you again,” she whispered. She reached up and rubbed her throat, thinking it felt raw as she talked.
“You’ve said that before,” he countered lightly.
She squeezed her daughter closer to her side. She didn’t think she would ever stop saying thank-you. The fear that had consumed her as she’d realized the house was on fire and her daughter was down the hall—her heart pounded just remembering the terror.
“I won’t get tired of saying it. You saved my daughter’s life.” She felt tears come again as she said those words.
The man driving the car rolled his eyes. Ben Mayeaux stiffened with unease.
Bachelors, she could tell. Not used to women, but she couldn’t help it. Her child had almost died. This man had saved them. “You’re my daughter’s hero. I can’t thank you enough for what you did.”
“Yeah. Well…” Ben shifted uncomfortably.
Stephanie cleared her throat. “I know we’re supposed to rest, but is there any way…I mean…” She shrugged, holding her daughter as close as the seat belts would allow. “I really need to stop and see my house today. Just to assure myself. I know it sounds crazy but…”
“No, it doesn’t.” Ben turned to the driver. “John, let’s stop by there first. But it’ll only be for a few minutes,” he added without looking at her.
Stephanie felt duly reprimanded for disobeying doctor’s orders. But she just had to see her house. The fire hadn’t been out when they’d left. She couldn’t explain why it was so important, but she just had to see, to make sure something was there. The fire seemed almost like a dream.
John turned onto the Pride-Port Hudson road before taking another turn onto a road that led to the house.
The first thing she noticed was that there were still small clouds of smoke hanging over the house, coming up in thin spirals from some blackened wood to the side of where her daughter’s room used to be.
The second thing she noticed was that part of her roof was missing.
John pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching underneath the tires as he rolled to a stop.
“Mama,” Katie whimpered and pointed.
“It’s okay, honey,” Stephanie said, though it wasn’t.
She released her seat belt and pushed open the car door.
The smell of burned wood permeated the air, making her daughter wrinkle her nose.
As Stephanie started toward the house, Ben warned, “Don’t go inside. We don’t know what’s secure.”
Katie clung to her mother’s hand. Stephanie trembled as they walked to the side of the house past the many azaleas and hydrangeas, past the hawthorns and bridal-wreath bushes to where their bedrooms were located. The garden that had contained her flowering perennials had been crushed and was covered with soot. The annuals were gone, trampled and destroyed in the attempts to get her daughter and put out the fire. The walls to the bedrooms had been severely damaged, especially Katie’s room.
Her stomach turned, and she felt queasy as she saw how much damage Katie’s room had sustained.
Her daughter wouldn’t have lived had Ben waited for the firemen to get her out.
“Thank you, God,” she whispered, shuddering.
Katie tugged on her hand, slipped free and ran toward the blackened wood.
“Katie! Watch out. It’s dangerous there.”
“My bear, Mama,” she said, and squatted in the mess that had once been the outside wall to her room.
Stephanie hurried after her and got to her just as she stood.
Sure enough, black-coated but amazingly not too wet or burned, was the white teddy Katie liked to sleep with.
The little girl pounded the bear on the ground. “She’s dirty.”
“She sure is,” Ben said, walking up. “We can wash her out at my house,” he offered.
Stephanie wasn’t sure how well the bear would fare being washed, but she didn’t argue. Instead she said, “Mr. Ben is right. We can clean it all up.”
If only she could say the same thing about the house, she thought as her daughter ran toward the car to show John what she’d found.
Katie didn’t know what a stranger was.
Stephanie surveyed the rest of the house from where she stood.
Ben walked next to her. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It looks pretty bad,” she said and laughed. It was not a laugh of joy but of welling despair. It was a laugh with a touch of sarcasm, a laugh that escaped to cover the tears that would come otherwise.
She had the oddest feeling Ben knew that as he slipped an arm around her and gave her shoulders a hug.
“We’ll come back tomorrow and go through everything. Just from this side it looks like the fire started toward the back and spread. I guess breaking your daughter’s window gave the fire enough oxygen to really destroy her room, but I’d be willing to bet the rest of the house is intact, if not a little water-and smoke-damaged.”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “Standing here…”
“You need to rest.”
Glancing at the man beside her, she realized he was right. She was numb.
He was very perceptive.
Studying him, she realized he wasn’t feeling as well as he sounded, either. “Does your throat hurt as much as mine does?”
A crooked grin tilted one corner of his mouth. “I don’t know. How much does your throat hurt?”
“Feels like a rusty railroad track, and the train derailed somewhere along the line,” she admitted.
He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s go to the house. You can take one of those pills the doctor gave you—after you shower.”
“Clothes!” she said, suddenly realizing all she had were the pajamas she was dressed in.
Ben glanced down, realizing what she was wearing.
“Ah, um…” He stepped away from her, looking acutely uncomfortable. “You can borrow one of my shirts. You really shouldn’t go in there until we’re certain how stable the structure is. And your daughter, well, can she wear a T-shirt maybe?”
He acted like he was embarrassed or unsure of the offer. To her it sounded like a lifeline. “Thank you—again,” she said.
He nodded.
“Let’s go,” he said firmly but gently.
She nodded and headed to the car. “Thank you again,” she whispered as she started to climb in the car.
Ben smiled and said as he shut her door, “We’re going to have to talk about this thank-you thing.”
She thought they could talk, but after seeing what her daughter’s former bedroom looked like, she’d never get tired of saying it.
No matter what he said.
Chapter Four
Family are the people who know everything about you and are willing to comment on everything even if it’s not their business.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
“Do you need to call your boss? Maybe some friends to let them know you’re okay?”
Ben stood in the living room watching the way the little girl, Katie, clung to her mom as her mom hung up the phone from the insurance company and then dialed Katie’s school. She had said those were the two calls she had to make. He thought it was strange that she didn’t call friends or a boss. They looked so odd standing there in his kitchen, covered with soot, dirtying his phone. The child clung to the mother and the grimy teddy bear clutched to her chest with equal desperation.
He wondered what the two saw in his house. Trying to see it through their eyes, he noted the stark wood furniture with the brown cushions. A large tan rug covered part of the polished wooden floor in the lower section of the living room where he stood.
Various pads and pencils were tossed on the coffee table and end tables. The shelf over the fireplace was empty except for a few gifts his sister had gotten him—mugs, a picture of her, her husband and two kids.
There were no knickknacks or crocheted table covers like his grandmother had had sprinkled all over her house. He had some in a box somewhere that he’d gotten when Grandma Betsy had died, but he’d never bothered to unpack them.
He hadn’t understood their use—until now. The house looked sort of bare without such things.
“No. I mean, there’s the church, but then there’s not a lot they can do—except maybe clothes and food—after I figure out what I’ll need. As for friends, well…” She shrugged. “And, well, I’m my own boss, actually. I do ad campaigns for businesses. Art and things like that. Graphics. I also do Web sites.” She shrugged and replaced the phone in the cradle, which rested on the wall near the kitchen.
He was glad he tended to keep a clean—if empty—house. The kitchen had a couple of dirty dishes in the sink, but that was it. The dining room table in front of the patio doors was spotless except for a few more pads of paper.
Suddenly, he smiled triumphantly. There were place mats there—the ones his sister had bought him last Christmas.
Realizing the woman was staring at him, he said, “That’s interesting. You know, I was thinking of hiring someone to create a Web page for me and work up an ad. My business has been picking up this last year, and I wanted to focus on expanding it through the media.”
It was the truth.
It was also an invitation for her to talk. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this awkward around a woman. Seeing her there in her pink frilly pajamas… Oh man, he thought, and almost slapped his head as he realized he’d made her and her daughter continue to stand there, soot-covered, in their pajamas.
“It’s important you have an idea what you want before you get started. Perhaps I could give you some advice,” she offered.
He walked up to the second level of the house, went to the hall and started down it. “I’d like that.”
“Can you perhaps give me an idea how much the repairs might be to the house? I have insurance but I know there’s going to be some out-of-pocket expense. You do those things, so maybe you have an idea?”
He listened to her voice as he dug through his closet and found two shirts. He stopped at the linen closet and dug out towels. She sounded just as nervous as he did, he realized.
He returned to the living room and set his plunder on the table. “Tell you what,” he said, thinking to relax the woman a bit. He had a very bad feeling she was strapped for money. Maybe it was because the pajamas she wore were faded and frayed around the wrists and ankles. Or maybe it was the fact that the little kid’s gown was about three inches too short, both on the legs and arms. “Would you consider doing up a campaign for me if I waived the repair job costs?”
He’d said something wrong, he realized immediately from the way she stiffened. Lifting his hands in a conciliatory gesture, he offered, “We’ll draw up a contract. It’ll be strictly business. But as I was saying earlier, I sure could use some advice on that expansion John and I are planning.”
She hesitated then relaxed. “Let’s discuss that.”
Relieved she hadn’t taken him to task for the crazy offer, he nodded. “Sounds good.”
Rubbing at his throat, he went into the kitchen. “I hope you’ll make yourself at home. Just help yourself if you want drinks or food. I’ll warn you, I’m not the best host in the world. I’m a workaholic,” he ruefully admitted. “I plan to call my company, take a shower and then rest for a while. I’d suggest you two do the same.”
He opened the medication the doctor gave him for pain and downed two pills. He got a glass out of the cabinet next to the sink, slid it into the refrigerator door and filled it up, quickly swallowing the cold water.
At the giggle from the little kid, he turned his head, curious. “You got water out of there,” she informed him.
He blinked. “Yeah.”
“She’s never seen one of those before,” Stephanie said.
“Oh.” Shifting, he shrugged. Deciding to try to win the child’s friendship, he went to the cupboard and pulled out another glass. “You want to try?”
Her eyes lit up as if he’d offered her candy. She scampered across the room and grabbed the glass.
“Push it up against this, like so,” he said, and helped her.
“I can do it,” she informed him immediately and then pushed like he’d showed her and watched the water fill the glass—and overflow.
“Oh, dear,” Stephanie said, coming forward.
“No problem,” Ben said. “Why don’t you two go take a quick shower and I’ll wipe up the spill?”
Stephanie nodded. “Come on, Katie,” she said and slipping her hands to her daughter’s shoulders hurried her off.
Ben shook his head, found a cloth and wiped up the water running down the refrigerator.
Well, that had been an interesting almost conversation, he thought sardonically.
He hoped things eased between them or this was going to be a long few days.
He tossed the cloth into the sink, made a quick call to his office then headed for his room and the shower. It’d been a long morning, and surprisingly all he wanted to do was take a nice long cool shower and then get some shut-eye.
Unfortunately, as he was climbing out of the tub his phone kept him from doing just that. He grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms, slipped into them then snagged the phone.
“Hello?” Cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, he tied the drawstring and listened.
“Hi, Ben, it’s me, Sunni. Are you okay?”
Ben resisted the urge to sigh. He reached for a comb and quickly ran it through his hair be fore dropping to the bed next to him. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” He lay the comb on the bedside table.
Of course, he knew why she was asking about him. He should have known she’d have heard by now, especially the way word traveled in small towns, but he just hadn’t had time to think. No excuse—well, maybe two, which were in the other room sleeping right now.
“I called your office to ask about dinner Sunday, and John said you’d nearly been killed in a fire. Why didn’t you call me? I nearly fainted dead away over what John said!”
His sister tended to exaggerate a bit. The utter shock and excitement in her voice told him she was hyped up over this. He hadn’t meant to upset her so. Working to calm her down, he reassured her. “It’s okay, Sunni. My neighbor’s house caught fire. She, her daughter and I are fine.”
He didn’t want to say he’d gone inside if she didn’t know.
“You went in after them.”
Oh, well. So much for her not knowing that. He was really in for it now. She took a breath, not waiting for him to answer, and continued with her tirade.
“Are you crazy? Ben, that’s what firemen are trained to do, not citizens. I mean…” She paused.
He heard her take a deep breath. “You’re my only brother. I could have lost you.”
At the waver in her voice, he realized she was going to cry. Worried at that sound, the one sound that could cripple him, that sound that would bring any man to his knees, he knew he had to divert her, and quick. “Annie and her daughter are staying here. Katie is five, about Ronnie’s size,” he said.
“Veronica is six.”
“I know, but when I saw Katie I thought of Ronnie.”
“You and that infernal nickname,” Sunni muttered, no longer sounding in tears but put out with him. Relieved, he relaxed a bit.
“I wondered if you—”
“Wait a minute.”
He paused. “What?”
“You have a woman and child staying with you?”
She’d gone from crying to incredulous in under thirty seconds. That was his Sunni. “Yeah. They couldn’t very well stay in their house until they knew how bad the damage was. The doctor wanted to give them some medicine to help them rest and they would have had to stay in the hospital otherwise.”
“Doesn’t she have friends?”
Ben paused, stumped. “To be honest, I don’t know. She was in shock over her house. I was there. I offered.”
“She cried, didn’t she?”
Ben scowled at the phone. “I’m her neighbor,” he informed his nosy sister. “It was the right thing to do.”
“Well, that’s nice, Ben. I’m sure it is. But if they’re staying there… I mean, what are they doing about toiletries and clothes and—”
“Do you have any old clothes that Katie could borrow until tomorrow when we can go over to her house? I know it’s asking a lot, but—”
“No, it’s not. I’ll go through Veronica’s stuff and come right—”
“Over this evening.” He cut in, trying to slow his sister down. He’d diverted her into her helping mode. He usually shunned that mode of Sunni’s, but considering the alternative, he felt this was a great distraction.
“I’ll bring supper. David is offshore, working, and won’t be back for a few more days so I’d love to bring food over to eat. I hope you don’t mind. I mean, I know you’re not used to cooking for more than yourself.”
Ben realized his sister was right. A yawn caught him off guard. “Yeah. That sounds good, sis. Listen, I took some medication the doctor gave me and it’s kicking in. Can we discuss this around six o’clock tonight?”
“I’ll be there. And Ben?”
“Yeah?” he asked, shoving the covers back and reseating himself.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me, too, sis.”
“I love you.”
“You too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
He cradled the phone in its place and slipped under the covers. Talking with his sister was like a roller coaster ride of emotions. She was a very energetic person who cared deeply about him.
Raised by their elderly grandmother, he and Sunni shared a special relationship.
Being dropped off that day together, all alone, with just a suitcase of clothes had forced them to share a tighter bond than most siblings.
He should have called her first thing after he got home.
He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to do so.
Shaking his head, he allowed himself to relax, promising he’d make it up to her later tonight—when she came over for supper.
Chapter Five
One female in a bachelor’s household is disconcerting, two or more you just might as well give up and accept the inevitability of disaster.
—Ben’s Laws of Life
A giggle woke her.
Thinking it was her daughter, Stephanie rolled over and opened her eyes.
A boy, perhaps four or five, stood beside her bed, a big grin on his face, two crooked teeth sticking out as he smiled.
Dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Well, hello,” she said, shifting to sit up.
“That’s Justin. I’m Veronica.”
Stephanie glanced at the door where an older version of the child in front of her stood. The older child had perfectly straight teeth and long brown curly hair. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Stephanie.”
“Uncle Ben said you were Annie. He asked me to bring you this dress that Mom brought over.”
In her hands she held a dark blue house-dress—strings tied at the throat, short sleeves with a stretchy waist. It didn’t look like something she’d wear, but she was so very grateful for any feminine clothing she knew she would put it on and be happy with it.
“Thank you.” Stephanie accepted the dress from the girl.
“Mama brought dinner. Katie is already in there.”
“My daughter?”
Veronica grinned. “She’s helping Mama set the table. I got out of it because she wanted to do it. Uncle Ben said to let you sleep some until dinner.”
“I see. Well, then, why don’t you run on and tell him I’m up and I’ll be right there, okay?”
“Okay. Come on, Justin.”
She walked over and grabbed her brother’s hand.
“I wanna stay.”
“You can’t. She has to put her dress on,” the older sister ordered.
Justin didn’t argue but followed his sister out.
Stephanie quickly took off the shirt Ben had given her and slipped the dress on, trying to regain her equilibrium. She wasn’t used to waking up in a stranger’s house with unfamiliar children staring at her. To find out her daughter was with strangers was even more disconcerting.
She quickly brushed her hair and left the room, still barefoot but at least covered and semipresentable.
As she entered the living room she caught sight of Ben handing the silverware to his sister, who handed it to Katie. Stephanie paused and watched as her daughter carefully began laying out the forks and then knives and spoons. Everything else was on the table.
And it smelled delicious.
“Oh, you must be Annie,” a tall, willowy woman said from the kitchen. She came forward, reached out and hugged Stephanie.
“Actually, it’s Stephanie,” Stephanie corrected, accepting the hug.
“Stephanie?” She glanced at her brother in query then at Stephanie. “You poor thing. I heard what happened.” She reached for Stephanie and took her hand and squeezed it, then continued to hold it. “I’m Sunni, Ben’s older sister. I live over in Slaughter. When I understood what straits you were in I had to help. Hope you like smothered chicken and okra.” After releasing Stephanie’s hand, she motioned toward the table.
Stephanie nodded, her stomach grumbling in welcome of a meal. “It smells wonderful. I can’t believe I slept the day away.” Straits? She wondered just what Sunni meant by that statement and what Ben had told her.
She was also embarrassed that it was already dinnertime and she hadn’t awakened once during the day. Right now, however, what she really wanted was something to drink. Her throat still hurt, a painful reminder of the catastrophe that morning. But not just her throat hurt, she realized suddenly. For some reason so did the muscles in her arms and legs and back. Actually, she felt as if she’d run a marathon.
“Why don’t we go ahead and sit down and eat then,” Sunni said, interrupting Stephanie’s musings.
Ben dried his hands on a towel and crossed toward the dining room table. “I hear you met Sunni’s children.” He patted Sunni’s daughter on the shoulder as he passed her and rubbed Justin’s head. “Her husband, David, is offshore right now.” He stopped behind a chair, pulled it out and glanced at her. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to eat.”
Stephanie quickly crossed to the chair and allowed herself to be seated, surprised at the gesture but feeling oddly flustered.
Ben positioned himself next to his sister and then watched as the kids quietly pulled their napkins out and slipped them into their laps.
Well behaved, she’d give the kids that.
They immediately started dishing out food, however, which caused a problem with her daughter. Katie wasted no time in advising them how they had violated her routine. “Wait!”
Ben, who had just reached for the bread, paused, his eyes wide in surprise.
Stephanie blushed, not sure what to say. She knew exactly what the problem was.
“What is it, Katie?” Sunni asked before Stephanie had a chance to say a word.
“We can do it silently,” Stephanie offered.
Ben looked from one to the other. “Do what?”
“You didn’t pray,” Katie said, accusation in her voice. “You can’t eat until you do.”
It was obvious none of the others at the table had ever said grace before a meal. Sunni, however, smiled. “What a nice idea. Okay. Let’s pray. How do we do this now?”
Shocked, Stephanie thought surely Sunni was kidding. But the others didn’t look like she was kidding. Instead, they all stared at Katie.
“You have to bow your head like this.” Katie demonstrated by lowering her head until her chin touched her chest. She folded her hands and crooked her head, one eye opened and staring at them as she continued. “Then you close your eyes so no one can see you. Then you just talk.”
When she was certain they understood she scrunched her eyes shut. “Thank you, God, for this food. And that we aren’t hurt. And for Mommie and Mr. Ben and he saved our lives. Amen.”
Stephanie hadn’t been able to bow her head, she had been so stunned. She noted that Sunni had imitated Katie, as had her children. Ben belatedly tried to bow his head, but it was too late. With a sheepish glance at his sister he shifted the napkin in his lap.
“Amen,” Sunni echoed. “That’s very good manners, Katie. Do you think we can eat now?”
The sweet smile on Sunni’s face caused a reciprocal one to form on Katie’s. “Now we can.”
Sunni clapped. “Okay, everyone.”
Stephanie felt like apologizing but at the same time she was proud of her daughter. She hadn’t known what to do when they’d started to eat. Her daughter, however, hadn’t hesitated. And on top of that, Sunni had praised her.
Glancing up, she found Ben staring at her. He offered her a crooked smile. Relaxing, she decided to go on from there. She took a long sip of water, easing her dry throat, before accepting the chicken that was passed to her. She dished herself up something to eat.
“Did you teach Katie to do that, Stephanie?” Sunni asked as she passed the bread from her brother to Stephanie, pausing to put a piece on Justin’s plate.
“I suppose. It’s just something we’ve always done. Even at our church suppers we pray before our meals.”
“Oh. You go to church,” Sunni said, and started to cut up her son’s food.
“Yes. Down the road in Zachary, actually.”
“We’re not into church or religion,” Sunni confessed. “I guess I’ve never thought about it.”
She couldn’t believe Sunni had never been to church. “Never?”
“Well, we’ve been to a couple of funerals. But my husband and I were married by a justice of the peace. I’ve never been to Sunday service.”
Ben interrupted. “Our grandmother didn’t get out much.”
“Speaking of which.” Sunni cut in. “Do you have any friends we can call? Someone who might be worried about you?”
Stephanie filled her daughter’s plate, making sure to add some corn, Katie’s favorite, and then took a bite of the green beans she’d dished up for herself. “I guess I’m like your grandmother. I don’t get out much—just work and church. I don’t really get involved in church, not since…well…” She glanced at her daughter and changed the subject. “I know a few people in the business in Baton Rouge that I should contact, I suppose. They’re businesses I do contract work for on a regular basis.”
“What do you do?” Sunni asked.
Stephanie found herself relaxing as she sensed Sunni’s genuine interest in her.
“She’s into graphic designs and Web pages,” Ben said, tearing off a piece of roll and popping it in his mouth.
Well, that was close, Stephanie thought, smiling at Ben.
“I also do Internet advertisements, as well as other things,” she added.
“Ben, you should get Stephanie to design a Web site for your business,” Sunni said excitedly.
“I’m in discussions on that very subject,” Ben retorted, grinning.
Ben seemed so easygoing with his sister, al lowing her to rattle on, interjecting when he had a chance. He had obviously been very close to his sister growing up.
Sunni was a little older than her brother. The wrinkles around her eyes gave that away. Although she also had smile wrinkles around her mouth, her blue eyes sparkled with fun. Her short brown hair had some gray in it.
She didn’t look much like her brother, except for the smile.
“Your husband is offshore?” Stephanie asked, turning the topic from her to Sunni.
“Do you work, as well?”
“Oh, no. I’m a full-time mom. I used to work in banking, but I love staying at home,” Sunni said proudly.
“That’s why I like working out of my home,” Stephanie murmured, feeling a sudden connection with the woman.
“Isn’t that true. Being at home during the developmental years is so important. It’s tight sometimes, but I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.”
Ben chuckled. “I’m not sure how she does it.”
“Oh, you’re just too uptight around kids, Ben. You need to learn to loosen up and have fun.”
Stephanie could tell by the look on Ben’s face he had no idea how to be fun around kids. “I’ll stick with my buildings, thank you, sis.”
Sunni rolled her eyes. “You’d think after six years he would be used to kids. Of course, he works so much he rarely sees my angels.” Sunni managed to look down her nose at her brother. “I’ll break him of that one day.”
Katie giggled.
Stephanie smiled at her daughter, trying to picture Sunni and her brother standing toe to toe as Sunni railed at him for always working. Stephanie couldn’t picture it. Ben would tower over Sunni.
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Cheryl Wolverton
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: THE GOOD NEIGHBOR–ACTUALLY, THE BESTA woman couldn′ t ask for a better neighbor than Ben Mayeaux. He′ d saved Stephanie Webber and her daughter from their burning house, and this single mom couldn′ t thank him enough. Kind, strong and handsome, Ben had opened his home to them and helped in more ways than she could count, and soon Stephanie′ s feelings were taking on a more-than-neighborly slant.When days of healing and house repair turned into tender evenings, Stephanie wondered if this tried-and-true bachelor′ s home–and heart– would open permanently to a wife and rambunctious five-year-old.And if they did, could she heal her own past wounds, and love again?