Now and Always (31 page)

She placed her good hand on his. “But he didn't. Tell me more. I knew I wasn't imagining all those incidents that concerned me.”

He answered her remaining questions about noises in the night and the owl (simple and laughable, Warren had bragged). The burned-out security light Warren didn't mention, but the reason why the dogs never barked was easy. On his nocturnal visits, Warren carried pork chop bones in his coat pockets. Goldie was a fool for fresh meat. Every baffling incident was accounted for.

“So you were telling the truth when I caught you sneaking around the backyard that night?”

“I wasn't
sneaking.
I was checking the roof.”

She patted him lovingly.

His gaze softened. “Warren thought he could frighten you into closing the shelter, first by mind games — like the crumpled flowers in your mailbox. But when you didn't take the hint, he decided he'd try a softer approach, to talk you out of it. But the more you held on, the more desperate he became. He wanted the shelter closed and all your attention focused on him. He's one sick dude, Katie.”

“So he wasn't attracted to me.”

He shrugged. “He was a fool.”

“Will he get help?”

Ben nodded. “Considering the New York state warrant on him, my guess is he'll spend a good long time in prison. He will be a very old man before he can cause another woman trouble.” He grinned. “There is a ray of hope in this: the town's now aware of the shelter's financial situation, and I think you're going to see donations pick up again. The people here love you, Katie. They don't want to lose you or the shelter. You should be in good shape within a few months.”

Katie clung to his fingers, realizing what a true find he was and what a fool she had been. Could he forgive her? She'd even suspected him of harassing her. She summoned her courage, forming words of contrition.

“I haven't been very nice to you, Ben. I'm so sorry.”

He winked. “No, you haven't. Where's all that goodness of heart we're talking about?”

She touched her chest, her eyes locked with his. “Here. Right here. Can we continue our friendship? Take time to explore each other, only on different terms now. I'd like a chance to know you, Ben. Know the man, Ben, and not the boy.”

“I'm not a boy any longer, Katie.”

“I know.” Boy, did she know.

Silence closed around them. Finally he lifted his eyes. “Sorry. I don't want to continue down this path. You'll always have a place in my heart, but it's time to concede that what we have doesn't work.”

“Oh, Ben, can't we try? This incident has opened my eyes. God has taught me so much about love and what's important and what's not.”

He got up and bent to kiss her forehead. This red-headed, hazel-eyed angel had won her heart, and now he was leaving for good. “You're one terrific lady, but from now on, I'm going to concentrate on my future.”

Katie blinked back hot tears. Well, what did she expect? Undying love from a man she'd ignored all these years? Ben wanted to put the past behind him and look to the future.

And he couldn't have made it plainer that future did not include her.

Thirty-Eight

Katie woke to a blizzard in progress outside her bedroom window. Closing her eyes, she pulled the sheet over her head. The doctor had released her yesterday with the warning to rest for several days, but this morning she was going to dress and drive into town for a latte, storm or no storm. After the week she'd spent, lattes were a little repayment for the turmoil in her life. Besides, she no longer had to explain expenditures to Warren; he had bigger problems than Katie Addison's lack of financial savvy.

Throwing off covers, Katie got out of bed and headed for the shower. Later, wearing ratty sweats and a ball cap, she found the women in the kitchen gathered around Meg and the baby. Since Chrissy arrived, focus at the shelter had changed from the wants and needs of five women to hovering over this little scrap of humanity. A good baby, she seldom cried, but she seldom needed to. Her every need was met immediately if not sooner.

Katie paused to join in the admiration
and reassure Meg that Chrissy was the most beautiful baby in Little Bush and likely the entire world. Meg beamed at the praise. She was a far cry from the hesitant, fearful young woman who had arrived at Candlelight, her belongings clutched in a paper grocery sack.

Katie reached for a coffee cup. “Guess the weather will delay your departure?”

One positive thing had come out of the past hectic week. Meg's grandmother offered to take Meg and the baby into her home. In fact, she was so eager to help, she'd sent money for the plane fare. However, Meg's noon flight to Omaha appeared unlikely to happen that day. Snow pelted the window, and the wind howled around the eaves. Katie was even more grateful for the new roof. She planned to stop by the bank and repay the bank loan when she went for the latte.

Meg tickled the baby under her chin. “Yeah, I guess you'll have to put up with us a few more days.”

Katie touched a finger to Chrissy's pug nose. “That's really going to be a problem.”

The new mother grinned. “I'll have to leave soon before you guys spoil her rotten.”

Tottie sat a bowl of oatmeal in front of Katie. “Too late for that. This old house will be far too quiet when you're gone.”

“That's for sure.” Ruth leaned over to stroke the baby's silken cheek. She held the baby almost as much as Meg. “She's made Christmas for us this year.”

Katie knew Ruth was thinking of her own daughter. If there was any way to do it, they had to help Ruth get custody of that child. Maybe Ben could suggest something. She squelched the thought. Ben wasn't around anymore.

Janet carried her cup of coffee to the table and sat down. “Keep in touch with us, Meg, please. As soon as I can get resettled, I'll send you my address. I want to be an honorary aunt to this little girl.”

Meg's smile was one-hundred-watt brilliant. “I'd like that. Being here has changed my life. You guys were there when I really needed someone, and I'll never forget that you cared enough to go to the hospital with me. I . . . I love you.”

“We love you.” Tottie moved back to the kitchen sink. “A pox on this weather.”

Katie reached for a day-old paper. “Why, Tottie, I thought you
loved
snow.” Silently snickering, Katie waited for the explosion.

“God's sense of humor.” Tottie rinsed a dish and set in the drainer. “I have to go to the store for milk.”

Katie glanced up. “There's three gallons in the refrigerator.”

“Three gallons spoiled. Did you smell it when you bought it?” Tottie shifted to the refrigerator.

Katie shook her head. “You can't smell milk. It's not like in the old days when you could take the cap off the bottle and take a whiff. Besides, I checked the expiration dates.” Didn't she? One could only hope.

Tottie waved an uncapped jug under her nose. “It's spoiled. Taste it.”

Katie shied away. “Why would I want to taste spoiled milk?”

“How a dairy would have spoiled milk this time of year . . .” Tottie muttered all the way to the sink to dump the evidence.

“Better not pour it out,” Janet said. “The store will replace it.”

Tottie caught the stream and recapped the plastic jug. “I'll head into town so I can get back before the temperatures plummet. It's supposed to drop to zero tonight.”

Lowering the paper, Katie stared at her. Tottie's driving abilities left something to be desired in good weather. She couldn't let the woman loose on snow-packed roads and besides — she was going for a latte. “I'll go.”

“Don't be silly. You're just out of the hospital.”

Other than the bandage on her right fingers and a few sore ribs, she'd never felt better. “I want a latte.”

The housekeeper wagged her head. “You'd brave a blizzard for a cup of five-dollar coffee?”

“I don't
pay
five dollars — just three dollars and thirty-nine cents. And it's worth every cent.”

“A dollar sixty-one back from a five?” Tottie dunked a skillet in sudsy water. “In my book, that's five dollars a shot.”

“To each his own. For me, it's money well spent. Get your list ready, and as soon as I check on Sweet Tea — ”

Janet interrupted. “Tottie, while you're out, you can check on that housecleaning job.”

“What housecleaning job?” Katie asked.

“Don't argue — we can always use the extra money, and besides, it's a widow's house. The job shouldn't take me much more than a couple of hours a week.” Tottie draped the dishcloth across the drying rack.

“The roads are slick,” Katie argued. “Can't you call about the work, Tottie?”

“No, I can't call. I want to see what I'm getting into before I agree to clean once a week. Don't worry, the snowplow came by a few minutes ago. I'll be okay.”

“But I'm going in anyway — ”

Janet interrupted. “Go get your latte. You deserve some time to yourself.”

The two women left the room before Katie could change their mind. If Tottie wanted to go running around the countryside in this weather, she'd go, and there wasn't anything Katie could do about it.

Katie checked on Sweet Tea and the other horses and assured the animals that she'd never felt better. She patted a mare's nose, quietly assessing the barn roof. “Good thing the weather's delayed your departure.” The animals were now scheduled to be moved the first of next week. She sighed. “You're going to be missed as much as Meg,” she assured the animals.

Sweet Tea nickered and accepted the sugar cube she offered. “Oh, you're staying.” She ruffled the mare's nose. “Wild horses couldn't get you away from me.”

When she returned to the house she found Meg alone, rocking Chrissy. “Has Tottie left already?”

“Twenty minutes ago. There's taco soup simmering on the stove, and Tottie mentioned something about apple cobbler for dinner, so I don't think they'll be gone long.” She put the baby over her shoulder and gently patted her back. “Can you hold Chrissy while I take a shower?”

“Sure.” Katie peeled out of her coat, warmed her hands before the fire, and then took the infant.

“I'll hurry.”

Katie buried her nose in the baby's neck, soaking up the newborn infant smell. She suddenly lifted her head. “Meg, do you think you'll be happy living with your grandmother? You know you're more than welcome to stay here and look for work in Little Bush. You can stay as long as you want.”

The young woman grinned. “Oh, Katie, going to Grandma's is the best thing that could happen to me. My Grammy is a churchgoing woman who lives what she believes. She'll be good to me and Chrissy. I didn't think she'd want me after the mistakes I've made, but Grammy told me that she loves me and she needs me. No one has needed me for a long time.”

Katie smiled. Grammys were like that, and Meg would be all right. Candlelight had made a difference in her life, and her grandmother would continue the work. Warren had been wrong about so many things, but primarily about these women.

“That's great, Meg. I'm so happy for you.”

An hour and a half later, Katie hurried to the jeep, wind-driven snow stinging her face. The warmth of the shelter called to
her as she climbed into the cold vehicle and started the engine. Maybe Tottie was right. Coffee wasn't really that important. Katie conceded the housekeeper's point when she backed the jeep down the snowy, steep incline. The windshield wipers could barely keep up with the falling snow.

Snow drifted along fence posts and familiar landmarks. Once she reached the county road, Katie thought conditions would likely improve. Her predictions proved valid. Trucks with blades threw a wide shield of ice packed snow. She spotted the farm truck coming at her and beeped. Tottie flew past waving.

The drive was uneventful except for an occasional slide that she righted easily. She passed Ben's office, and her heart did a familiar spasm. She'd driven past the same office for years and never looked, but today all she could think about was the man sitting behind the desk.

He'd stopped by the hospital a couple of times, once with a detective to interview her about her relationship with Warren and the events leading up to her fall, the second only briefly to drop off a paper for her to sign. She'd had to go over all of the harassment and the frightening incidents. As she reviewed her encounters with the detective, she'd felt even more foolish not to have noticed the clues, like Warren's attitude toward women and the way he avoided the shelter. Having Clara in his house had driven him to distraction, but in Katie's innocence, she had chalked it up to the politician's personality. Not even the most optimistic person could expect Warren and Clara to be compatible.

Ben had looked good on his visits, with his wind-kissed cheeks and tousled reddish hair. Why had it taken all these years for her to recognize what a truly great guy he was? So great that during one of his visits a nurse had invited him to a New Year's Eve party and he'd accepted.

That would be tonight, him and her, toasting sparkling beverages to usher in the new year.

Happy New Year to you, Katie
.
Because of your thickheaded-ness,
you will be sitting at home toasting with milk.

Ah, Katie, you never were good picking the odds.

True, Grandpops. Odds were I should have married a hometown
boy and lived happily, if not boringly, ever after.
Now she was on the downhill side of thirty (on a greased sled) with no prospects in sight. Marrying a hometown boy turned sheriff didn't sound the least boring, but a girl couldn't marry a man who refused to date her. There were some pretty hard-nosed rules to this ever-after stuff.

But Katie had given up on men. She was through trying to second-guess God. She'd just grow old, spout coarse hairs out of her chin, and hot flash her way to eternity. Drinking lattes.