Bone Deep (3 page)

He studied the linoleum again and
didn’t reply.

“
You don’t
have any idea where you’re going
,
”
s
he guessed
.

“No.”

The bacon sizzled louder and its rich aroma filled the room.

Sarah
stared
at the faded linoleum squares
—the ones she’d wanted to replace but could never afford to. She thought about the changes she’d never made to John’s family home during the four years of her marriage.
It wasn’t the farmers’ way to destroy anything that wasn’t completely worn out, but sometimes a person just wanted to break routine and do something new. She drew a deep breath and
made an impulsive decision. “I have some odd jobs that need doing around here. You could do them in exchange for meals and a bed in the loft.”

He
frowned
, scanning her face as though trying to read it. “Why? Why would you help me?”

Memories of the previous night’s dreams and fantasies tumbled through her mind and
she
threw
them into a closet
and firmly shut the door
. “
B
ecause... I don’t know.
Because you need help, I guess
.”

N
ot wanting to really examine the why at all
, she
turned to crack a pair of eggs into the bacon grease.
A quick glance at Tom as she threw the shells away caught him studying her, and a
flush of heat raced through her
body
.
Immediately,
Tom
looked away. Underneath the swirls of blue, she was sure he was blushing.

She
focused her attention on setting the table and serving
breakfast. She slid a plate laden with toast, bacon and eggs in front of
her guest and watched in shock as he
grabbed the spoon, hunched over the plate and scooped one of the eggs into his mouth. He snapped it up like a hungry dog
and
swallowed it down. He jammed bacon and toast into his mouth as if it might be taken away if he didn’t hurry. His jaws bulged. The flames an
d swirls flowed with his muscle
s. In less time than it had taken her to crack open one of the eggs,
he’d finished the meal
.

“Do you want more?
I can make you another couple eggs.”

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked up at her with a doubtful frown. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Of course you can have more. It’ll only take a minute.”

Twenty minutes later, he polished his plate for the last time. He
’
d eaten a half dozen eggs, four pieces of toast and eight strips of bacon plus two full glasses of orange juice.

Sarah poured a cup of coffee for each of them then sat down at the table. She asked Tom a few more questions about himself and the carnival but only got monosyllables or silence in answer. She sipped her coffee and tried to think how to draw him out. Perhaps the best thing to put him at ease would be for her to tell him a little about herself.

“This was actually my husband’s family farm. It’s been in the Cassidy family for three generations, but John and I never got around to making a fourth.” She added the words that still stuck in her throat, “He was killed in the war.”

She waited for the obligatory “I’m sorry,” but he simply watched her with his
strange
eyes.

“Since John’s parents had already passed on, I inherited the farm. I rent
out
the fields to some of the neighbors. My hands are full just taking care of the three acres around the house, the garden and the animals. It’s not really a one-person job, and there are things I’m simply not strong enough to tend to. I
’
d really appreciate having a handyman around for a few days.” She knew she was talking too
loud
and too fast, but his penetrating stare and
utter
foreignness made her extremely nervous. “Look, I don’t know what happened to you, what those people did, but if you want, we can drive into town and go to the police.”

He
started to rise
. “No.” A stench of body odor
made her nose crinkle
. She
’
d
been too alarmed to register it
when he grabbed her arm to keep her from falling from the loft,
and t
he scent of frying bacon had covered
the earthy
odor until now. She
tried to think of a polite
way to offer him a bath.

“All right. No police.” She set down her cup. “I need to get started on my daily chores. I never did get the hay pitched down for the stock’s bedding. If you’d care to do that...”

He
appeared relieved and
nodded
. He
stood and picked
up his empty plate and cup. “Thank you for the food.”

“You’re welcome. You can put those in the sink.” She watched him move about her kitchen with a sense of astonishment that this was actually happening.
This was like
a bizarre dream from which she
’
d soon wake. But when
Tom
turned and looked at her, she knew this was no d
ream. She couldn’t imagine a man like him
if she tried.

Sarah led
her house guest
to the barn and set him to work pitching hay while she
took
the horse and cow to
the
pasture. After that
,
she showed him her vegetable patch and explained which leaves were weeds. She left him
working
the rows with a hoe and went to the house to start laundry. At the door she sto
o
d and watched him for a moment.

Tom seemed totally content in the task--or maybe he was simply used to following orders. He chopped carefully around each plant. The hot sun beat down and after a moment he stopped to remove his shirt and toss it down at the end of a row.
T
he peacock hue of his skin shone
over the
rippling muscles of his back and shoulders.

Sarah
’s
stomach
fluttered. Yet another wave of heat lightning flashed through her body. Her pulse beat between her legs. She hadn’t felt anything like this since John’s last leave, that time they’d crashed together as if trying to fool themselves into believing they wouldn’t have to part again.

The memory of her dead husband quickly doused the surge of arousal. She hurried into the house and set about doing her chores.

Sarah hated laundry day. She supposed she should be grateful John’s
father
had installed indoor plumbing
so
she had both hot and cold running water. The update hadn’t taken place all that many years ago. But even with that convenience, scrubbing the clothes, running them through the press, rinsing
and
running them through a second time, was exhausting. An hour later she emerged from the house with a basket full of sheets and undergarments to hang on the line.

Over i
n the garden Tom was crouched down weeding by hand. She was about to call him to
take
a break and offer him some
refreshment
, when the sound of an engine coming up the dirt road caught her attention.
A
dented, gray pickup truck
pulled into the
driveway, and when she glanced back at the garden, Tom had disappeared.

The truck parked in front of the house. Sarah set down her laundry basket on the porch
and walked toward it, anticipating another interruption to her quiet life.

A man with striking silver-streaked black hair and a full moustache got out of the truck. He was tall and thin, dressed in a black suit, shiny with age. He approached her with a smile that
seemed somehow
more sinister than friendly--maybe because she had a good idea who he was.

“Good day, ma’am.” He offered Sarah his hand. It was damp and clammy, and she had the urge to wipe her hand on her apron after touching it.

“My name is Art Reed
, owner of
Reed’s Entertainments. Maybe you stopped by our show
sometime in the past couple of days
.”
He jerked a thumb
in the direction of
t
he recently departed carnival.

Sarah
folded
her arms and tried to appear casual. “Yes, I did. Just last night.”

“I hope you enjoyed it.
T
he problem is one of our people has gone missing. I’m
canvassing
the area to see if anyone has seen him.”

“Gone missing?”

Reed shook his head, his moustache drooping as his smile disappeared. “Wandered off most likely.
Poor
Tom
’s
soft in the head and needs to be looked after. We were twenty miles down the road before I noticed he was gone. He’s like my own son
. I must
find him and get him home safe.”

Sarah
frowned
. “Oh, that’s terrible. What does he look like?”

He smiled again, revealing uneven yellow teeth. “You couldn’t miss him--the tattooed man, one of our best attractions.”

“Yes, I saw him. I mean, at the carnival last night.” She stretched her acting skills, widening her eyes and
putting her hand over her heart
. “Good heavens, is he dangerous?”

“No, not at all. But he’s never been on his own. His mother was our fortune-teller and when she died I raised the child. This young man has no idea of how to survive alone, so you can see I
must
get him
safely back to
his home.”

“Of course, Mr. Reed, I’ll keep my eyes open.” She shuddered extravagantly. “And my doors locked just in case he’s not as harmless as you think. Have you notified the police?”

“Mrs...?”

“Cassidy.”

“Mrs. Cassidy, in my business we prefer to take care of things on our own. The authorities aren’t always friendly to the traveling entertainment industry. So, if you see
Tom
I’ll be staying at the Fairfield Motel for a night. You can reach me at their phone.” He handed her a small piece of paper with a number scrawled on it.

Sarah
nearly shuddered
as she took it from his bony fingers.

“Tomorrow I must catch up with the carnival over in Hooperstown.” He sighed. “I certainly hope I find
Tom
before I have to leave. I hate to think of the poor imbecile wandering the countryside lost."

“I’ll certainly let you know if I see him
.
”

He climbed back into his vehicle
and she watched him drive away
.
After the
dust on the road settled
,
she walked over to the garden. The leaves of dry corn stalks,
stripped
of their ears this late in the season,
whispered together
. She knew Tom was in there somewhere, or maybe lying between the rows of bush beans.

“He’s gone. You can come out now.”

She couldn’t
help but
smile when he popped up
in the middle of her garden
like some bizarrely painted
animal
. He rose from between the staked bean plants, brushing dirt off his chest and stomach. It mixed with sweat and streaked him in muddy brown that dulled the vibrant colors.

“Why don’t you come inside for a while, out of the hot sun. It’s time for a break anyway.”

He looked at her for a silent moment, and Sarah was suddenly afraid that Reed’s story was true, that this man was mentally
feeble
and should be reunited with his guardian.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

She smiled. “No problem.”

His eyes roamed over her eyes, her hair and rested on her mouth until
her lips tingled
. He didn’t return her smile. She wondered if he was even capable of it.

In the kitchen
,
she offered him a plate of cookies and lemonade
and was again aware of his
ripe odor. “Maybe after you eat you’d like to cool down with a bath?”

He looked up at her, cheeks full of cookie, and nodded.

Sarah sat at the table across from him, sipping her drink. “That man Reed says he’s your guardian and that you’ve never lived outside the carnival.”