Where Love Abides (Heartland Homecoming) Page 13

  “In plain English, Jenna and I stopped for burgers in St. Louis after we dropped my mom off at the airport yesterday. I brought most of mine home and forgot to refrigerate it. When I got hungry about ten o’clock last night, I ate it. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “You ate ground beef that had been sitting out for what…ten hours?”

  “I nuked it first. A little.”

  Shaking her head, Christine rolled her eyes. “Lie down, Dale. We’ll let Dr. Martin deal with this. I’m going to see how Jenna’s doing.”

  By the time Sam rang the bell twenty minutes later, Dale had made two more trips down the hall. If she didn’t feel so sorry for him, Christine would have given him a lecture on food-handling techniques. Except she figured he knew he’d been stupid and felt foolish enough already. Since he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who made many mistakes in judgment, she had to assume he’d been seriously preoccupied. She could think of no other reason for such a lapse.

  Pulling the door open, Christine ushered Sam in. “I seem to be calling you a lot lately, Dr. Martin. Thanks for coming.”

  “I think we know each other well enough by now to switch to first names, don’t you?” One corner of his mouth hitched up.

  “I guess we do.”

  “So what’s the problem with Dale? He never gets sick.”

  As she relayed the sheriff’s self-diagnosis, Sam nodded. “Sounds like he’s right on the money. But you never know. It could be something else. Where is he?”

  “In the bedroom.”

  As he started down the hall, he paused long enough to smile at Jenna. “How are you today, princess?”

  “I’m fine. But daddy’s real sick.”

  “Well, we’re going to fix him all up.”

  While he examined Dale, Christine kept Jenna occupied by reading her one of the books Arlene had checked out of the library. When Sam stepped into the hall ten minutes later, closing the door behind him, she popped in a video and left Jenna to enjoy the on-screen adventure while she dealt with the real-life drama.

  “I think he’s right.” Sam kept his voice low as Christine joined him in the hall. “He has all the classic symptoms of salmonella, and they’re on the severe side. My biggest concern is dehydration. If he continues to lose fluids at this rate we’ll need to think about electrolyte replacement.”

  “How serious is this?” Christine tried to suppress her anxiety, but a slight tremor ran through her words.

  “It can be very dangerous, especially for older people, young children and those with impaired immune systems. The good news is that Dale doesn’t fall into any of those categories. Plus, he’s in great shape. However, his life isn’t going to be too pleasant for the next couple of days, and I expect he’ll be tired for several more days after that. It’s unfortunate his mother is on vacation. He’s not up to taking care of himself, let alone Jenna.”

  “I wonder if he’d let me help?” Christine wasn’t sure where that idea had come from, but Sam seemed to take it in stride.

  “It might be worth suggesting. Dale isn’t the kind of guy who likes to admit he needs help, but in this case, he does. And if the offer comes from a friend, he might be more inclined to take it.”

  “We’re not exactly friends.” Warmth stole onto her cheeks.

  “That’s odd.” A quizzical expression flitted over Sam’s features. “I had a different impression just now from Dale.”

  Although she was tempted to ask him to explain that comment, Christine figured such a request would fuel speculation. Better to let it pass. “I suppose it can’t hurt to offer.”

  “If he’s smart, he won’t turn you down.”

  As Christine showed the doctor out, she considered Sam’s comment. Dale was smart. Meaning that in light of their tempestuous relationship, he might consider it wise to refuse her offer. Why would he want a woman who’d treated him with hostility hanging around his house, taking care of him and his daughter?

  But a more disturbing question followed closely on the heels of that one.

  Why would she want to offer?

  Concern for Jenna’s well-being was one reason, of course. But if she was honest with herself, Christine knew it wasn’t the only one. Or even the primary one.

  The main reason was Dale himself.

  Because as much as she hated to admit it, and as much as it scared her, Oak Hill’s sheriff had somehow managed to breach the barriers around her heart.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Is daddy sleeping?”

  Tiptoeing down the hall, Christine smiled at an anxious Jenna. “Yes. And that’s a good thing. The more he rests, the faster he’ll get better.”

  “Are you really going to stay here with us all night?” Jenna eyed the overnight bag Christine had left in the hall after she’d returned from a quick trip home and to the grocery store with the youngster in tow.

  “Yes. It will be like a slumber party.” Dale’s quick acceptance of her offer was one more indication of how sick he was.

  “Can we stay up late and watch a bunch of movies?”

  “Not too late. We’ve both had a long day. But one movie would be okay.”

  “I like Beauty and the Beast.”

  “That sounds good to me—after we have some dinner.” As Christine moved about Dale’s tiny kitchen, sharing giggles with Jenna while the youngster “helped” her, a wistful longing tightened her throat. This was what she’d always wanted…a home of her own, filled with love and laughter and the voices of children. Though she’d given up that dream, being in Dale’s house reminded her of what could have been had her marriage to Jack been all she’d hoped.

  Even after everything that had happened, she found it hard to believe she’d been so easily duped. Until Jack, her instincts about people had always been sound. But that error in judgment had shaken her confidence. If she’d been wrong about him, how could she ever be sure about anyone? As a result, walking a wide circle around men in general—and sheriffs in particular—seemed the prudent thing to do. If loneliness was the price she had to pay to protect her heart, it was well worth it.

  At least it had been, until a certain sheriff with an angelic, blond-haired daughter had stepped into her life and undermined her resolve. Dale’s honor and integrity appeared to be as real and sincere as Jenna’s innocence and enthusiasm. But appearances could be deceiving. And she’d made one big mistake. She couldn’t afford to make another.

  “The biscuits smell good, Ms. Christine.”

  Reining in her wayward thoughts, she smiled at the little girl. “I always bake biscuits on special occasions.”

  “Is this a special occasion?”

  “Of course. It’s not every day that I get to have dinner with the prettiest little girl in Oak Hill.”

  A grin brightened Jenna’s face. “We have biscuits sometimes. But they come in a can.”

  “Those are good, too. But I got this recipe from my mother, and it’s even better.”

  “We have some recipes from my mommy.” Jenna carried a glass of water to the table, holding it with both hands. “My daddy fixes her meat loaf every week. I don’t remember her, though. She died when I was little.”

  “My mommy died, too.”

  “Do you miss her?” Turning from the table, Jenna regarded her with solemn eyes.

  “All the time.”

  With a sigh, Jenna went back to setting the table. “I asked Daddy if I could get a new mommy, like that little boy in the book you read at story hour, but he said it wouldn’t be easy. I guess that means no.” She studied Christine, her expression hopeful as she climbed onto her chair. “You’d be a good mommy.”

  Christine swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat as she cut up some chicken on Jenna’s plate. “Thank you, honey.”

  “I told Daddy I wished you were my mommy.”

  Taking her seat, Christine tried to suppress the warm flush that crept up her neck and spilled onto her cheeks. Dale must have loved that, she mused.
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  “He kind of looked the way you look now when I told him that.” Jenna speared a piece of meat and twirled it on her fork as she watched Christine.

  Deciding that a change of subject was in order, Christine buttered a biscuit and set it on Jenna’s plate. “Let’s eat up or everything will get cold.”

  “Aren’t we going to pray first?”

  Feeling chastised, Christine lowered her fork to the table. For most of her life, she wouldn’t have considered eating without offering thanks to God first. But she’d gotten out of the habit in the past two years. “Of course. Would you like to say the prayer?”

  “Okay.” Jenna folded her hands and bowed her head. “Thank you for this good food, God. And thank you for sending Ms. Christine to our house today. Please help Daddy get well real fast. And please bless all the people in the world who are hungry tonight. Amen.”

  With Christine steering the conversation, they managed to avoid colliding with any more embarrassing topics during the meal. Later, after the kitchen was put back in order, they snuggled on the couch, an afghan thrown over them as they watched the movie. Christine kept one ear tuned to Dale’s bedroom, but she’d learned that he didn’t like to be fussed over when he was sick. Other than refilling his water pitcher and encouraging him to keep drinking, she’d respected his privacy.

  The good news was that the frequency of his trips down the hall to the bathroom had declined quite a bit, and he was sleeping a lot. She suspected that in a day or two he’d be well on the road to recovery.

  As the movie progressed, Jenna’s eyelids began to droop. Easing her closer, Christine put her arm around the little girl, enjoying the warm, trusting little body close to hers. Stroking Jenna’s hair, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, savoring the moment and enjoying this brief, tantalizing taste of motherhood.

  By the movie’s halfway point, Jenna gave up the fight to stay awake. Christine reduced the volume and, lulled by the background noise, she also grew drowsy. Long before the final credits ran, she, too, had surrendered to sleep.

  Jenna’s bed was empty.

  For an instant, a suffocating panic swept over Dale as he scanned her room. And then he remembered. He was sick. Christine was taking care of Jenna. But why wasn’t his daughter in bed? He’d checked the clock on his nightstand, and it was way past her bedtime.

  Padding down the hall to the living room, his bare feet soundless on the carpet, he solved the mystery in one glance. The TV set was on, the screen a blank blue, as if a video had run out. Across from it, on the couch, Jenna was snuggled up against Christine. Both of them were sound asleep.

  Jenna looked adorable, as always. But it was Christine who drew his attention. Her head was tilted a bit toward Jenna and tipped back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. Dale had never seen her look more relaxed. Gone was the taut wariness that stiffened her features and tensed her body, giving the impression that she was poised to flee at the slightest hint of danger. Her lips were pliant and full, her breathing deep and regular, the soft mohair of her forest-green sweater rising and falling in an even cadence. One stocking-footed, jeans-clad leg was tucked under her, and Jenna lay sprawled against her side.

  Tenderness tightened Dale’s throat as he gazed at them. They looked good together, the auburn-haired woman and the blond little girl. And comfortable. Under different circumstances, he’d be inclined to consider Jenna’s idea about drafting Christine as her new mommy. After all, his daughter wasn’t the only one who found the mystery lady appealing.

  But she had problems. Big ones, from what he could gather. Not just in terms of the law, but on a personal level. The trauma that had made her wary had left serious scars that could affect her—and whoever became involved with her—for the rest of their lives.

  Dale had been down that road. And much as he was growing to care for Christine, he couldn’t let himself get too close to another fragile, damaged woman. He’d do what he could to expunge her police record. And he’d pray that the Lord would help her heal once she was free of her past. But he couldn’t do anything more, no matter how much his daughter wanted a mother. And no matter how attracted he was to the woman who looked so at home in his living room.

  Fortifying his resolve, he crossed the room and reached for Jenna, doing his best to extricate her from the circle of Christine’s arms without waking either.

  He succeeded with Jenna, but Christine stirred. For a moment she seemed disoriented—and alarmed to find him bending close to her. Blinking away slumber, she sucked in a sharp breath and pulled back.

  “It’s okay. You both fell asleep. I’m going to put Jenna to bed.” Dale kept his voice low and reassuring as he cupped his daughter’s head against his shoulder and straightened up.

  “You shouldn’t be out of bed. I can take her.” Christine started to rise, but when she tried to stand on the leg that had been tucked under her she lurched toward him.

  Keeping a firm clasp on Jenna, Dale grabbed Christine’s arm to steady her.

  “My leg went to sleep,” she whispered, trying without much success to put her weight on it.

  “Just sit tight till I get back. In my present condition, I can’t support both of you.” Dale flashed her a brief grin, then disappeared down the hall.

  When he returned, Christine was perched on the edge of the couch, her leg stretched out in front of her as she wiggled her foot.

  She scrutinized him as he approached. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than this morning.”

  “I don’t think that would be too difficult.”

  “True.” Quiet descended in the dim room, and he wished he had pockets in his sweatpants. It would give him something to do with his hands, which suddenly felt awkward. For lack of any other options, he picked up the remote and turned off the TV. The room went dark, masking expressions, and he relaxed a bit. “Listen, I want to thank you for all you did today. I’m sorry if I was a bit grumpy earlier. I don’t handle being sick very well.”

  “So I discovered.”

  He listened for resentment in her tone, but to his surprise he heard a touch of wry humor instead. “I also appreciate your offer to stay tonight, but it’s not necessary. I’ll be okay, and I doubt Jenna will wake up until morning.”

  “You didn’t look too steady carrying her down the hall.”

  He couldn’t dispute her observation. His featherweight daughter had felt like a stack of concrete blocks in his arms. Dale had had the flu a few years back, and it had left him weak and shaky. But this was far worse. In truth, he’d welcome the presence of an able-bodied adult overnight. And Christine’s was the sole offer he’d had.

  When he didn’t respond at once, Christine rose. Even in the dim light, he could see from her posture that the familiar stiffness was back. “I don’t want to intrude. I’ll get my things.”

  As she started to brush past him, he grasped her arm. He hadn’t meant to offend her, but now that she was inches away, he could see the hurt in the depths of her brown eyes. “You’re not intruding, Christine.” His words were soft, her name on his lips a mere whisper.

  He couldn’t read her shadowy face, but he felt a tremor run through her. At the sudden current that sizzled between them, his heart stopped, then raced on. His gaze dropped to her slightly parted lips and his mouth went dry as a yearning surged inside him, tempting him to close the distance between them and taste her lips, touch her soft hair, hold her close. The urge was so strong that he leaned a bit toward her and began to lift his other arm.

  Then fate intervened—in the form of salmonella. All at once his stomach twisted into a knot, and without another word he stepped around her and hotfooted it down the hall.

  She was standing by the front door when he reappeared a few minutes later, her overnight case on the floor beside her. She’d flipped on a light in the living room, dispelling the charged mood of a few minutes earlier, and her car keys were in her hand.

  Eating crow had never been Dale’s strong sui
t. But this last little episode had wiped him out, and his temperature hadn’t yet dropped below one hundred. Like it or not, he needed help. “I’ve had some second thoughts.”

  “Are you worse? Should I call Sam?” Creases appeared on her brow.

  “No. I think my symptoms are normal, given the diagnosis.” He leaned against the wall, needing the support. “But this thing has knocked me flat. I’d feel better if someone else was here, for Jenna’s sake. I just hate for you to have to sleep on the couch.”

  “It’s no big deal. I’ve spent far less comfortable nights.”

  If he was feeling up to par, Dale would have pursued that pain-rippled comment. As it was, all he wanted to do was lie down. “You’ll stay, then?”

  “Yes. Do you need help getting back to the bedroom?”

  “I think I can manage. Thanks.” His mouth quirked up at one corner, and with an effort he pushed off from the wall, doing his best not to sway. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As he walked the length of the short hall, he knew Christine was watching him. Had she sensed that he’d wanted to kiss her? Her reaction had been impossible to discern in the darkness, but surely she’d felt the spark between them. Yet given their history, wouldn’t she have pulled back if she had? She’d wanted no part of him up until now, and there was no reason to think her attitude had softened enough to allow for the possibility of romance. But how could she have been unaware of the powerful undercurrents?

  Closing his door, Dale stretched out on his bed, every muscle in his body aching. And as sleep transported him to welcome oblivion, he concluded that Christine couldn’t have missed those vibrations. Yet, like him, she would fight them—for reasons he was beginning to understand.

  But there were still far too many things he didn’t understand about the mystery lady. And as soon as he got back on his feet, he was going to get some answers to his questions.

  “If I never see another banana again, it will be too soon.”

  At Dale’s morose expression, Christine burst out laughing. She wiped the dishcloth across the kitchen counter, gathering up the crumbs from the breakfast she’d prepared for Jenna before taking her to preschool.