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Authors: Kathleen Lash

BOOK: Whisper
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“Problem with that?”

Mark shook his head and Keith climbed the stairs. Maybe he rode them too hard when he 15

Kathleen Lash

showed up. He’d cram it all into his few days home and then fly out. Maybe if they worked together with more sleep under their belts, Corey would look at him differently. Three years of rolling into town, fixing what broke not only on their house but on the rentals, grated on his nerves, too. Becoming a workaholic hadn’t been a conscious decision. It’d been a necessity.

After closing his bedroom door, he stripped off his clothes in the darkened room. He flicked on the bathroom light before turning on the shower. God, it felt good to be home. The place wasn’t organized or particularly clean, but it wasn’t the type of mess some people lived in. Hell, with Mark and his friends, and Corey and his friends, the place could really be a wreck.

After finishing the long, hot shower, he toweled his hair and turned down the covers on the bed.

Before crawling in, he stood by the window looking at the semi-lit street.

As his mind wandered, he gazed at the house where Heather lived. He hoped her sister took his warning seriously. She could do whatever she wanted, but because they lived in one of
his
houses, she’d damned well take care of Heather’s basic needs.

He wouldn’t tolerate anything less.

Fatigue bled into him and he walked to his bed.

The squishy and broken-down mattress felt dependable, not like a hotel bed where you never knew what you’d be getting. He only slept well in his own bed, in their home, surrounded by the kids. If something bad happened, he could take care of it immediately and not worry about getting a few thousand miles in a hurry.

Trouble happened infrequently, but it did happen. Mark ruptured his appendix and needed surgery. Billy and a high fever required a few days 16

Whisper

in the hospital. Those things made up the nightmares in his life.

Traveling, working and busting his ass for phenomenal wages were a joke.

17

Kathleen Lash

Chapter Three

“You sure you want to take this over?” Whisper Neuman asked Heather. Even with all the windows and doors open, nothing but humid air rolled into the overheated house. She’d been cooking all morning.

“They’ve been working straight through and it’s way past time to eat. Keith bought the food and you cooked it. I’d be happy to walk it over.” Heather would probably be more than happy to meet new people. What Whisper didn’t feel comfortable with was sending her across the street with a meal for a pack of males.

“If they even look at you cross-eyed, you high tail it back here. You hear me, Heather? You really don’t know a thing about that man.”

“I do. He was decent last night, didn’t get funny with me, and was a really nice guy.”

“Yeah,” Whisper replied, “that’s how most of them start out.”

“He thinks I’m a child.”

I hope so.
“You mind me. If any one of them…”

“I know. I’ll high tail it outta there.” She smiled, exaggerating Whisper’s slight drawl.

“You are one sassy little girl sometimes. And my accent is
not
that obvious.” Heather embraced her quickly and grabbed the oversized basket. “I love you so much.”

“Because you’re getting your way.”

“Even if you said I couldn’t go and had to stay in my room the whole day, I’d be mad at you, but I’d 18

Whisper

still love you.”

Whisper brushed stray hairs away from Heather’s face. “I love you too, sweetheart. You be careful and mind your manners.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

From the window, Whisper watched Heather walk across the street and down a few houses. As she approached, every male stopped working. The little blond-haired boy ran to her. What a sweet looking child. Too bad most harmless little boys turned into men.

The temperatures soared beyond ninety that day with nearly one hundred percent humidity. Not one of them wore a shirt. She felt like she’d sent Heather unarmed into a pack of wolves. Actually, Heather would be more like bait with the food she carried. They’d probably be starved. It’d serve them well to treat her gently by word and deed. If anything happened, Whisper would do something drastic.

Her heart pounded when they circled Heather.

Heather was a normal girl and probably didn’t mind the attention. Too, most of them looked pretty harmless, despite all the muscular builds. Keith appeared to be the biggest threat. Well over six feet tall, he was one solid man. He had to go more than two hundred pounds with most of it being muscle.

Heather said something about him working construction. His build clearly spoke of hard physical labor or an abundance of time in a gym.

Keith accepted the basket and the wolves stalked closer. Some things never changed. A group of men who’d worked hard would certainly be hungry. She hoped the offering took the edge off Keith’s temper.
Take care of Heather!

She probably wasn’t an ideal guardian for Heather, but there weren’t other options. Whisper swallowed, to ease the tension in her throat as 19

Kathleen Lash

Heather took another step closer to the huge man.

His weight casually shifted from one leg to the other while easily holding the twenty-pound basket of food. Arrogance and confidence oozed from him. Of course it would. What would intimidate a man his size?
Nothing
. Every man who grew to those proportions should spend time in a five foot seven, one hundred and thirty pound body. She’d bet after only a week, they’d remember how bad it hurt to be slapped or shoved by someone bigger and stronger.

In broad daylight, Heather stood within plain view of all the neighbors so Whisper left the window.

Heather didn’t have the same phobias Whisper did.

She could laugh and enjoy being in the presence of men. Whisper could act similarly, but not with the men so close. She could act confident around a man if he stayed at least ten feet away.

She walked to the kitchen, put her hair in a ponytail to get if off her neck, and began washing dishes. The apple pies sat on the windowsill to cool.

Two whole chickens had been cut, breaded and fried.

She’d also fried five pounds of potato wedges to go with the coleslaw and homemade biscuits. The amount of food wouldn’t satisfy men that large, but it’d take the edge off. After the pies, they’d probably be full. She made due with what’d been provided.

Heather’s stealing made several things very real in her mind. They walked a thin line and an accident almost toppled them. She’d be more careful in the future. She couldn’t afford a mistake.

The screen door opened and she expected to hear Heather’s excited report of what all happened. What she heard instead was a familiar, deep voice.

“Heather said to walk in.”

She didn’t turn to face him, left her hands in the soapy water, and rested her elbows on the edge of the sink. “It’s fine. You need something?”

“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” he 20

Whisper

replied. That thick, rumbling voice sounded a little different without accusation lacing his words.

“No problem. You bought the food.”

“Look, about last night—”

She interrupted and blurted out, “I
do
take care of her.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded controlled and sincere.

She didn’t need a visual confirmation badly enough to turn an inch in his direction. She started scrubbing a pan. Maybe he’d leave. When he didn’t, words formed. “Don’t be. Heather said you were good to her. Isn’t enough of that in the world these day’s.

Like she told you though, I’ll repay you. I’ll have cash next week.”

“When you get money, buy what you need around here first.” He sounded like he’d moved closer.

She heard him fine where he’d been, and knew he could hear her. There wasn’t a good enough reason for him to come into the kitchen. “We’ll manage. Thank you.” Her voice grew softer. Damn, even her hands started shaking in the water. She needed to make her point but her throat closed a little more. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’d like to get the kitchen in order.”

Keith seldom tolerated being dismissed. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to make amends for the night before and show she’d be able to care for Heather.

Keeping his tone reasonable, he asked, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She seemed to understand he wanted a face-to-face conversation. Soapy hands came out of the dishwater. A full minute crept by as she slowly dried them. A hand rose to the back of her head to swipe the band holding her ponytail. Long, strawberry blonde hair fell almost to her waist. Her fingers ran through strands by her face before she hesitantly turned.

21

Kathleen Lash

Reasonable length shorts and a loose fitting tee shirt greeted him as she hung her head and looked at his boots. Her feet were bare and her long legs were covered in bruises. She wouldn’t look up. When he took a step, she backed against the stove and crossed her arms. The defensive move made him freeze. The entire situation changed. He’d been so used to defending kids; he’d forgotten sometimes parents or guardians weren’t always a problem.

They might even need a little safety themselves.

He leaned casually against the counter and relaxed. She’d probably sense any tension from him.

“You okay?”

He waited as she stole a glance from behind long bangs. She nodded then sighed. “I’m a mess right now. Accident. That’s why I haven’t been at work.”

“Heather mentioned something about it.”

“We have enough to eat, but Heather gets crazy ideas.” She laughed quietly before her shoulders trembled slightly. She rubbed her palms up and down her arms as if chilled in the sweltering kitchen. “She thought I needed protein to heal some bruises. We were low on meat, but had plenty of other stuff. We weren’t about to starve.” She swiped the back of a hand across her forehead. Every male instinct kicked into high gear the second he glimpsed her face. The damage wasn’t from a simple accident. “Just you and Heather live here?”

“Why?” Hesitation and mistrust surrounded the single word.

“Because I’d take care of the man who did that to you if he’s still around.” He’d meant the statement as an offer of protection.

Every taught line of her rigid stance relayed she hadn’t taken it that way. “No. Just me and Heather.”

“No boyfriend—husband?” When she shook her head, he asked, “What happened?” 22

Whisper

Her hand rose and flipped as she bent her wrist.

It happened twice before she actually made words softly come out with the gesture. “After work. Didn’t see him. He jumped me.”

“You were robbed?” It wouldn’t surprise him with the increase in violent crimes. Heather said something about her working nights.

She shook her head and his chest tightened. She seemed embarrassed. “Johnny took care of it.

Nothing happened.”

By the look of her, a hell of a lot happened.

“Heather doesn’t know. Not exactly. I told her it was a car accident.”

She finally looked up and his right hand fisted before he made it open. He hoped
Johnny
took the problem seriously. Both of her eyes were swollen with greenish bruises circling them.
Damn it!
“You sure you’re all right?”

“Yep.” She looked down, purposely hiding her face. “I’m going back to work next week.”

“Are you up to it?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said quickly. “No problem.” Her voice grew a little in volume as she crossed her arms. “We need to get our routine going again.”

“Is money the problem?”

“No. I’ll get back to work and we’ll make ends meet just fine.”

“Don’t worry about rent.”

She laughed and it sounded polite. “Oh, okay, I’ll let the landlord know the guy across the street said not to worry about it.”

Heather must not have mentioned who owned the house. He smiled when she looked up. “The guy across the street
is
the landlord.”

“You?”

“Yep, you pay me.”

“What about Nomad?”

“He helps, sometimes rents out a house if one of 23

Kathleen Lash

us can’t.”

“But the money orders—”

“Are made out to Manchester, right?”

“Yes.”

He extended his hand. For a minute he didn’t think she’d take it. When she did, he said, “Keith Manchester, the guy across the street.”

“Whisper Neuman. I really am sorry about last night. Heather’s never done anything so rash.”

“We got off on the wrong foot. I have this uncanny knack for jumping to conclusions.” Her hand was tiny and delicate with long fingers. He imagined under the discoloration on her face, at the very least, she’d be pretty. She appeared somewhat backward and shy which added to the impression of her being very fragile. She didn’t have an out-and-out drawl, but part of the South still lingered in certain enunciations.

Heather walked in and when she saw their joined hands, a smile lit her face. “I told them they couldn’t eat until you got back, Keith. I don’t think they’ll behave long. Whisper makes the best fried chicken.”

Whisper drew her hand away and his felt empty.

“I better get back, then. Thanks again for cooking.

We spent the day wondering where all the good smells were coming from. Billy threatened to go door to door to find the right house and invite himself to dinner.”

She turned toward the sink and pulled a pie off the windowsill. “You could take these with you.

They’re still warm. We wouldn’t want
Billy
to miss dessert.”

He accepted first one, and then the other fragrant apple pies. His eyebrows raised as his mouth watered. “They’ll jump me before I get in the house.”

Heather laughed and Whisper smiled. “I hope 24

Whisper

Billy likes them.”

The pies smelled like butter, cinnamon, apples and summer. They could taste like putty, and he’d still be impressed she went to the trouble. With the overheated house, she should be resting and taking care of herself, not cooking and baking. He didn’t mouth off too often, and it figured he’d spout off to a woman who needed a hand, not an attitude. “Would you come over and join us?”

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