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Callie barely heard the words before she felt Landry’s hands clamp on her waist. Instinctively, she lifted her hand and ducked her head. It was only that—and possibly the way he ripped her off the ladder—that saved her from taking a direct blow. As it was, something hard and rough glanced against her and crashed into the ground.
“Ow!” she yelped.
“Damn.” He yanked her another good three feet away. “Are you all right?”
“Ow!” she repeated, shaking her stinging hand. “What was that?”
With the way he held her, she was plastered against his body. He felt warm and solid. Her feet had yet to touch the ground, and the contact only magnified her confusion.
“The shutter above you fell.” He kicked the offending piece of wood away from where it had bounced close to them. Swiftly, he put her down and turned her around to face him. “Are you all right? Where did it get you?”
She was still trying to make sense of things when he began looking her over.
“Any bumps? Cuts? How’s your vision?”
The sensation of his fingers sliding over her hair only scrambled her head even more. Besides, it didn’t hurt—or she didn’t think it did. It was hard to tell with the way her finger was burning. The fires of hell had set up residence in her pinky. She tried to nudge him away so she could look, but moving him was like trying to move the Green Monster at Fenway. It just wasn’t going to happen.
“My head’s fine. It’s my hand.” She hissed at the pain. It felt like a hot needle was burrowing into her skin. Wiggling out of his grip, she held her hand up in the sunlight to try to see. There it was, right where her pinky met her palm.
He caught her wrist. “Let me see.”
The heat of his touch disturbed her almost more than the splinter. Warmth rushed into her chest. Hastily, she pulled her hand away. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.”
Her finger stung so badly that Callie wanted to jump up and down like a three-year-old. If he hadn’t been there, she probably would have. Breathing through clenched teeth, she fought against the sting and tried to pull out the tiny piece of wood using her fingernails. It didn’t help. If anything, the sliver only worked itself in deeper.
“You’re never going to get it that way.” Ignoring her protests, he took her hand again. He spread her fingers flat and grimaced when he saw where the sliver had lodged itself. “Damn, that’s got to hurt.”
“You don’t say.” The thing was right in the crease, almost as if it knew that was where it could cause the most pain.
“Come over here,” he said. “I’ve got a first-aid kit in the truck.”
Since he hadn’t let go of her hand and didn’t seem to intend to, she had no other option.
“Hold on,” he said as he opened the door and looked under the seat.
Callie pinched her finger, praying for numbness. It didn’t work. All it did was make her finger go white to match the pain.
She looked at Landry miserably. His being there wasn’t helping. The problem was that she didn’t have a clue where her medical supplies were in all those boxes piled up in her living room. With the way her finger was throbbing, she had to accept help.
Even if it was from him.
“These should do the trick,” he said, holding up a pair of tweezers.
He moved in closer, and awareness caught her by surprise. With the truck at her back and his wide shoulders blocking most of the sunlight, she suddenly felt trapped. Her breaths went short, yet her irritation peaked. It was like being hovered over by the Terminator. He had those reflective sunglasses firmly in place on the bridge of his nose. She wondered if he slept in the things.
“Ouch!” Her attention returned to the sliver when he started poking around her tender flesh.
“Sorry.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Hold still,” he said.
She pressed her lips together. That was easier said than done. Her hand hurt, and funny things were happening inside her chest. He was standing too close. She shifted again, but this time her leg brushed against his.
The tweezers went motionless in his hand. His head was still bent, but his attention had wandered. Callie stood immobile. The tank top she was wearing suddenly seemed skimpy. And tight. He was so close, she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. The definition of his muscles underneath that uniform hadn’t been so apparent from further away.
Although, she had nicknamed him Hardass for more than one reason...
The thought shook her out of her trance. Idiot. This was Landry she was dealing with. So the tweezers in her house would be a little hard to find... She’d just have to amputate. “Never mind, I’ll do it.”
He caught her hand firmly when she tried to pull it away. “This time,” he promised.
Those sunglasses of his were driving her nuts. “Maybe it would help if you took these off.”
The moment she plucked the glasses off his face, Callie knew she’d made a mistake. His blue eyes burned. Like fire. She quickly looked away.
For once, she found herself tongue-tied. She’d thought he’d been hiding behind those glasses. Now, she realized that they’d been her best defense, too.
“Miz Thompson,” he said in a measured voice, “do you want this sliver out or not?”
She nodded tightly. With one hand, she carefully folded his sunglasses together and tucked them into his shirt pocket. Her hand was surprisingly unsteady. “I can’t see what you’re thinking when you’re wearing these.”
“Do you really want to know what I’m thinking?”
She swallowed hard, and her gaze focused somewhere near the ragged bushes that lined the front of the house.
“That’s what I thought,” he said.
He leaned in, and his energy radiated toward her in waves. It was seductive. She felt herself start to sway toward him, and she locked her spine to stop.
Fortunately, he was focused on her finger. With painstaking care, he caught the tiny piece of wood with the tweezers and pulled it out. She flexed her hand and took a deep breath. When his gaze slid to the scooped neckline of her top, she realized that maybe his concentration wasn’t so focused after all.
She maneuvered out from between him and the truck. “Thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “Did I get it all?”
She hadn’t stopped to check. Steeling herself, she wiggled her finger. She was surprised when it didn’t hurt as badly. “I think so.” She blew out a breath. “Thanks.”
He brushed blue flecks of paint from her hair, but froze when she winced.
“Damn it. I knew it. It did get you.”
She reached upward to poke at the sore spot. “I didn’t feel it before.”
He gave her a disbelieving look. “You screech like a banshee over a splinter, but don’t notice a blow to the head?”
“I have a hard head.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
He ran his thumb over the area she’d been touching. Callie didn’t know what surprised her more—the bump she already felt forming or the way her stomach dropped at his touch. Holding her still, he parted her hair and looked at the injury more closely. “It doesn’t look like it managed to break the skin.”
Probably because he’d yanked her out of the way too fast for that.
“Ice,” he said gruffly.
When he headed for the house, she followed without a peep. Her footsteps slowed, though, when they neared the ladder. Lifting her hand to shield her eyes, she looked upward. “I don’t understand. How could that have happened?”
“It was a fluke. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Was she? Her stomach clenched when she saw exactly which shutter had fallen. The middle window had a blue shutter on the left side, but not the right. “Did we hit it with the ladder or something?”
“Not that I saw.” He glanced at the second floor, and his jaw hardened. “Come on. Let’s get ice on that lump before it gets any worse.”
“But that’s the one that kept me up all night, blowing in the wind.”
“There you go. It must have just been loose.”
She dug in her heels. “No. I’ve been looking at that shutter all day, trying to figure out how to get it down without a ladder to get up there.” She leveled an anxious look on him. “It was up there tight.”
Carter felt his shoulder squeeze. He didn’t like where this was leading. “It was an accident. That’s all.”
She looked up again, unconsciously rubbing her head.
“An accident.” Catching her by the chin, he looked deep into her eyes. “And you’re lucky you don’t have a concussion.” He cocked his head. “Can we go inside now?”
She stared at him for a moment, but then seemed relieved that he was so certain. “Okay. It was just a really long night...”
So help him, he was going to have Alice and Mamie’s hides.
Turning so she couldn’t see the anger in his face, Carter headed to the back of her house. He opened the door for her so she could step into the kitchen. The room smelled lemony fresh. He directed her to a kitchen chair that matched the one outside. “Here. Sit.”
He opened the freezer door and searched for an ice tray. The top one was empty. The bottom one had some dried-out chips left. Using a kitchen towel he found on the countertop, he made an ice pack. “Fifteen minutes on, fifteen minutes off,” he said as he held it out to her.
She was looking at him curiously. “You act like you know your way around my kitchen.”
He shrugged as he opened the refrigerator. “Most people in Shadow Valley do.”
“What does that mean?”
She had nothing to drink except champagne. Shaking his head, he turned to the cabinets. He found a couple of glasses and filled them with tap water. “It means that this place used to be a favorite haunt for neighborhood kids. When the house was deserted, teenagers would sometimes break in and have a look around.”
Her eyes were twinkling when he handed her the water along with some aspirin he’d grabbed from the first-aid kit. The expression made his gut tighten. He hadn’t seen that look on her face since he’d pulled her over on that traffic stop. “What?” he demanded.
“Why, Chief Landry. Are you saying that you broke into this house as a teenager?”
“No, I’m saying I was the officer who kicked the kids out.”
Her smile fell. “Of course. What was I thinking?”
She tilted her head back to down the pills, and he caught himself staring at her throat. Her skin was just as sleek as it looked. Warm and silky.
Damn. He pivoted quickly back to the counter. Why did trouble always have to be so tempting? Turning the faucet on high, he refilled the ice trays. Water sloshed over the edges as he put them back in the freezer.
She was staring at him again when he turned around.
“That,” he said, pointing at the ice bag, “is supposed to go on your head.”
“Grouch.” She scowled, but lifted the cold compress. “Thank you for saving me. That shutter could have knocked me out.”
Or worse.
“You’re welcome,” he said. What were the odds that the thing would fall at just that moment, after years of hanging up there? He sat down in the chair across from her and took a deep drink of water. That pretty pink color dotted her cheeks again, and she glanced away. Silence filled the room.
She looked out the window. “I was hoping to get all the shutters down before lunch,” she said in an obvious attempt to fill the quiet. “It would make it a lot easier if they would all just fall off.”
“Leave them for the day. I can drop by after work and get a start on the rest for you.”
“David can probably help me.”
One short word, and their tentative truce was suddenly in jeopardy. They both felt it, and they both stiffened.
“Don’t get too close to that kid,” Carter said softly. He needed her to hear him on this. “David Hughes is not someone you want to get messed up with.”
“Oh, stop it,” she said. “He seems like a good kid. You just don’t like his muscle car.”
Carter tried to keep his patience. “You’ve just seen the one side of him. Believe me, I usually see the worst.”
“Interesting. That’s what he said, too.” Slowly, she set the ice pack down on the table. “Chief Landry, if you’re always looking for the worst in people, that’s what you’re always going to find.”
And there it was, the flare of irritation she always seemed to light inside him. Carter didn’t know what ticked him off more, her stubborn refusal to listen to him or her insistence on calling him “chief.” “Don’t try to use your advice columnist mumbo jumbo on me. The kid’s got a rap sheet as long as my arm.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Filled with infractions like jaywalking and illegal parking, no doubt.”
She wasn’t going to let that parking ticket go, was she?
“Try vandalism, B&E, and stalking, to name but a few.”
“Stalking?”
He’d thrown her with that one? Good. “Haley Smothers, the little blond waitress down at Mamie’s.”
“Ooh,” Callie said with a scoff. She waved her hand at him airily. “She’s cute as a bug. He’s probably got a crush on her.”
Carter couldn’t believe the casual brush-off. Was she really that blithe or was she trying to tick him off? He took these kinds of things seriously. “You need to be careful around him.”
“And I will, but I’m not going to prejudge him. He seemed perfectly nice and respectful before you showed up.”
Carter’s shoulder felt like it was ready to dislocate. “I’m the problem here?”
She said nothing, and the kitchen clock ticked off the seconds noisily.
“So is this the way it’s going to be?” he finally asked.
Her gaze dropped, and she poked at the spot on her hand where the sliver had been. “I don’t know,” she said tiredly.
Felt pretty decisive to him.
He set his glass back on the table. He’d come over here to sort things out with her, and they just had. He got up to leave, but stopped at the door. “Do you want to know what sealed it for me? The way you tried to work me with the smile and the fluttering lashes at that traffic stop.”
Her mouth opened, but then snapped closed.
“I know all the little tricks, honey. It will be easier on you if you just learn to follow the rules.”
He was halfway out the door as she came out of her chair, sputtering. They were both caught by surprise, though, when a loud thud sounded from the basement. Whatever retort Callie was going to throw at him froze on her lips. Her gaze flew to the basement door.
He stopped with his hand on the screen door. “Callie?”
She glanced at him, but her concentration was elsewhere. “You’re right. Following the rules is much easier. Then we won’t have to deal with each other like this.”
He watched her closely. “It sounded like the furnace to me. It probably doesn’t know what to do with this weather hopping from warm to cold.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah.”
She drummed her fingers against her leg. “I’ve got somebody coming this afternoon to look at it.”
The furnace clunked again, and she nearly flinched right out of her shoes.
Carter didn’t like it. Reflexively, he took a step back inside. “Do you want me to check it out now?”
She hesitated. “No,” she finally said. “It’s fine. I think we’re done here.”
His eyes narrowed. Her chin lifted, and that stubborn look came over her face again.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think we are.” He slipped his sunglasses back on. “Have a good day, Miz Callie. Try to stay out of trouble.”
He let the screen door bang shut and cursed under his breath as he strode across the disheveled lawn. He’d come over here with good intentions. Yesterday, he’d been far from his best, and he’d assumed it had been the same for her. Talk about giving her the benefit of the doubt. Why had he thought that she would be any different today?
He climbed into his truck and slammed the door. He’d never met a more frustrating woman in his life.
Still... He hadn’t liked the way she’d gone pale at the sound of the furnace knocking.
And she’d looked exhausted.
He shook his head. Hell, they’d gotten to her at the diner last night. They’d told her stories about the house. That explained the lack of sleep and the jumpiness. He glared at the Thunderbird parked in front of him. No doubt the kid had thrown in his two cents, too.
Irritated, Carter twisted the key in the ignition.
This was the last thing he needed to happen. His department was busy enough as it was.
He shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. He was halfway into the street when a flash from the porthole window in the attic nearly blinded him. He stomped on the brakes and looked up at the house. The sun went under a cloud, and the glare disappeared.
Still, an uneasy feeling settled in his gut.
He’d never given a second thought to the rumors that the Shadow Valley old-timers liked to tell. They were just stories made up by bored townspeople with nothing better to do. For some reason, though, he found himself pointing at the house.
“Be nice to her,” he said quietly. “I mean it.”
* * *
THE ROCKER KEPT RHYTHM with its ever-present squeak as she rolled back and forth. The visit by the chief of police had pleased her. Such a strong, handsome young man. He reminded her of someone she’d known before. Known. Loved. And lost...
She pushed the heartache aside before it could overtake her once again. Yes, the police chief was the one she needed, the one she’d awaited. He wouldn’t put up with the stranger who’d disrespected her so. He’d make them go away.
She rubbed her hands along the smooth wooden armrests as a plan formed in her head.
She must find a way to bring him back.