Читать книгу A Time To Give - Kathryn Shay - Страница 9

THE COCKER SPANIEL WAS BEAUTIFUL, with its big soulful eyes, delicate features and golden red fur. When Ben entered Cassidy Place and saw her in the partially enclosed alcove, curled up on a bed of blankets, he couldn’t resist kneeling in front of her. “Hey, Lady, what are you doing here?”

The dog stood, barking first before nuzzling into his neck. He held her there a minute, mesmerized by the throb of her body—and the little bodies obviously inside her. “You make me miss my girl, Lady.”

“Want a puppy?” He didn’t have to turn to see who was behind him. That soft voice and that body had haunted his dreams for two weeks since the night in the parking lot when he’d touched her.

He stood while the dog continued to sniff him. “No can do. But thanks.” Emily was dressed for dance class again. This time, the tights and leotard were dark wine under the black skirt. “How are you, Emily?”

“I’m fine. We missed you last week.”

“I, um, had something else to do.” Which was to avoid her. He wouldn’t have come to the soup kitchen tonight if Trey hadn’t called earlier. After he’d hung up, Ben’s isolation had become too big for him to handle. “So this is Lady.”

“Uh-huh.” Emily hugged the dog. “How’re you feeling, girl?”

“When’s she due?”

“Not for ten days.” She looked up at Ben, the scoop of her form-fitting spandex top revealing the top of her breasts. “I leave her alone all day and now, at night, she cries when I go out. Hormones,” she said, a twinkle in her beautiful eyes, which were more brown than green tonight. “So I brought her with me.”

Hormones were something Ben knew a lot about. Especially these past few weeks. His body had been in hibernation for two years and he was pissed that Emily had woken it up.

“She looks close to ready.” He’d delivered his own dog’s pups once, so he could read the signs.

“I know. And she was restless tonight.” She rose. “Go back and lie down, girl.”

The dog obeyed.

Emily folded her arms across her waist. “Have you been well?”

“As well as can be expected.”

She cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

He ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair, which needed a trim. “Nothing.” He glanced over her shoulder. “It’s slow tonight.”

“Yes. Sit at my table. I’ll bring your food. It’s fried chicken. Your favorite.”

Damn, he wished she wouldn’t do that—keep track of him, try to please him. It made resisting her all the harder. He took a seat at the table she indicated. Max, who was a recovering alcoholic and on unemployment, nodded. “How’s it goin’, Ben?”

“Just fine. You?”

“Twenty weeks and countin’.” The man sipped his coffee.

Ben gave him the thumbs-up.

Across from Max was Lorena. Every week she sat in the same chair and spoke to no one but Emily. She wore hats no matter what the weather and covered herself, albeit in tattered clothes, from head to foot. She also stowed most of her food in plastic bags, odd containers and napkins. He nodded to her, but she looked away. The only others at the table were a family of five he’d seen here occasionally, but didn’t know personally. The man—the father?—had gone to get some giveaways, and the woman was frantically trying to seat her three children. “Here, let me help.” Ben hefted one of the toddlers, who appeared to be about two. “What’s his name?”

“Mohammed,” the woman told him in accented English. Ben guessed they were one of the many refugee families who frequented Cassidy Place. “And this is Anwar and Tidi.” The youngest curled into her chest, secured by a long scarf. The woman herself was dressed in matching colorful robes.

Ben seated the boy, who began to bang on the tray.

“Thank you.” The woman’s smile was weary.

The father returned carrying a plastic bag. Periodically, when the soup kitchen had extra, vegetables and bread were set out for the guests on a long table. When Ben had been in charge, if there had been no donations for a week, he’d supplied them out of his own pocket.

“I was able to obtain bread and carrots and lettuce,” the man said.

His wife sighed. Most people had no idea what it was like to live hand to mouth, Ben thought. Many of the impoverished would work but couldn’t find jobs. Ben hadn’t known any of this, not really, until he’d experienced his own downslide. His heart went out to them.

The meal was served and Ben tried hard not to watch Emily, but his gaze kept tracking her as she glided over the floor like the dancer that she was. He wondered what she did for a living—not dance, he knew that. Did she like her job? Who were her friends? Did she have a guy in her life?

When she brought his meal, her arm brushed against him and he felt it all the way to his toes. “Thanks,” he muttered hoarsely.

She placed plates in front of the family and asked what to do with Mohammed’s dinner. “Set it here,” the mother said. “I’ll feed him first.”

“No need.” Emily pulled up a chair. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

The boy looked up at her. He babbled something in his native language. “Hungry, aren’t you, little guy?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see her cut the boy’s food. She fed him some chicken and let him spoon up his own mashed potatoes. The few minutes she spent with the child gave the mother an opportunity to eat. When the second boy, Anwar, started to whine, Ben leaned over. “What do you need, buddy?”

He pointed to his milk.

The mother tried to adjust the baby in the front makeshift knapsack. “Wait for a minute, Ani.”

“I’ll get it.” Ben helped the four-year-old sip. Over the child’s head, he caught Emily’s gaze. The approval there warmed him. He smiled, genuinely, without holding back. Her eyes darkened and she focused on his mouth.

He glanced away, affected by that look. So when he finished his dessert, he decided to head out. He preferred to wait until the evening was over to help close up, but he needed to get away from Emily. Unfortunately, she caught his arm when he was halfway to the door.

“Leaving already?”

“Yes.”

“I wish you’d stay. Talk a while.”

“I told you two weeks ago that kind of thing wasn’t a good idea.”

Her cute little chin tilted. “Says you.”

“Yep. Says me. Night, ma’am.”

On his way out, he heard some rustling in the alcove where the dog was resting. Lady was up, pacing. Ben frowned. “Hey, girl, you all right?” As he petted her head, he noticed she was shivering. Uh-oh. On the other side of the room, Ben saw Emily at the counter and motioned her over.

She hurried to him. “What’s going on?”

He nodded down to the dog, who’d begun to pant. “I think you’re about to become a grandmother.”

“Oh, dear. It’s too early. What should I do?”

“Hopefully, we won’t have to do anything. But find some newspapers.” He rolled up his sleeves. “It’s okay, girl, I’m here. And I’ve done this before.”

EMILY STRETCHED OUT on her couch in the great room of her house and watched Lady feed her five puppies in a nest set up for them by the fireplace. Exhausted, she yawned. She knew she should take a nap, but she didn’t want to leave them just yet. What a night! It had taken five hours for the pups to make their debut. And there had been complications. Thankfully Ben was there. He’d had to tug one puppy out and clean two from their sacs. She knew from what she’d read they could have died without his help.

Alice had stayed, too, and they’d loaded Lady and her pups into Emily’s car at about 3:00 a.m.

Before she’d left, Emily had stood by her Taurus in the parking lot with Ben. For the first time since she’d known him, he looked truly happy.

“I’m glad I was here.” He leaned against the side of the car, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s a thrill, isn’t it, to see new life into the world?”

“Yes.” They shared that bond now. “I wish you’d take one of the puppies when they’re weaned.”

“I’d like nothing better. But my situation precludes that.” There was that extensive vocabulary again.

Apparently riding high from adrenaline, he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Take good care of them.”

Before she thought better about it, she stood on tiptoes and slid her arms around his neck. He stilled for a minute, then his arms encircled her waist and he drew her closer. He was all muscle and steely strength. His lips brushed her hair. “You’d better go.”

She stepped back.

“Good night,” he’d said and walked away into the darkness….

Sighing, Emily curled up on her side. The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed ten times, but still, she stayed where she was, fascinated by the pups burrowing into their mother, snoozing, stretching. The doorbell intruded on the moment. Reluctantly she got off the couch, crossed to the foyer, checked through the window and opened the door. “Hi, Dad.”

“Well, you don’t look sick.” He looked worried.

“I told Donna I wasn’t when I called in. Just that I’d been up all night.”

“Why?”

“Come see for yourself.” She tugged him through the foyer, over the Italian marble tile, into her great room. “Look.”

He tracked her gaze. “Harrumph.” But she saw his smile. “I can’t believe you kept that bitch after she got pregnant.”

“I love that bitch, Dad. Come look at the babies.”

He hesitated and she wondered what was in her father’s makeup that always made him resist his soft side. She knew he’d grown up poor and had been knocked around by the uncle who’d raised him, but still, a lot of people overcame those odds. Finally, he knelt in front of the box. “Hey, girl.” He didn’t touch the mom or pups, though. He just watched them and shook his head. “You used to love that storybook when you were little. Lady and the Tramp.”

“I remember.” She waited. “Mother used to read it to me.”

His body tensed but he stayed where he was, studying the dogs. “We had a cocker spaniel.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“It was before you were born.” He stood and jammed his hands in the trousers of his suit. “It took us a while to have you so we got a dog in the interim.”

“Did she like dogs?”

Her dad got a faraway look in his eyes. “Yes.” When he answered, his voice was gruff.

He never talked about her mother. All pictures of the woman who’d given birth to her had been destroyed when she’d left. Emily had no idea why she’d abandoned them; her father would only say she didn’t want to be his wife and her mother anymore. A few times, Emily had been tempted to search for her, but she didn’t have the courage. What good would it do to look for a woman who’d made it clear she didn’t want her young daughter, anyway?

“Do you ever think about her?”

His face flushed. “No.”

“I wonder where she is.”

“Last I heard she went to New York.” He crossed to the bank of windows and stood in the spring sunshine, staring out at the front lawn. “Before we married, she worked in a bookstore.” He shook his head. “She loved to read to you.”

“Not enough to stick around, apparently.”

It seemed as if her dad was about to say something, then he shook himself and checked his watch. “I have to go. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

“You don’t have to escape. Stay for lunch.”

“No, I can’t. I have a meeting.” He kissed her cheek and strode to the door, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Emily sighed as she watched her father leave. She suspected he didn’t have a meeting, but that talking about his ex-wife made him uncomfortable. When she thought about her mother, Emily just got sad. She had to fight hard not to dwell on the fact that the woman who’d given her life didn’t love her enough to stick around and raise her. She’d never be that way with her kids, if she ever had any.

Slowly Emily sank onto the Aubusson carpet. “You’re lucky to have those pups, Lady. I envy you.”

Fatigue settled on her like a heavy blanket. How pathetic it was to be jealous of a dog.

BEN SWORE SILENTLY at himself as he rode the bus from the inner city to Corn Hill, where he used to live and where Trey still did. After finishing a day’s work that just about broke his thirty-eight-year-old back, coming off a night of no sleep, he couldn’t resist the urge to make this trip. He didn’t even know if Trey would be home, but after last night, he needed company.

As Ben got off at his stop and covered the few blocks to Trey’s upscale condo, he thought about delivering the puppies. He hadn’t felt that needed in two years.

And then what had happened in the parking lot with Emily: he hadn’t backed away from the hug and couldn’t help brushing his lips across her corn-silk soft hair. God, she’d felt good against him. Curvier than she looked. Just the right complement to the hard planes of his body.

A body that had given him grief for hours because of that simple indulgence. Damn it.

He reached the brick building on Hoffman Street where Trey lived and caught sight of the Porsche in the condo’s parking lot.

You got a Porsche? What’s wrong with you?

Just because you prefer those little Jags….

Their taste in cars had been as dramatically different as their taste in women.

Man, give me a redhead any day, his friend always said.

Not me. I’m a brunette connoisseur.

And he had been. Mallory had worn her black hair short, styled in a careless bob. She’d been rail thin, too, and most of the time she’d looked like she’d just walked out of Vogue. Hell, when had he begun to prefer strawberry-blondes with generous curves and freckles?

He slipped into the building along with another couple and made his way to Trey’s unit. Punching the doorbell, he forced Emily out of his mind.

Trey answered before he could ring again. “I don’t believe it. You haven’t been here in two years.”

Ben jammed his hands into the pockets of his best jeans. “Hello to you, too.”

“Hey, Ben.”

“So, are you going to invite me in or not?”

Trey moved aside.

Ben stepped into the living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows and designer furniture. He remembered his own condo and how he’d worked with a decorator—at Mallory’s urging—to furnish it. “I forgot how nice this place was.”

“Like yours was, buddy.” When Ben didn’t comment, Trey said, “Sit. Can I get you a beer—” He cut himself off. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ben hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in over eleven months. “I’ll take a soda.”

Trey glanced to his own drink on the table in front of a large-screen TV.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“All right.”

Trey got Ben his soda and took a chair facing him. “It’s a crime you’ve never visited me here just because you hit on hard times.”

Ben took a swig of the soda. “It was a little more than hard times.”

“It didn’t have to be. Your life as you knew it didn’t have to be over.”

“Mallory didn’t agree with you.”

“What did you expect from a snob like her?”

“She had her good points.” And she had. Loyalty just wasn’t one of them. Of course, he hadn’t given her much choice when he’d drunk himself into the gutter and stayed there for months.

Trey sipped his scotch. “So what brings you here?”

“I delivered pups last night. Five of them.” He shook his head. “It reminded me of Harriet. I got thinking about my old life, I guess.”

“No kidding? Where was this?”

“At Cassidy Place.”

“You still work there?”

“Not exactly. Long story.” He glanced around the apartment. “So, how’s everything going?”

“Great.” Trey’s expression intensified. “Since you seem more open tonight, I’m going to ask again if I can help get you out of this funk and back to your real world.”

“My real world has no appeal to me anymore.” Except for the fact that, if he wasn’t a bum, he might be able to go after Emily.

“Come on, Ben. I can help you get a job. A good job. You can start over in the corporate world.”

He felt himself weakening. “Nobody’s going to hire me after my two-year disappearance.”

“You don’t know that.”

Ben didn’t say anything.

Trey studied him. “It’s a woman, isn’t it?”

He glared at his friend. “What are you talking about?”

“Why you’re here.”

“I came here to see you.” He scanned the living room. “Like I said, I miss sitting around and shooting the breeze with you.”

“I think you miss your old life. And I think maybe some female’s got you thinking that way.”

Ben frowned at the validity of what Trey said.

“I recognize the signs, buddy. I’ve known you for a long time.”

“There’s no woman, Trey.” He picked threads on a pillow. “But I have been thinking about what you said about investigating Mackenzie.” Ben wondered if, down deep, that’s why he’d come here tonight.

“I haven’t done anything more on it, like you said. But I could put out some additional feelers, if you’re interested?”

“I guess I am. What harm could there be for you to at least look into it?”

“None that I can see.”

He looked at this friend. “And it might help out the employees.”

“Just the employees?”

He shook his head. “I’d rather live like I do, than go back to where I went the year after Mackenzie screwed me.”

“Is playing it safe worth the price?”

It had been. Until Emily. But he wouldn’t tell Trey that, at least not yet. “Yeah, it is.”

Trey just waited.

Finally, Ben said, “So, okay, do it. Poke around some. Don’t go all out or anything. But see if you can get some dirt on Mackenzie.”