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And on his back he could feel the eyes of two white women, forbidden territory.
Del watched Mike Windwalker stride away to his door, thinking he was an extremely attractive man, from his face to those narrow hips cased in worn denim. And she liked the coppery color of his skin, such a contrast to her own ghastly paleness. All her life she wished she could tan rather than freckle. Ah, well, she wasn’t in the market for a man, any man.
Then she looked down at her daughter. “You getting hungry?”
“Could be.” Colleen grinned.
“How hungry?”
“Um …” Colleen pretended to think it over. “Just teensy hungry right now. Big hungry comes later.”
“Fair enough.” She reached for the grips on the back of the wheelchair and heard an immediate protest.
“Mom! I can do it myself.”
Del had to smile. Colleen’s independence and upbeat attitude always made her smile … except when it made her cry for what her daughter had lost. “Okay, okay. I’ll just get the door.”
“I want chips!”
“Whole-grain pretzels.”
“Sheesh, Mom, I have a growing brain. I need the fat.”
“Smarty pants.”
“I learned it in biology.”
“You learn too much in biology.”
In the kitchen, which was still awaiting renovations, the dust layered everything. No way to avoid it at this stage of restoration, so Del grabbed a wet rag and wiped down just enough of it to feed her daughter some pretzels without all the plaster dust. In other parts of the house, near open windows, big fans tried to suck dust out of the house. They helped but not entirely. Just as the plastic she hung over the door to the kitchen didn’t completely prevent the dust from getting in.
As she was wiping around the sink, she noticed the window beside it was unlocked. She paused, wondering how that had happened. She never opened the windows in here because she didn’t want to create a draft that would suck the dust in around the edges of the plastic.
Damn, she couldn’t remember. For all she knew it had been unlocked for weeks or more. She might have done it in the way she did so many things, while thinking of something else. Except, she wouldn’t have closed it without locking it again, would she?
Hell. As forgetful as she seemed to be getting lately, it was silly even to wonder about it. Maybe one of the workmen or deliverymen had opened it briefly.
Sighing, she reached out to flip the lock closed.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked after she’d put a couple of large pretzels on a plate.
“Soda.”
Del faced her daughter. “You do this to drive me crazy, right?”
Colleen giggled. “No.” But the way she giggled had given lie to her denial.
Del laughed herself. “You know what’s in the fridge.”
“Yeah. Darn it. Wouldn’t you know I’d have a health freak for a mom?”
“Such a curse.” But Del couldn’t help feeling a pang. Her daughter wanted the same simple things every other kid her age wanted. Having to take extra care about her weight because her activities were limited only made it harder for both of them. “Okay,” she said. “Tell you what. I’ll get some diet soda at the store next time. Will that do?”
“I’ll love you forever.” An impish smile. “Can I have cranberry juice?”
“Always.” Del pulled a bottle of low-calorie juice from the fridge, rinsed a glass to remove any dust, filled it and handed it to Colleen. “Dr. Windwalker seems really nice.”
Before Colleen could answer, there was a buzz that sounded almost like laughter, and the girl pulled out her cell phone. “Yeah,” she answered absently as she scanned the screen then started rapidly texting a reply. The tap-tap of the keys was a counterpoint to every waking moment of the day. “Can I go over to Mary Jo’s for a sleepover tomorrow?”
“Sure, once I clear it with her mom.” Colleen had adapted amazingly well to her disability—so well that Del wondered if some of it weren’t just show to protect her mother—and the parents of her friends were more than ready to do the extra care Colleen required. Mary Jo’s mom had even installed handicap bars in her bathroom. But Del always felt she had to clear it.
“Mary Jo says her mom says to stop worrying about it.”
That sounded like Beth Andrews, for certain. “Okay, but tell Mary Jo to tell her mom to call me anyway.”
“Sheesh.” The word was accompanied by a small frown as the tapping resumed. “Okay, she’ll call.” Colleen looked up. “I guess I need to go back outside?”
“Just for a bit, sweetie. I’m done making dust for the day, but I want to get rid of some more of it and let the rest settle safely.”
Colleen had a little flip tray on her wheelchair and she had set the pretzels on it. The drink created a problem, however.
Del didn’t wait for the question. “Why don’t I carry your food out while you resume the neighborhood watch?”
That at least earned another laugh. Unfortunately, with all the dust, and later with the chemicals she would need to use for stripping and varnishing, it was best if Colleen remained outside as much as possible. Colleen didn’t seem to mind—texting seemed to be her major absorption, and sometimes friends came over to gather on the front porch with popcorn and beverages. Three days a week she went to physical therapy. School also occupied a good deal of her time except over the summers, and Del hoped to have the messiest of the work done on this house before school let out.
After she settled Colleen on the porch, she went back inside to get out her shop vacuum and start cleaning up as much as she could. Because it was still late spring, the afternoon would start getting chilly soon, and she wanted Colleen to come inside before it did.
Back inside with the inexplicable scratchings and bangings. Those concerned her. At first when Colleen had mentioned them, Del had assumed there were vermin in the attic and hadn’t been too troubled. But now, having checked everywhere she could and never having heard the sounds herself, she worried about more than vermin.
She worried about why Colleen might imagine such sounds. Worried about whether she needed to mention them to Colleen’s doctor or wait a little longer to see what developed.
At the back of her mind, she never quite escaped the feeling that another shoe was about to drop. Maybe it was just because once the worst happened to you, you never felt entirely safe again. And losing her husband and having her daughter paralyzed by an auto accident had been pretty much the worst she ever wanted to imagine.
But there was also the sense that Colleen had adapted too well and too quickly to losing the use of her legs. Oh, at first there had been plenty of tears and despair, many cries of “I wish I could have died, too.” But in a matter of just a month or so, those feelings seemed to have evaporated, leaving an unexpectedly cheerful and uncomplaining daughter.
Del kept thinking that at least once in a while Colleen ought to complain about something. But the child never did. At least not around her. Another concern. She didn’t want Colleen to feel as if she had to hide negative feelings from her, that she had to be strong for her mom. That would be an unfair and heavy burden for any child that age, including Colleen.
And then, sometimes she even worried about herself. Because while Colleen might be hearing sounds, Del herself seemed to be becoming a bit too forgetful, and maybe even imaginative. A couple of times in the past few weeks she’d come home after leaving the house empty to find things out of place. At least she thought they were out of place. And each time she had the distinct impression someone had been in the house.
Which was utterly insane, because she locked the place up tight every single time she and Colleen went out. There were simply too many valuable tools and construction supplies lying around to take any chance.
So she had to be forgetting where she left stuff. Not a good sign, but probably not all that abnormal either.
Del sighed heavily, pulled on her dust mask and picked up the hose to vacuum the living room she’d been working on. One room at a time to try to keep the mess under control. Damn dust still managed to seep everywhere.
Flipping houses had been a good idea overall after the accident that took Don and disabled Colleen. With the life insurance money, she’d been able to buy a fixer-upper, and with the skills learned growing up on a farm, studying architectural engineering in college, and some heavy-duty studying to fill the gaps, she’d learned most of the trades necessary to turn a mess into a desirable property. Things had gone well, mostly, although at the moment she still had one property she hadn’t been able to sell in this belt-tightening time, or even to rent to someone.
But her bank account was still healthy enough, and living in the houses she worked on made the expense easier to bear. This week, however, she’d need the electrician, as well as a plumber to help with the downstairs bath she intended to add. Those would be big bills, but necessary to ensure the house was up to code. At the moment it most certainly was not.
Living in the house she was working on also made it possible to keep an eye on Colleen. She couldn’t have the girl in one house while she worked on another, and her aunt Sally wasn’t up to taking full responsibility. Yes, Aunt Sally helped out when needed, especially at times when Del needed to be away to purchase materials, but Sally was getting up in years and at best could only keep an eye on Colleen and make sure she got decent meals.
Although even the need for Sally’s help was beginning to pass. Colleen had learned tricks for getting herself in and out of bed, getting up off the floor if she fell for some reason, and she could even manage to cook a little, though that was difficult in a kitchen that wasn’t designed for someone in a chair. And in a worst-case scenario, Colleen always had her phone within a couple of inches.
Still, Del worried. How could she not? She didn’t want Colleen to have another bad experience of some kind, and total independence still lay in the future.
As she vacuumed the dust that coated the living room after a day spent pulling out damaged plaster, she chewed her lip behind her mask and tried to tell herself that everything would work out for Colleen in time.
She had to believe that.
Then her thoughts drifted back to Mike Windwalker. He was a reserved guy. She’d already noted that he didn’t seem inclined to chat for long with neighbors. Shy? Maybe.
But, Lord, he was good-looking. Male eye candy, and she didn’t usually respond to that. Or maybe it had just been so long since she’d been with a man that her libido was acting up.
The thought made her chuckle quietly. Well, if it had to act up, it had chosen a great object for attention. She could watch that man walk up his driveway any day.
And maybe, with a tiny bit of effort, she could break through that reserve and get to know him a bit. She liked to know her neighbors, especially now. It made her feel safer, and certainly safer for Colleen.
A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she switched off the vacuum for a minute. Maybe it was the confluence of her thoughts, but Colleen had recently asked for a kitten. Who better to ask about getting one than the local vet who lived next door?
And maybe a kitten would make Colleen feel safer from those scratchings she heard. Certainly it wouldn’t hurt to find out if a cat could help with mice in the walls … if indeed there were mice.
Finally she switched the vacuum on again and resumed her task. A cat might be the answer to a number of things.
Or not.
She made up her mind to talk to Mike Windwalker about it soon. A cat, or maybe a small dog, depending on what he thought might handle small vermin better. But nothing too big, given Colleen’s paralysis. Something small and cuddly that would chase away the mice.
Because either there were mice in these walls or something worrisome was happening to Colleen.
And the latter was an idea she refused to entertain.
Chapter 2
Del loved Saturday mornings because she put aside her work and devoted her full attention to Colleen. Yes, they usually had errands to run, things like grocery shopping, but it was still time spent together without the intervention of work or school. Sometimes, like today, they even took in a matinee at the movies.
Today they had gone to see a silly animated film that had made them laugh heartily, and then afterward she had dropped Colleen at Mary Jo’s for the night.
Sunday was always a day off, too, for her at least, but there was church in the morning, and the inevitable socializing that went with it after the service, and then Colleen usually spent the afternoon on schoolwork. Often, by then, Del felt tired enough to need a nap.
So Saturdays were a special time for them both: no school, no work, no therapists.
This Saturday, however, as she drove home from dropping Colleen at Mary Jo’s, Del realized she felt reluctant to go home. She tried to tell herself not to be ridiculous, that these brief times to herself without work should be prized, and that she deserved the break as much as Colleen deserved to have fun with her friends at a sleepover.
But a weird kind of edginess troubled her anyway in the waning afternoon light. She couldn’t put her finger on the source, and she finally decided that she must have forgotten to do something and would remember it later.
As she turned into her driveway and stopped the car, she looked up at the house and felt a totally inexplicable impulse to just drive away.
Now that was crazy! Had Colleen’s talk of noises gotten to her?
She made herself climb out of the car, but still she hesitated. Not very long, thank goodness, because she heard another vehicle and turned to see Mike Windwalker pulling up next door. She waved, trying to smile in a friendly fashion, and he nodded to her as he braked then switched off his truck.
The usual thing would be for her to continue into her house. She’d greeted him, so she didn’t have to remain outside. But something pushed her across the ragged, patchy lawn toward him.
He climbed out of his vehicle, wearing a dark blue chambray shirt and jeans, not very different from what she wore, and she thought that an instant of surprise passed over his strong features. If so, it vanished quickly.
“Hi,” he said as she approached.
She heard an odd note of caution in his tone, couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t matter anyway because she was already committed. She’d started closing the distance between them and now couldn’t simply turn away.
“Hi,” she said. Now what? She couldn’t exactly tell him that for some reason she didn’t want to go into her house. Then she remembered the kitten question. “Can I ask you something? If you’d rather I make an appointment, I’ll understand.” She gave an uneasy laugh. “Asking for a neighbor’s professional opinion for free is something I usually avoid.”
A slow smile dawned on his face. God, he was good-looking. “I don’t mind. You never know when I might have a professional question for you.”
She gave another laugh. “Fair enough. Colleen’s been asking for a kitten. And I got to thinking yesterday, what with the possibility of mice in the walls, that might not be a bad thing. Then I wondered if a small dog would be better.”
He leaned back against his van, folding his arms, and in the process thrust his hips forward. Oh, she didn’t want to notice those narrow hips again. She dragged her gaze back to his face.
“That depends,” he said easily. Apparently on familiar ground, he felt comfortable. She could identify with that, since she was definitely off comfortable ground herself right now. “What would be easiest for you? There are some good small dogs that would take care of mice and rats, but dogs need more attention than cats. Walks and so on. On the other hand, not every cat is a good mouser.”
“Really?” That surprised her.
“Really. It depends a lot on how the kitten is raised. Most learn to hunt from their mothers, whereas with some dogs, you’ve got a strong inbred instinct and territoriality.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“Most people don’t. If you really want a good mouser, I can check around the local ranches for a barn cat, but that’s more likely to be less a pet than a hunter.”
Del sighed. “I had no idea this could be so complicated.”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “You’re not alone. Just ask yourself what you want more from a pet. If it’s something cute and cuddly that would like to spend time on Colleen’s lap, I’ll find you something good.”
“Well, she can’t walk a dog very far yet, unless it’s really well behaved. On the other hand, would a kitten hang around or take off?”
“Despite what some folks think, if you get a young kitten it can be trained to tolerate a collar, and even a leash. Not as easily with a dog, but cats are smart. When they realize they can’t win, they give up.”
Again she laughed, this time more comfortably. “So how long would that take?”
“I can probably do it for you in about a week.”
She felt surprise. “You’d do that?”
“Of course. No charge. If Colleen really wants a kitten then I’d be glad to give her one that won’t run off.”
Del bit her lip. “It’s just that I try to keep Colleen outside as much as possible when I’m making a lot of dust or using chemicals. I don’t want her to suffer any harm. And I sure wouldn’t want to bring an animal into an environment where it would have to be inside all the time with that stuff either.”
“We’re agreed then. Kitten or puppy?”
“Maybe I’m nuts, but if you think it’s okay, I’d rather give her what she wants.”
