A Conard County Homecoming Read online

  “I think the kids would be scared to come to my porch. I’m a stranger in a wheelchair.”

  “With a dog,” she reminded him, then remembered her class. “Oh, God.”

  “What?”

  His expression was curious, no darkness there. Well, what if her question totally changed that? She almost didn’t ask, then realized she’d just about promised her kids she would.

  “You can say no,” she began. “But my class listened to Mikey this morning and they were begging me to ask you to come talk to them and tell them about Nell. Actually, to bring Nell to school.”

  To her amazement, his face didn’t turn to stone. In fact, he didn’t even frown. “So I have Mikey to thank for Nell’s sudden popularity with the fourth grade?”

  Ashley laughed as she pulled the casserole out of the oven. “I guess so. But like I said, you can say no.”

  “Well, I can hardly send Nell alone. We’re joined at the hip.”

  She placed the casserole on the counter. “It needs to set for a few minutes. Are you volunteering to come meet nineteen rambunctious nine-and ten-year-olds?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll think about it. I enjoyed meeting Mikey.” His eyes settled on her. “Kids are different, Ashley.”

  “How so?”

  “So innocent. So blunt. So curious. Even though I was deemed a problem for kids at the apartment house, I never held anything against the kids. Never.”

  “They probably weren’t behind the attempt to evict you,” she said forthrightly. “I know people just a bit. Adults create more serious problems than most kids ever will.”

  She started hunting for a serving spoon and plates. She could have asked him, but she needed a moment to collect herself. He’d shared some very personal stuff with her, and now he was actually thinking about coming to visit her class? The avowed hermit?

  Nah, he wouldn’t do it. He wanted to be left alone, and the stimulation of a classroom full of kids might not be good for him. She hated to think how he might feel if he had an episode at the school. Heck, she’d feel awful herself if something triggered him because of her request.

  Well, she’d kept her promise to her kids. She’d wait a few days and then ask him what he’d decided.

  She put the plates on the table, moved the casserole to the center and began scooping some onto his plate. “Say when. Turkey, green beans, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing.”

  “Sounds fabulous and I’m starved.”

  So she gave him several large scoops before giving herself a much smaller portion. For a beverage, she gave them each a glass of ice water. “Don’t burn your mouth.”

  He laughed a little. “Do you know how long I went wishing I had something hot enough to eat that it could burn my mouth?”

  Then he surprised her by reaching for her hand. “I think I need to be thankful. Can you say grace, please?”

  Bowing her head, trying to ignore a totally inappropriate response to his touch, she complied with a prayer she had learned in childhood. When she looked up, his eyes were still closed.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I keep forgetting I have blessings to count.”

  Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but he was reaching deep inside her, touching her in ways she realized she had never been touched before. He was winning a place in her heart. Well, her friends and her students had a place there—why shouldn’t Zane?

  Turning her attention to her meal, she assured herself it would be all right. Just friends. He’d let her know he wanted her, but both times he’d backed away, so he could be trusted not to try to take it further.

  In the meantime, better to think of other things. “So, Halloween?”

  “I need to get some candy.”

  She smiled, glad he was going to meet the area kids. “Just don’t wear a scary costume.”

  “What?” He widened his eyes humorously. “You don’t think I’m scary enough just as I am?”

  She had to laugh. “Actually, you’re not scary at all. I imagine you could be if you wanted to, but you’re not scaring me.”

  “Good,” he said and let it drop.

  “Then there’s Thanksgiving,” she continued. “I’ve pretty much decided I’m going to have a few friends at my place, rather than wait for them to invite me, which they usually do. Connie will be tied up with her big family, but there’s Marisa and Julie and their husbands and babies. Amber and Wyatt probably can’t come, because he’s a judge and he always has a big bash at his place...” She realized she was rattling on and looked up. Zane was smiling faintly at her. “Sorry.”

  “No need. The casserole is fabulous. It’s like most of a Thanksgiving meal.”

  “That’s the idea. Anyway, Zane, you’re on the invitation list if you decide you want to come. Up to you. I don’t think it’s going to be a whole lot of people, but I’ll keep you posted so you can decide if you’d feel...uncomfortable.”

  “Thank you.” Then he laughed again. “You and Nell. You’re trying to change my life.”

  “Sorry.”

  He shook his head. “No need to be sorry. Since I got here, I’ve been feeling a whole lot less like I just need to lick my wounds.”

  Her heart leaped. “You’re feeling better?”

  “I don’t know. I just know for a long time, especially after the eviction, I felt caved in on myself. Maybe I’m past it.” He looked to the side. “What do you think, Nell?”

  The dog woofed.

  “I thought so, since you keep running over to bring Ashley here.”

  “Or maybe she could smell what I was cooking,” Ashley joked. “Is she allowed people food?”

  “Not usually. Okay, I cheat once in a while,” he admitted.

  “I think that’s part of having a dog. I’ll give her just a bit of this, if that’s okay?”

  “Let’s skip it. Onions and garlic, in sufficient quantity, could make her sick.”

  She bit her lip, thinking. “I don’t want to trespass with Nell. She’s already doing something she shouldn’t, like coming to get me when you didn’t need help. I guess I shouldn’t even feed her a dog biscuit.”

  Only then did it occur to her what she’d done. She’d invited Zane to Thanksgiving at her house, a friendly gesture but poorly thought out. He hadn’t answered, and while she hadn’t expected an immediate answer, for the first time she realized what he was probably thinking about: How the heck was he going to get into her house? No ramp. Which would mean asking for help, and she’d already seen how little he liked to do that.

  “Oh, man,” she said quietly, forgetting her meal.

  “What?”

  “I just thought... My house isn’t very accessible. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, Zane.” She lifted her gaze to him and found him still smiling faintly, almost gently.

  “You are the most thoughtful person,” he said.

  “Clearly not. I put my foot in it.”

  He just shook his head. “Nope. Let me think about it, okay?”

  “Absolutely.” But now she felt miserable. She’d practically thrown his disability in his face with an invitation she shouldn’t have made impulsively. Dealing with her kids, she had to be more forward thinking than this.

  He surprised her by reaching for her hand again. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Feeling bad for inviting me. You know what you just did?”

  “Yeah.” With no way to take it back. No way to truly apologize for reminding him he could no longer just go anywhere he wanted, that he sometimes needed help. She ought to staple her lips together.

  “No, not what you’re thinking,” he said quietly. “You just treated me as if I didn’t have any disability at all. Like you were sitting with a normal
friend at this table.”

  Mild shock rippled through her. What a remarkable way to respond to her ham-handedness. She turned her hand over to clasp his fingers. “You’re amazing.”

  “Hardly that. But thanks for letting me know you don’t constantly see that I’m crippled.” He squeezed her hand and let go, picking up his fork again.

  Ashley sighed, feeling relieved and hoping he wasn’t just being nice. “I hate that word. Crippled.”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “I still don’t like it.”

  He arched a brow at her. “Why dance around it?”

  “I’m not dancing around anything. I just don’t like that word. It always strikes me as somehow cruel. You can use it if you want. I don’t like it.”

  “I’ve been living in a very different world these last eighteen years. Very little nicety.”

  “Then I must sound like a prude.” That also didn’t make her feel very good. Was she becoming the stereotypical schoolmarm?

  “Not at all. I was just explaining. I told you I’m rough around the edges. Most of my social skills were practiced among a group of men. Gotta tell you, it’s a different world.”

  She believed him. At last she let go of her concerns and decided to just enjoy the meal. For a guy who hadn’t wanted to be bothered at first, he was being extraordinarily friendly to her. Just enjoy it.

  “Did you ever marry?” he asked her as he continued eating.

  “Nope.”

  “Surprising.”

  “Why? I swore off men a long time ago. Not worth the effort. Relationships break up and it’s painful. Then there was the time I learned I was the other woman just a bit too late.”

  “Man,” he said. “That stinks.”

  “It sure did.” She managed a laugh. “Best to avoid those complications. So what about you?”

  “A few casual relationships. I wasn’t the type to rush into anything, and I was seldom home long enough to take it slow. By the time I shipped home, whoever she was had usually found someone else. Can’t say I blamed them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because waiting for me was like waiting for bad news.”

  Chapter Nine

  Waiting for me was like waiting for bad news.

  Zane’s words followed Ashley through the next few days. Through the tests, through the grading, through the building Halloween excitement as her class helped her decorate the room and special arrangements were made for Mikey to supervise some of it because he couldn’t physically help.

  In the streets outside, Halloween erupted into the world on nearly every front porch and front yard. While no one yet went all-out on the holiday—nothing like Christmas—nearly everyone found at least a small way to make the already special day more special for the trick-or-treaters.

  In the early twilight, electric pumpkins leered their crazy smiles at passersby. Ghosts made of sheets with straw heads stuffed inside hung from tree limbs. An occasional house sported orange lights. One house in particular had a yard full of cutout black cats in all sizes made by the home owner.

  And keeping the lid on her kids was getting more difficult. Their excitement was contagious. Her spirits lifted with theirs.

  Then there was Zane. She hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the night she’d brought the casserole over. Now it was the weekend again, with Halloween on Monday evening. Like every other teacher, she warned her kids not to stay out too late. The next day was a school day.

  Some of the stores downtown set up to hand out candy as well. The hospital would x-ray the candy and apples for free.

  So everything was right in the world. Except she hadn’t heard from Zane. Nell hadn’t come over, so she had to assume he was okay. She still wanted to set eyes on him.

  She carried a bag of groceries and another bag full of candy for the kids into the house and decided she needed to carve her pumpkin at last.

  But even as she put everything away and brought the pumpkin inside for carving, she couldn’t get her mind off Zane.

  She scolded herself for her foolishness. She had no claim on him and no business worrying unless there was a reason. As she put the pumpkin on her kitchen counter, however, she realized what was really bothering her. They’d had a very frank discussion over that casserole, and part of it had been about her making a mistake by inviting him to Thanksgiving and him calling himself a cripple.

  While she didn’t ordinarily obsess about things, she was obsessing now. No amount of telling herself to think about something else was really helping. Zane danced around in the back of her mind all the time. If she had half a brain, she’d just stay away until the fascination passed.

  The weekend coffee with her friends evaporated. Connie was on duty all weekend. Julie was preoccupied with her new son—who had apparently been named after his father, over Trace’s objections—and Marisa said she and Jonni had a cold and Ryker was taking care of them.

  It was one of the few times Ashley regretted being single. The feeling didn’t last long, however. All she had to do was remember her past mistakes. They stood in her mind like large yellow warning signs on a road.

  All things considered, she’d gotten off easy. No divorce, no kids from a broken home. Yeah, it was okay.

  But as she looked at the pumpkin and thought about hanging out the decorations she’d pulled down from the attic and placed in the living room, she decided she didn’t like the faint anxiety that was nagging at her because of Zane. She was worried. What if something had happened and Nell hadn’t come to get her? Or she’d been at school and...

  “Oh, cut it out,” she said to her empty house. She grabbed her jacket, picked up the pumpkin and went next door. She’d say hi, ask if he wanted to carve this pumpkin because she could get another one, and then maybe she could settle down.

  She spared only a moment to recognize that she might be getting herself into some heavy emotional ground here but assured herself she’d get past it. She’d gotten past stronger emotions than this strange, unfulfilled attraction.

  It would certainly help to learn he was doing just fine without her company. Yeah. That was what she needed to discover.

  Zane opened the door to her, Nell at his side and wagging her tail.

  “I came to visit the dog,” she said, “and I wondered if you might like to carve a pumpkin. If you don’t already have one.”

  Zane looked down at Nell. “You have a fan club,” he told her, then smiled at Ashley. “Come on in. Isn’t that the pumpkin I saw on your porch?”

  “Yeah, but I can always get another one. How have you been?”

  He let Nell close the door behind her, and she stole a moment to fill her eyes with him. Every time she saw him, he seemed to have grown more attractive and the pull she felt toward him was even stronger. Maybe this visit hadn’t been such a great idea.

  “I was just making some coffee, if you’d like some.”

  “I’d love some.” She let him lead the way to his kitchen.

  “Just put the pumpkin on the table. I was going out to get candy and maybe a pumpkin this evening.”

  So he was doing fine and hadn’t needed anyone. She almost blushed in private embarrassment, glad that he couldn’t guess she’d been obsessing about him all week.

  “I’ve been okay,” he said. “I accepted an invitation to the vets’ group. I’ll go next week.”

  And he was putting his life back together. What did he need her for now?

  “Your friend Seth is pretty persuasive,” he continued as he ferried cups of coffee to the table. “Other than that I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

  “Good thinking?”

  “Necessary thinking. It’s been a week since I had an episode. That’s made it easier. Time to try to find a way to make a life, I guess.”
r />   Her heart leaped with furtive hope. Maybe he was finding something good in himself. She took the chair and watched him roll over to the table. “So...what’s changed?”

  “Since I got shipped home, it’s been like...well, I don’t know how to explain it. It was tough, sure. A lot to deal with. The PTSD especially unnerved me. Even when I was okay, I was worrying about the next bout. So I guess I hunkered down. Tried to build a bunker, not that it could keep anything out. Then the eviction. I decided I was through. Finished. Done.”

  She nodded, understanding what he was saying. “Very hard.”

  “Ah, it was just cowardice.”

  She gasped. It pained her to hear him talk about himself that way. “No, not really. Not after all you’d gone through.”

  “Cowardice,” he repeated. “Hiding from the world? Hiding from my problems? If there’s one thing I should have learned as a SEAL, it’s that life isn’t fair, that turning your back on the mission is desertion and...” He shrugged. “Not to say I won’t backslide, but I’ve got a new mission. Take this mess and make something useful out of it.”

  The smile that filled her face also filled her heart. “Oh, Zane, that’s wonderful!”

  “Remains to be seen,” he said gruffly. “But I’m beginning to believe I had my head screwed on backward for a long time.”

  He’d had an awful lot to deal with, she thought. Of course he’d had trouble sorting himself out. She remembered how impressed she had been when he’d said he saw his paralysis as a challenge. Apparently, he’d decided to take on everything else the same way.

  “Unfortunately,” he said, “I can’t batter my PTSD into submission. But I think if I find a way to keep busy doing something productive, away from obvious triggers, I might have less trouble with it.”

  “I don’t know enough about it to judge, but it sounds good to me.” When he offered his hand, she took it and tried not to think about how badly she wanted to settle herself on his lap and feel his arms around her again. His hand on her breast. His mouth on hers.

  Whoa! This guy was living next door to her. No getting away. She’d better be careful.