A Promise to Protect (Logan Point Book #2): A Novel (14 page)

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Authors: Patricia Bradley

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BOOK: A Promise to Protect (Logan Point Book #2): A Novel
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From what Leigh had observed of Ben’s sister, she lived and talked at Mach-1 speed. “Sure.”

Marisa rose and pulled Tom away from the table. “Be back as soon as I settle your father in the den.”

“I’m going to start on these dishes,” Sarah said.

“And I’m going back to the jail,” Ben added.

“Wait,” Emily said. “I need you to drop the boys off at ball practice. I have a ton of paperwork to complete.”

“Em—”

Emily huffed. “If you have time to come by here and eat, you have time to drop them off on your way back to the jail.” She turned to Leigh as if the matter were settled. “I’m so sorry about Tony,” she
said as she filled her plate. “I was out of town and couldn’t come to the memorial service.”

Leigh suppressed a chuckle as Ben lifted his hands in defeat. She turned her attention to Emily. “I appreciate your thoughts.”

Ice crackled as Emily poured tea into a glass then squeezed lemon in it. Marisa came back into the kitchen, and she and Sarah tackled the mound of dirty dishes. Leigh started to get up and help, but Emily motioned her to stay put.

“I have a proposition for you,” Emily said. “Dr. Hazelit is leaving Monday for a month-long mission trip, and I don’t have a physician for the Helping Hands clinic. Would you like to fill in for him?”

Wow. For a half second, Leigh couldn’t breathe. Her own practice. Actually establishing a relationship with her patients long term. Or at least for a month.

Emily buttered a slice of corn bread. “I’ve already talked to the hospital administrator, and Doug’s willing to release you to me. The clinic is under the hospital umbrella so working there will count toward your service contract, along with any hours you work after Dr. Hazelit returns.”

Exactly the kind of experience she needed before applying to Johns Hopkins. “Why me? I mean, I’m inexperienced.”

“But more than qualified. I looked at your resume again today. I mean, a grade point average of 3.9 and all the time raising a son by yourself. Give yourself credit, girl. You can start Monday morning.” Emily paused long enough to take a sip of tea. “I know you’re supposed to work the weekend, but Doug said he’d get someone to cover—I want you fresh—but this late he couldn’t get anyone for tomorrow’s seven-to-three shift.”

“Thank you.” Tears burned against Leigh’s eyes, and the back of her throat tightened. Sometimes it was harder to accept kindness than criticism. A nagging thought speared her. Would the offer hold if Emily found out about TJ? The room blurred as the clink of dishes and Marisa and Sarah’s soft voices filled her ears. The
weight of her deception threatened to crack the dam around her heart. She was so tired of living a lie. Would it be so terrible if she told the truth? Told this family that TJ was Ben’s son?

Are you crazy? You’ve
kept the truth secret for ten years. Denied your son
a daddy. What do you think these people would say
about that? How would TJ react?

Feet clattering down the stairway snatched her back to reality. No one would understand. Not even TJ.

After Ben left with the twins and TJ, the house seemed way too quiet with Marisa getting her husband ready for bed and Emily off to check on the clinic. Sarah disappeared into her room to read, and Leigh wandered outside to the swing in the side yard. She did not like being a prisoner. She glanced toward Ben’s house, a ranch-style brick almost hidden by the wooded lot. After they’d settled in with his parents, he hadn’t suggested that they swap houses again. She sat in the swing and pushed against the ground, rocking the swing back and forth. Ben had told her the six-foot fence surrounding the property had been constructed about eight years ago, after his dad had been threatened by a drug-trafficking leader he’d put behind bars. She had to admit she did feel safe here, but at what price? Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket, expecting it to be the hospital. It was Ian Maxwell. “Hello?”

“Good evening. Do you think you could get someone to let me through the gate?”

“The gate?” She turned her head toward the road. A dark SUV had pulled into the drive. “Is that you in the driveway?”

“Yep. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Leigh knew the code but didn’t feel comfortable letting Ian in without talking to someone first. She hopped out of the swing and walked toward the back door. “Were you coming to see Ben? Because he’s not here.”

“No, I’m coming to see you.”

She almost stumbled. “But it’s only Thursday. We’re not going out to dinner until tomorrow night.”

“I have something to show you.”

“Oh. Well, wait a sec until I can find Marisa. I’ll call you back.” Leigh glanced down at the green scrubs she still wore, wishing she’d changed. She went in search of Ben’s mom, finding her in the den, knitting. “Uh, Ian Maxwell is asking if you’ll let him inside the gate.”

Marisa looked up from her needles. “Ian?”

Leigh shrugged. “Said he wanted to talk to me.”

“Oh, go ahead and let him in, and you don’t have to ask permission to let someone you know through the gate.” She smiled at her before returning to her knitting. “Enjoy your visit.”

At the door, Leigh glanced back at Marisa and caught her watching with a thoughtful expression on her face. Marisa wasn’t the only one puzzled by Ian’s visit. Outside, a black Escalade rolled to a stop near the front door. Ian stepped out, looking like he’d come from a fashion shoot for Ralph Lauren. She had to admit the short-sleeve V-neck tee showed off his chiseled pecs and biceps. And wonder of wonders, he wore a pair of jeans. Designer, for sure, and pressed with a sharp crease, but still . . .

Ian’s glance swept over her. “You’re looking lovely tonight,” he said.

She almost laughed. Green scrubs were probably the least flattering apparel ever designed. “I could say the same about you and be telling the truth. But what happened to the white long-sleeve shirt?”

Ian’s slow smile softened his square jaw. “Even I dress down sometimes.”

“Yeah, like that’s dressing down.” She tilted her head. “You said you had something to show me?”

“Grab your purse, or whatever you think you need. My crew finished with the house on Webster, and I want you to take a look at it.”

She caught her breath. She hadn’t mentioned moving to Ben . . . or anyone else. “I, ah, don’t think Ben wants me out alone.”

He straightened his shoulders. “What am I, chopped meat?”

Her face burned. “No, but you know what I mean. Somebody with a gun, maybe?”

“I am very proficient in firearms, and have a permit to carry. And the Glock in my console is registered. So that takes care of that problem.”

Her jaw dropped. Why did anything about Ian Maxwell surprise her? A cool breeze flitted through the trees, and Leigh rubbed her bare arms. Even though it was only the first of August, the wind carried the barest hint of fall. She tapped her fingers against her arm. What would it hurt to go see the Webster house? She would be with Ian, who could protect her if the need arose. Not that she thought it would.

Besides, Ben couldn’t keep her a prisoner here. She had a life to live . . . and tomorrow night a date with Ian. Did Ben expect to come along on that? “Let me tell someone I’m leaving and who with.” She would change while she was at it. “Wouldn’t want them to worry.”

Ten minutes later, the Escalade pulled up to the gate, and Leigh keyed in the code. Ben’s mom had given her a long, questioning look when Leigh had told her she was going out. But, bless her heart, she hadn’t said a word. Marisa seemed to have a high opinion of Ian and evidently thought Leigh would be safe with him.

When they arrived at the entrance to the subdivision, it was just as Ian had promised. The house was in a gated community, with a guard on duty. TJ would be safe here, and even Ben couldn’t complain about this arrangement.

She corrected herself. He’d probably find something wrong with it. “Ian, this is beautiful. It looks brand new. How much is the rent?”

“Don’t worry about money. This is something I want to do,” he replied as he opened the door and ushered her inside.

A marble entryway led into a great room with a fireplace. With slow steps, she moved throughout the fully furnished house, stopping when she came to the kitchen. Walnut cabinets, granite countertops . . . she’d never lived in anything so grand. “If I can’t pay, then I won’t even consider it.” The Logans had refused all offers of payment, and she wasn’t going to be in debt to Ian as well.

A frown pinched his face. “Leigh—”

She held up her hands. “No. How much do you generally receive for your rental property? And I can’t believe you rent out a place like this.”

His face reddened. “This one is actually staged to sell. That’s why it has furniture.”

She drew air into her lungs to put an end to this idea. “Ian—”

“Hear me out. Real estate isn’t moving right now. I’d rather have you in it than for it to sit here empty. You’d be doing me a favor if you moved into it.”

She ran her fingers over the dark gray countertop. It was so tempting. This neighborhood wasn’t far from Jenny, the babysitter. It’d been over a week since anything bad had happened. Maybe Ben would even think it was okay to let TJ go back to Jenny. Probably wouldn’t make her son happy, though. He liked staying at the Logans. Playing with the twins. Being around Pops and Granna. She sighed. “Let me think about it a day or two.”

“Sure, no hurry.” He dazzled her with a toothy smile. “How about a cup of coffee at the coffee shop in town? It’s not far—another plus for this house—and it’s close to town and all the stores.”

“You can quit selling. I told you I’d think about it.” Leigh really didn’t want to make a commitment until she spoke to Ben. She tilted her head. “Instead of coffee, could we stop by the ballpark? TJ’s practicing and I’d really like to watch.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Now why couldn’t Ben say something like that?

11

B
en, stay with us. Help Coach Andre.” TJ’s earnest face looked up into Ben’s with hope in his eyes as they pulled into the park entrance.

Ben rubbed the back of his neck as the familiar tightening of his stomach churned the supper he’d just eaten. “I don’t know, TJ.”

“Come on, Ben,” Josh chimed in. “Coach Andre needs some help with Dad gone, and since Jimmy got snake bit, him and his daddy don’t come anymore. I’ve heard Dad say you’re the best ballplayer Logan Point ever had.”

“I’m sorry, I have work to finish.” Wasn’t it enough that he helped with the Sunday school class? He slowed to let a family cross the road that looped through the park, noting that the forty-acre park was full tonight. He drove past three other fields filled with teams practicing and parked next to the ball field where a group of boys stood around his deputy.

Ben stepped out of the pickup and glanced around as the twins and TJ bolted toward the field. Andre was the only adult in sight. Where were the other dads?

Andre’s brown face broke into a grin when he spied Ben. “Have you come to help?”

Ben shook his head. “No. Just dropping the twins and TJ off. Where are your other coaches?”

Andre adjusted the ball cap on his head. “I’m it. Usually, Billy’s dad hangs around, but he had a meeting to attend. And I don’t know where Wade is. He said he’d be here, but . . .” Andre shrugged.

Ben snorted. Wade probably had a hot date with Ruth the librarian.

“Can you help me out, man? I’m dying here. Not enough me and too many boys.”

Ben pressed his lips together. He did the Sunday school thing partly to condition himself to being around kids, and it was helping, but coaching was different. What if one of the boys missed his pitch and the ball hit him in the mouth and broke a tooth? Or something worse.

“Just this once,” Andre pleaded. “I need at least one base coach, and maybe you could give TJ some pointers on the mound. He has a good arm, makes me think of you, the way he pitches.”

“TJ’s your pitcher?”

“Yeah, he’s the oldest kid I have, barely made the cutoff date.”

Ben rubbed his hand on his pants. He didn’t have anything pressing, and he could hardly go off and leave Andre with thirteen boys to coach alone. And how bad could it be? It was only baseball . . . it wasn’t swimming. But wait until he found Wade. He’d kill him. “All right,” he muttered. “I’ll stay.”

“Thanks, man!” Andre’s grin stretched across his face.

For the next hour, Ben worked with the boys, showing them how to tag up for a sacrifice fly, where their feet should be when they rounded the bag, and how important it was to keep their eye on the ball. He explained to TJ why he shouldn’t attempt a curve ball just yet. He could do this. He was actually glad he’d stayed.

Finally Andre waved the boys in. “Okay, let’s get in a little batting practice. Ben here will pitch. I’ll catch.”

Ben took his place on the mound. He kicked the dirt, remembering the times before when he’d stood there, settling his cleats in the ground, facing the next batter. His glance slid past home plate to the parking area. Was that Leigh getting out with Ian Maxwell?
What was she thinking? They walked toward the ball field as Andre pounded his catcher’s mitt.

“Right here, man. Put it right here.”

Ben turned and scanned the area. It
was
the park, very open, very public with a good-sized crowd tonight. Nothing suspicious showed up on his radar. Leigh should be okay. He kicked the dirt again and lobbed a soft pitch to TJ. The boy swung a fraction of a second too late, tipping the ball. Andre stood and pitched it back to him.

“Keep your eye on the ball, TJ,” Ben called. “And relax.” The kid had a good swing. He threw the ball again.

Thwack!
The ball sailed over the center field fence and into the woods that butted against the ballpark. A couple of the people walking behind the fence stopped and applauded.

“Way to go, TJ! I knew you could do it.” Andre tipped his cap as TJ crossed home plate, and the other boys came out to pound his back.

Ben left the mound, his glove tucked under his arm. “Good job, TJ!” The boy had a natural swing.

TJ’s grin lit up his whole face, then he turned and ran toward Leigh. “Mom! Did you see? I hit a home run!”

“I did.” Leigh laughed and hugged her son. Briefly, her gaze sought Ben before she hugged her son again. “You’re amazing. I’m glad I was here to see it.”

TJ squirmed from her embrace and cocked his head toward Ian. A slight frown formed on his face.

“You remember Tony’s boss? Ian Maxwell.”

The lines in TJ’s face deepened, and Ben agreed with his distrust.

“Your uncle was my friend,” Ian said. “I’d like us to be friends. That was a super home run.”

TJ stared a second longer, and when his expression softened, a pang stabbed Ben. He brushed it away. He was not jealous of Ian Maxwell.

“You really think it was good?” TJ’s eyes widened, almost begging for affirmation.

“Clear out of the park.” Ian glanced toward Andre. “I think you have a home-run batter here.”

Andre grinned and shook Ian’s hand.“Glad to see you here, Ian. You’ll have to come back and watch them play next week.”

Ian glanced toward Leigh with a proprietary air, and once again jealousy stung Ben. “I might just do that. How’s your dad? I miss seeing him at the plant since his surgery.”

“He’s good.” Andre cradled his glove in his arm. “He’s about ready to return to work.”

Ben turned to Leigh, his eyebrows raised. “I thought we agreed—”

“No, you made the decision. After I thought about it, I decided an impromptu ride to the ballpark wouldn’t hurt anything. Who would know I’d be here? Besides, I’m not staying long.”

Ian slipped his arm through Leigh’s. “Come on, Ben, she’s safe—she’s with me.”

That was what worried him. He hadn’t forgotten Phillip Maxwell’s remark about Ian being a lady’s man. He turned as Andre lifted his whistle to his lips and blew hard.

“Okay,” Andre yelled. “Let’s give the other boys a turn at batting, and then I’ll hit you some fielders.”

Ben took his place on the mound as daylight slipped into the dusky part of the day and one boy after another took his turn at bat. Leigh yelled encouragement to each of them. The night-lights flickered on as the last boy finished his stint at bat. Andre gathered the boys around him. “Okay,” he said. “First game, Saturday night, here on this diamond. Be here at 6:00 p.m., and we’ll practice for half an hour and then let the other team have the field for their warm-up. Maybe Ben will help us out again.”

Andre held up his hands for high fives then sent them out to practice fielding under the lights while Ben walked toward the bleachers. Wade better show up next time since there was no way
he’d fill in for his chief deputy again. At least one of his pitches hadn’t broken an arm or tooth. But the evening was young, and he couldn’t shake the dark clouds hovering in his head.

“Think they’ll win?” Leigh asked when he got within earshot.

“Maybe, but probably not. Andre said the other team’s coach has the state championship in his sights.”

“You don’t think Andre does?” Ian sounded skeptical.

“I don’t think he wants to put that kind of pressure on the kids. He wants baseball to be fun for them. . . besides, it’s not whether you win—”

“Or lose, it’s the way you play the game.” Ian snorted. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think—I’m not the coach.”

“Andre seems like a really good coach, but it looks like he needs help,” Leigh said. “Anyway, TJ had fun tonight. I need to thank your deputy for letting him play.”

Ian tapped Leigh with his elbow. “Quick, a fly ball to TJ.”

Ben turned as TJ got under the ball and snagged it. Then he hurled it back to Andre.

“Way to go, TJ!” Leigh pumped her fist into the air.

“Where’d he get all that talent? Pitching and fielding,” Ian said. “From his dad?”

“Yeah?” Ben said. “TJ has a good arm, and I don’t remember you being too good at sports.”

Even under the lights, Ben could see the two red circles that appeared on Leigh’s cheeks as she pressed her lips together. “I played tennis, but if you remember, Tony was a great pitcher, and TJ
is
his nephew.”

On the field, Andre blew his whistle and called an end to practice. Within minutes, thirteen boys surrounded him, clamoring for ice cream. “Not this time. But I do want you boys to police the area.”

Leigh waved to her son then turned to Ian. “If they’re finished, maybe TJ can ride back with us.”

Ben stuck his hands in his pockets. “Or you could ride back with us. I doubt TJ will want to leave the twins.” He didn’t say it, but he doubted Ian would want three sweaty boys in his Escalade.

Evidently the idea occurred to Leigh as well because she shot an uncertain glance toward the SUV. “That might be a good idea.”

Ian squared his shoulders. “I brought you, I’ll take you home, the boys too, if they want to ride. But are they ready to leave? I think I just heard the coach tell them the area needs policing.”

Ben had heard that as well. “We’ll probably be here another half hour.”

Frowning, Leigh glanced toward the field. “I really do need to get back.”

Ben shrugged. “I’ll bring the boys home.”

He walked toward the team, stopping to look over his shoulder as Ian and Leigh picked their way through the grass to Maxwell’s fancy SUV. Ian’s hand rested on the small of Leigh’s back.

TJ tugged on Ben’s arm, and he turned to see what the boy wanted. He stood with Andre’s little brother. “Martin and his family are going to the lake this weekend for a picnic. Could we have a picnic sometime? Go to the lake? We could swim.”

Ben’s whole body stiffened.

Martin elbowed TJ. “Sheriff don’t swim, doofus. Everybody knows that, on account of that boy that drowned. Ain’t that—”

“Hey, Martin.” Andre’s loud voice overrode his brother’s words. “Go round up the bats and start picking up the trash.”

Martin looked up and ducked his head under the scowl on his big brother’s face. He grabbed TJ’s arm. “Come on, you gotta help me.”

The two boys sauntered to the fence where bats lay scattered like pick-up sticks, Martin’s mouth moving like a magpie’s. Once TJ looked back at Ben, his eyes wide. No explanation needed for what Martin had shared with TJ. Ben’s stomach churned, the meal he’d eaten earlier souring. How did Martin know unless . . . He glanced at Andre.

His deputy averted his gaze. “Who needs rides?” he yelled. “And who has parents picking them up?”

Only two hands went up for rides. “Okay,” Andre said. “I’ll text your parents that we’re done. And while we’re waiting, the rest of you help Martin and TJ.”

The boys scattered over the field, picking up wrappers and anything else that’d been dropped. Ben slipped the bat carrier on his shoulder, and he and Andre walked toward the fence where the two boys had stacked the bats in a semi-neat order.

Andre held the bag while Ben slid the aluminum clubs into it. “Sorry about what Martin said.”

“He only repeated what he’d heard.”

“My parents asked why you didn’t help coach . . . I guess he heard us talking, but Ben, nobody blames you for Tommy Ray’s death.”

“Billy Wayne did. His old man still does.”

“Well, I was there. Everybody thought Tommy Ray was horsing around. You couldn’t tell he was in trouble.”

“Thanks, Andre, but you’re my friend, and you might be a little prejudiced. I should’ve gone in after him right away instead of throwing him the inner tube.”

His deputy palmed his hands. “But that’s what a lifeguard is supposed to do. We took the same training. It was a terrible accident, and it’s been three years. It’s time to let it go.”

If only he could. “I was in charge, and I let Tommy Ray and his family down. I keep thinking if I’d just—”

“Ben, turn it over to God. It wasn’t your fault. But if you’re convinced it was, just remember God has already forgiven you—forgave you the day it happened. Let. It. Go.”

Not one day in the three years since the Gresham boy died had Ben felt God’s forgiveness. “Look, let’s talk about—”

“Coach!” Yells rent the air.

“Come here quick!”

“There’s a snake!”

“Martin got bit!”

Ben jerked in the direction of the screams. Martin sat on the ground near the center field fence, holding his leg. Ben sprinted toward him with Andre right behind him. “Don’t move!”

Martin rocked on the ground, holding his leg to his chest with the other boys huddled around him. Andre knelt beside his brother while Ben yanked out his cell phone and speed-dialed Leigh. “Can you get back here? We have a boy with a snakebite.”

Ben knelt at the boy’s feet. He’d known something bad was going to happen.

Andre pocketed his phone. “An ambulance is on the way. They said to keep him still and for him to lie down.”

“It . . . hurts. My leg h-hurts.”

Ben used his glove as a pillow for Martin, then he turned to his deputy. “Get the boys to the bleachers, then see if the snake is still around here. All of you, watch where you step.” He turned back to Martin. “I’m going to look at your foot, okay? You just lay there and be still.”

Martin’s small body jerked as Ben gently turned the swollen ankle. “I’ll try not to hurt you.” He unbuckled the cleated shoe and slipped his shoe and sock off, dread filling him at the sight of two puncture wounds above his ankle, usually a sign of a poisonous snake. Maybe it was a dry bite, one where the snake hadn’t injected much venom. “Do you remember what the snake looked like?”

Martin shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t see it. It just jumped and bit my leg.”

“I did,” TJ said.

Ben snapped his head around. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to go with Andre.”

TJ blinked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave my friend.”

“Well, what did it look like?”

“It was reddish brown and had some kind of round pattern on it.”

Ben’s stomach tightened. Copperhead. He examined the boy’s
leg. The swelling extended up the leg. “Martin, I need you to be really still until the ambulance gets here, okay?”

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