Skin Heat Page 3

  He mumbled something apologetic and ate the last of his pie—Granny Smith apple, and one of the pleasures he’d forgotten during his captivity. Luckily he remembered to use a fork. His cheeks burned with remembered embarrassment. With any grace, he would avoid humiliating himself like that in front of folks.

  Once she wound down and joined him at the kitchen table, he said, “Need your help with these,” and scooted the stack of forms toward her.

  With reading glasses perched on her nose, she looked a lot like his mamaw, too, but there were no dark memories attached to his grandmother. She’d passed on before everything turned at the farm.

  Sid had always been his favorite auntie; the others didn’t have much time for him. They were a big family, lots of cousins and such, but Zeke had never felt connected to any of them. As a kid, he’d spent his time in the woods, looking for frogs and trying to save squirrels that his kin wanted to shoot.

  “Something wrong with your writin’ hand?”

  Now he’d have to lie to her. Trying not to squirm, he answered, “Need glasses but I gotta work ’fore I can pay the eye doctor.”

  She nodded like that made good sense. “Well, I’m just glad you’re back. Don’t take off on me like that again, hear?”

  No. I’ll die first.

  It took everything he had to answer her questions like nothing was wrong. Like he couldn’t hear the mice scurrying in the walls. Once she’d gotten all the facts for the first form, it was simple for her to fill in the blanks on all the applications. Most had pictures on them so he could tell which ones needed to go back to what businesses. By the time she finished, Sid was complaining her hand hurt.

  “Sorry for that. But anything I can do . . .” He glanced around her kitchen, looking for work. A few of the cabinets looked loose. Tomorrow he’d come back and fix them.

  “Psht,” she scoffed. “You’re the first one I’ll call, something needs doing. The rest of these Nobles are a shiftless lot, I tell you what.”

  Zeke stood. “Need to get on home.”

  “Guff. You’ll stay until you’re back on your feet. I know dang well you don’t have power at the farm.”

  His aunt had a cozy little bungalow in town, so it would be nice to stay with her. But he was afraid of what he might say or do. Sometimes dreams came, and when he woke, he wasn’t where he’d been when he went to sleep. Best not to expose her to that. Reluctantly he shook his head. “Can’t. You done enough.”

  He read the love and concern in her face as she hugged him. “Then I want you for dinner, once you get one of these jobs. Hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Be careful in that truck. It’ll be the death of you.”

  She might not be wrong about that.

  “You smell like dog,” Lillian Harper said.

  Neva felt her smile slip. “I do not. I showered.”

  “Stay away from James Marchand. He’s allergic.” Her mother lifted her chin in greeting at a newly arrived guest and swept away in a slim Chanel cloud.

  Harper Court teemed with people invited to the country for a long weekend. It could be long, despite the lack of any corresponding holiday, because most of the guests had money and were not engaged in the business of making it. The next holiday would be Thanksgiving, and if her mother had any say in it, the house would be full then, too; anything to drive off the silence.

  I put on my good black dress for this? These days, she had only the one. Her wardrobe consisted of scrubs, jeans, and T-shirts. When she got her own place, she’d given her old clothes to charity. And she still heard about it. Why you live in that terrible firetrap when you have a lovely suite at Harper Court, I will never understand.

  Bennett Reed slipped up to stand at her elbow. Though she didn’t look around, she recognized his cologne. It was an expensive blend of cedar, pine, and musk, mixed with lower notes, and she didn’t like it any better this time around. Like him, it was slick and polished, bought for the brand more than the scent.

  “You look tense.”

  Tension pinched at her temples, but she forced herself to offer a perfunctory smile as she swung around to face him. “Hi, Ben. How’ve you been?”

  “Missing you,” he said softly.

  Dating him had been the biggest single mistake of her life. Her parents had been so distraught after . . . well, she didn’t want to think about Luke. She had wanted to comfort them, and Ben had a reassuring way about him. In those early, awful days, he consoled her parents in a way she never could, always calm and capable, always wearing that gentle half smile. They’d coasted along while they were all numb with grief, and then one day, she’d woken up to realize he quietly ran all their lives.

  Neva didn’t like being managed. He’d laughed at her complaints and that was the last straw. The resulting argument ended in her moving to her own place and out of Harper Court for good. It hadn’t been that long ago, either, so she came to functions like these grudgingly, and for appearance’s sake. Not that she cared.

  Her mother did. And if Lillian got too upset, she made life miserable for Neva’s dad. He’d then visit it on her. So most times it was worth it to put in a few polite hours in the interest of keeping the peace. And honestly, she didn’t want to upset either of them. Despite their disagreements, she loved them.

  “I doubt that, somehow.” Her smile became fixed as a politician stopped to shake her hand. “Nice to see you again, Congressman. Will y’all be doing some hunting while you’re here?”

  “You know it. Your daddy has some of the best woods around.”

  “So I hear.” And it was an old argument, one she wouldn’t go into again.

  They made small talk while servers circulated with trays of canapés and flutes of wine. Music tinkled from the baby grand piano and the lights sparkled through the polished teardrop chandelier overhead. Neva found no charm in any of it. Only Luke had made this place feel like a home, and with him gone, she couldn’t bear being here. Hard to say how her parents stood it. But then, they had each other, and whatever their faults, she had never doubted their devotion. Unlike most of her friends, her parents had a solid marriage, which meant they always offered a unified front in any argument with her. She found that frustrating.

  Eventually, the congressman excused himself and went off to greet his constituents and drink a little more wine. From his rosy flush, Neva guessed he’d already had plenty, but he was a good old boy with a hollow leg. He probably went around half sloshed as a matter of course.

  Unfortunately that left her with Ben. She’d thought him handsome enough once. He had the look of a Ken doll come to life, but Ben was anatomically correct, at least so far as she knew. They’d never gotten that far. He’d said he didn’t want to press her, which sounded like he was doing the right thing and being a gentleman, but at the bottom of it, she hadn’t trusted his control. It made her feel like he was just going through the motions, using her to further his connection with her father.

  “Can we talk?”

  “We are talking.”

  From across the room, Lillian noted Ben at her side and gave an approving smile. She’d never stopped hinting that it wasn’t too late—Neva could still atone for her misdeeds and marry that fine young man. She could sell her vet practice and come back to the fold, no harm done. That was the last thing she wanted. Her life might not be glamorous, but she’d built it on her own sweat, and it wasn’t hollowed out with loss of Luke. Work filled her hours, not grief. That was how it had to be.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He took her elbow. Ostensibly it seemed a courtly gesture, but his fingers gripped like steel bands. “One turn on the terrace.”

  “It’s cold.” She couldn’t object without causing a scene at her mother’s party. Since she’d come to avoid drama, it was best to accede. “I’ll get my coat first and meet you outside.” While she was at it, she’d also get her car keys.

  Ben gazed down at her as if weighing her words. “Promise?”

 
; Stifling a sigh, she nodded and wove through the crowd. A few people stopped her on the way out. Neva made conversation politely for a moment or two, answering questions about people’s pets. Unlike her mother, most of the guests appeared to find her work charming. They probably wouldn’t if they saw the reality of it.

  Ten minutes later, she slipped around the front of the house, heels tapping on the flagstone. She found Ben waiting as promised. No surprises there. He needed her family connections to further his own career and would take her to get them, however little he wanted her.

  “Here I am.” She stopped a few yards away from him and gazed up at the stars. It was a chill, clear night.

  “I want you to know I mean it when I say I miss you,” he began. “I know you don’t believe that, and I know I can be overbearing. I took control because it’s the way I know how to help. I’m not very good at knowing what to say, so I do instead.”

  That was not true, Neva thought. He always knew exactly what to say, which was why he wanted her father’s help to get into politics. It was also why he wanted to marry old money, if only she’d stop cutting up sick animals and get her hair done and buy some pretty shoes. And it was why they’d never fit together in a million years.

  “I’m glad you make life easier for my parents,” she answered. “But I prefer to captain my own ship.”

  He offered a wry smile. “You made that very clear.”

  Her cheeks heated. During their last fight, she’d screamed something to that effect at him, but with less grace and more profanity. But Ben never lost his temper. That wasn’t natural, or at least, it didn’t work for her. She didn’t want everything to be explained and rationalized away. Sometimes you just knew what you knew in your gut and there was no reason why. That was why she couldn’t accept Luke was dead, though he’d been missing for almost two months.

  I’d know. Though people said twins could sometimes sense each other’s thoughts and feelings, they’d never had that. But they had been close. Surely she would feel his loss . . . or maybe she just wanted to believe that because it was easier than the alternative. From his expression, Ben knew what she was thinking, but he had the sense this time not to lecture her about the stages of grief and how she was stuck in denial. Before, she’d almost punched him.

  The heels hurt her feet. Neva shifted and rested an arm on the balustrade. Ornate carvings etched the stone, creating a frame for the terrace. She gazed out over the dead garden. In summer, there would be roses, camellias, wisteria, daisies, asters, foxglove, and bleeding hearts. Her mother took special pride in the grounds, kept the gardeners tending the plants until all hours. When Neva was a kid, Lillian had worked out there herself, at least until Grandmother Harper told her it was unseemly.

  “Let’s cut to the chase, Ben. I’m never coming to my senses. I like my life the way it is, and I don’t ever want to be a politician’s wife.”

  “We could go all the way to the state capital,” he said softly. “We’d make a good team if you could just be a little less hands-on with your causes. Maybe you could take up fund-raising instead?”

  She laughed, tickled at his persistence. If he channeled that into his work, he would certainly go far. “Ben, I don’t want to be a ‘good team’ with the man I marry. It calls to mind towel slaps on the ass and sweaty shorts.”

  “I didn’t mean like that,” he said, obviously stung.

  “We’re done. Tell my mama I had a headache and I went on home, will you?”

  Neva felt him watching as she walked away. Ben was always watching. The problem was, she had no idea what he was thinking; it was like staring down into a well and seeing your own face gazing back.

  CHAPTER 3

  The next day, Zeke dropped off the applications. He stopped first at Felton’s Pharmacy. He recognized the manager as someone he’d gone to school with, and it rankled to ask the man for a job because he’d never liked Skip Felton. The guy acted like he thought he was something special because his old man owned the drugstore.

  Skip had put on forty pounds and was losing his hair. But when Zeke stepped up to the prescription counter, the jackass puffed his chest like he thought the red vest made him look manly. “Something I can do for you?”

  “Just turning in an application.”

  “I know you, don’t I?” Felton pretended to think, but he knew it for a lie from the sour-smug smell. “Zeke Noble. Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

  He made himself smile when he really wanted to punch him in the face. Might prove troublesome if he couldn’t stand a man in a position of authority over him, especially since Felton was the type to give him shit for no reason at all. Still, he needed a job.

  “Been traveling.”

  “Well, I’ll put this with the other apps and I’ll give you a buzz when we start interviews.” Another lie. He had no intention of calling, let alone hiring him.

  For all the good it was doing, Aunt Sid had let him put her phone number down for interview calls, since it would take a paycheck to get his phone turned back on. And he might not bother. Who would he call? Zeke spun grimly and stalked toward the door.

  “That you, boy?” The voice came booming from the shampoo aisle.

  This day just gets better and better. He turned to greet his uncle, who had his cousins in tow. “Uncle Lew. Wil. Jeff.”

  “I saw Sid today. She said you come out to the house for supper. When you planning on seeing us?”

  “Not sure. Need to find work and get the farm fixed up first.”

  “I know Carleen would love to make a big mess of fried chicken and hear about your adventures.”

  “My—”

  “Aunt Sid said you was seeing the world,” his cousin put in.

  “And I was glad to hear it,” Lew went on. “Thought you done ended up like your ma.”

  And that was why he didn’t like his uncle. The man had all the tact of a bull elephant, and no awareness of it, so it wasn’t like yelling at him would do any good. Lew would just claim he was doing the person a favor with his straight talk. Zeke had been down that road before—and when he was more capable of debate.

  “Can see I didn’t.”

  Lew laughed, like that was a joke. “Me and the boys’d love to take you out with us. We’re gonna shoot some squirrel this weekend.”

  “Need to get settled.”

  “I’ll let you get on then. We got shopping to do anyhow. I’m just glad your aunt ain’t making me buy her woman junk anymore. Change of life and all.”

  He could’ve survived without hearing that. Funny how little some things changed when everything felt different in his own head. Zeke lifted a hand in passing and pushed past his cousins. Jeff and Wil had never liked him. From their dark expressions, that didn’t look to be changing anytime soon.

  None of his other stops gave him hope. They brushed him off at the grocery store and the rest of the jobs needed him to do some reading. By the time he got to his last application in the stack, he felt pretty low. He’d saved the vet clinic for last because he prickled at the idea of seeing Neva again. It wasn’t entirely a bad feeling, some gladness mixed in with the boyish nerves.

  The strip mall was pretty new; he remembered when it had been built. Cement first, and then the brick facing. A tall, backlit sign at the edge of the lot read Five Oaks Shopping Plaza. That sounded a lot fancier than it was. When he was here before, he’d checked at Tammy’s Nail Hut, Shoe Connection, and GameZone, but they had no jobs for him. Neva’s clinic occupied the end position on the far right. On the far left sat a sub shop called Armando’s. Other than the Walmart near the highway, and the cluster of stores downtown, this was it for shopping in Harper Creek. Not that he’d ever spent money like some.

  He parked the truck far enough away that it wouldn’t be visible from the front and for good measure stashed it on the far side of an SUV. Then it took him a minute longer to master his nerves. As he walked up, he saw that the clinic sign had both paws and claws swiping at letters he couldn’t
read. Someone had taped merry-looking turkeys along the front of the window, and the door had a horn of plenty overflowing with paper fruit. A bell jingled as he went inside.

  This time, a petite red-haired girl sat at the front desk. She glanced up with a smile. Like Neva, she wore blue scrub pants, but puppies and kittens covered her shirt. “Can I help you?”

  “Here.” He handed her the form.

  Her expression brightened. “Oh, you’re here about the job. If you want to wait ten minutes or so, Neva can probably squeeze in an interview.”

  Shit. If he had to wow her with smooth talk, he’d never get hired. But Zeke nodded and sat down. To make it look good, he picked up a magazine. The words still refused to make sense but he could admire the pictures. Anger simmered inside him. He’d never be . . . right again.

  It took longer than the redhead said, but eventually Neva escorted a kitten-carrying girl to the front door. They were both smiling, so it must be good news. Today she didn’t smell of blood and death, just the warm musk of healthy animals and the honey-almond scent he’d noticed before. She wore her hair in a braid today, different than the tail, all twisted up. It made his fingers itch to unwind the strands.

  “I have a fifteen-minute break between appointments,” she said in greeting. “Come on back and we’ll talk a bit.”

  Wordlessly, he followed her. He studied the swell of her butt even through baggy scrubs. She carried her extra weight in her hips and thighs, and he liked it fine. Her waist was small by comparison, and she had fragile-looking shoulders. She couldn’t be weak, though, if she treated big animals. He’d heard she made farm visits since she was the only vet in the county. She ran what he’d heard the assistant call a mixed practice on the phone.