A Promise to Protect (Logan Point Book #2): A Novel (22 page)

Wade jerked his head toward the jail. “You know whoever promoted that fight last night did this. And probably put the snakes out at the ball field. I’d think you’d want to catch them.”

Ben blew a breath through his lips. “I don’t want to lose a deputy doing it.”

Finally Wade shrugged. “Okay, we’ll do it your way.”

“Thanks.”

“Do I still get Sunday off? Told Ruth we’d go out to the lake.”

“Sure. Until Cummings contacts you, we’re pretty much in a holding pattern.” The weekend stretched empty before Ben. Maybe Taylor Martin would get that profile completed. “I plan to work.”

After Wade climbed into his truck and pulled away from the jail, Ben went inside. “Evening, Mark,” he said to the dispatcher. “Everything quiet?”

“For Friday night. But wait until the juke joints crank up.”

“Call me if you need me.” Ben fingered his keys. For a couple of hours, he’d put the problem of Leigh and her stubbornness out of his mind. But now it was time to deal with it. He walked to his office, unhooking his cell phone along the way, and dialed her number. It went straight to voice mail. Immediately he dialed his mother.

“Is Leigh there?” he asked when she answered. He glanced at the fire marshal’s report on his desk.

“Sorry, Ben, but she and Sarah and TJ moved into that house Ian offered.”

“You’re kidding.” He couldn’t believe she’d actually gone through with it.

“You have to realize she’s a grown woman, making her own choices. She’s not under arrest.”

Too bad she wasn’t. “Where is this house?”

His mother gave him the address, and he jotted it down. “It’s a couple of blocks from your sister’s house.”

Was that news supposed to make him feel better? Although, it was a pretty secure area. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Ben,” she said before he could hang up. “I, ah . . .”

“Yes?”

On the other end of the phone, his mother sighed. “If she wants to do this, you can’t stop her. Don’t burn all your bridges trying to.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He picked up the fire marshal’s report and read through it again. He might not be able to keep her from staying in Ian’s house, but he could at least try.

C
hains holding the swing creaked as Leigh pushed against the porch deck. A couple of yards over, a neighbor had just finished mowing his grass in the last light of the day. Ian’s light musky cologne vied with the fresh-cut clippings.

TJ had gone home with the twins for a while, and Sarah was unpacking, something Leigh had been in the middle of when Ian had interrupted them an hour ago with a fantastic sourdough pizza. Now she was too full. A light from the living room window illuminated the porch in a soft glow, and she leaned against the back of the swing as it rocked slowly back and forth. She could get used to being taken care of.

“A dollar for your thoughts.”

“A dollar? I’m not sure they’re worth that much,” she said and rubbed her hand over the smooth finish on the swing. “I was in that place men like to go—you know, thinking of absolutely nothing.”

“I didn’t think women did that.”

“This woman does.”

He tilted his head to the side. “This has been a hard summer for you. Tony’s death, the fire . . .”

She shifted her gaze to the yard, where lightning bugs flickered their mating signals. Hard didn’t begin to describe this summer. She missed Tony so much. His crazy practical jokes, his brotherly
advice that she rarely took. His presence. She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. It didn’t take much to bring them on. A memory, a question from TJ . . . She’d found out very quickly that she didn’t always get a choice of when the tears came, and they sometimes ambushed her in odd places, like the grocery when she picked up a box of cereal for TJ and remembered it was the same brand she and Tony liked growing up. And argued over who had dibs on the last bowl.

“Did you ever get the fire marshal’s report?”

Ian’s question brought her back to the present. “No. But Ben was expecting to get it today. He still thinks it will show someone set fire to the house.”

“Why does he believe someone would want to burn you out?”

“He keeps talking about that flash drive Tony told him about. That whoever wants it thought it might be in the house.”

“So, you evidently haven’t run across it.”

“I’m not sure I would recognize it if I did. Some of those drives are tiny.” She turned to him. “Do you have any idea what could’ve been on it?”

Ian shook his head. “Probably something to do with his gambling endeavors.”

“So you think it had nothing to do with his job at Maxwell Industries?”

“That’s one thing I can be certain of.” He pushed with his foot to keep the swing going.

“You’re probably right that it had to do with his gambling. When he started taking TJ to church, Tony changed. Maybe some of the things he was involved in got to him.” She sighed. “I don’t want to think about it tonight.”

They sat in silence as dusk faded into night. The scent of Ian’s cologne teased her nose again. She tried to identify the fragrance. Definitely a little musk, a hint of cedar, maybe a little vanilla. She sensed rather than saw his arm slide behind her on the swing. He
was so close to her, their legs almost touched. She shifted over slightly and turned to look at him. “Thank you again for this place.”

His blue eyes held amusement in them. “That’s about the fifth time you’ve thanked me since I arrived. Enough already. And you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “Thanks—I mean, well, we probably will only be in Logan Point another six weeks, so I may take you up on that.”

“Six weeks? What are you talking about?”

“I’ve taken a position at Johns Hopkins.” She still couldn’t believe her dream was coming true.

“I thought you had a service contract to fulfill at Bradford General.”

“It’ll transfer. I’ll be working at a free clinic in one of Baltimore’s low-income districts.”

“I think congratulations are in order. If I’d known, I would’ve brought a bottle of champagne instead of pizza.”

How refreshing to not have to defend her every decision. Why couldn’t Ben be more like Ian?

He leaned closer. “I like Baltimore, and it isn’t that far.”

Her heart sank as he held her captive with his blue eyes. She should have seen this coming. “Umm—”

Lights flashed across the front porch, and Leigh jumped back. Beside her, Ian muttered something under his breath as she shaded her eyes against the lights.

A car door opened. “Sorry, folks. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” Ben’s voice carried in the still night air.

He didn’t sound sorry. And he’d probably be just as difficult about the move. “Would you mind dousing those lights?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The lights died as Ben slammed his truck door and ambled toward them. Ian stood and held out his hand. “Evening, Sheriff.”

“Ian.” Ben shifted the papers he held to his left hand. “Nice night,” he said, shaking Ian’s hand.

Leigh lifted her chin. “Did you need something, Ben?”

He propped his foot on the bottom step. “Thought we might finish our conversation from earlier today.”

“I believe the subject we were discussing is no longer relevant.”

“I don’t know. I have the fire marshal’s report and would like to go over it with you.”

Ian cleared his throat. “I have paperwork at the office that needs attention.” He squeezed her hand. “Why don’t I call you tomorrow?”

She smiled at him. “Thanks, Ian. For everything.”

Ben waited until Ian drove away before climbing the steps and sitting beside her in the swing. “Nice place. Did you tell him you won’t be staying long?”

“What do you mean?”

“The job in Baltimore.”

“Oh. Yes, we discussed it.” Ben sat as close as Ian had, but the effect was so different. Electricity charged the space between them. Ian and Ben didn’t wear the same type of cologne, either. Ben smelled more like Dial soap, maybe like he’d just taken a shower. “You said something about the fire marshal’s report?”

He handed her the papers. “That’s your copy. It basically says it wasn’t lightning. Your house showed none of the usual characteristics of a lightning strike. No path that it took, your wiring wasn’t wiped out, no wallpaper peeled around light switches.”

“What
does
it say?” She could take the papers inside and read them, but it would be quicker for Ben to just tell her.

“Someone shot an arrow wrapped in a kerosene-soaked rag onto the roof of your house. Even though the shingles were wet, the combination of kerosene and asphalt was enough to start the blaze. Your rafters were old and dry . . . excellent kindling.”

Ben’s matter-of-fact voice made his words even scarier. “Are you sure?”

“The chemical analysis of one of the samples came back today. It showed traces of kerosene, and yesterday the fire marshal found
a single broadhead arrow tip in the rubble he was sifting. A tip exactly like the ones used to set the fire at the jail. Someone tried to burn your house down with you and your son in it.”

Leigh bolted from the swing with her hand over her mouth. She barely made it to the bathroom before losing the pizza. Ben followed, and she soon felt a cool washcloth pressed to her forehead as she sank to the floor and waited to see if she would throw up again. When she was certain it was over, she scooted to the wall and leaned her back to it.

Ben re-wet the cloth and sat beside her, gently wiping her face. “I’m sorry, Leigh.”

TJ could’ve died. Sarah. Her.
Why?
She pressed the cloth against her eyes as hot tears filled them and splashed down her cheeks. Ben’s arms went around her, and she leaned into his chest. She couldn’t do this. Not alone.
Tell him the truth. Tell
him TJ is his son. He has a right to
know.

Leigh wanted to, she really did. But how? Maybe if she just opened her mouth and let the words out. “We need to talk.”

“No.” He stood and pulled her up. “We’re packing your things, and you’re moving back to my parents’ house. Where’s TJ?”

Did Ben have a one-way brain? And where did he get off thinking he could order her around? She’d been crazy to think she could tell this bullheaded man the truth. “I’m staying here.”

“Leigh, did you not hear one word I said?”

“I heard everything you said. Someone set fire to my house. They used a bow and arrow. Look around, Ben. Do you think anyone will get past that guard at the entrance with a bow and arrow? Your sister lives here, for goodness’ sake. TJ is with her now. Your nephews play in their backyard without fear. That’s why I moved here.”

He stepped back and held his hands out. “Okay. You don’t have to take my head off.”

“Then quit trying to boss me around. You are not my husband,
so quit trying to tell me what to do. And get out of my bathroom so I can brush my teeth.”

Husband. Is that what he wanted to be to her? Ben paced the living room as he waited for Leigh to appear. No. He was never getting married.

Then why did it make him so mad when he saw Ian sitting in the swing with her?

He glanced around the room. Expensive furniture, real paintings, the house itself. He couldn’t give Leigh anything so fancy. He fought the jealousy that filled his heart. It stabbed him again when he remembered how his lights had illuminated Leigh and Ian practically kissing. He turned as she walked into the room. “What’s going on with you and Ian, anyway?”

She gaped at him. “Did you just ask me—” Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I think you need to go. This conversation is getting absolutely out of hand.”

Could he get his size twelve foot out of his mouth? This woman was absolutely driving him crazy. And at a time he needed his focus elsewhere, like the dogfighting ring and figuring out who was going around setting fires with a bow and arrow.

“And forget about us moving. This place is safe.”

Ben swallowed the retort on his lips. She was right. The house was located in the middle of the subdivision. It would be pretty well impossible for anyone to shoot an arrow to this roof from outside the neighborhood. With the exception of his parents’ home, the house was probably the safest place in Logan Point.

He tried again. “Wait, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

She stepped closer to him and poked him in the chest. “No. You wait. Who I see and where I live is none of your business. I’m tired of imposing on your folks. I want a place of my own. And—”

“Okay.” He stood his ground because if he took another step
back, he’d be out the door. Besides, all he wanted to do was grab that finger jabbing him. Pull her into his arms and kiss her. Hard.

Leigh’s pupils filled her green eyes. She dropped her hand and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m glad that’s settled.”

Only it wasn’t. He still wanted to pull Leigh close and kiss her. He leaned in, and loved the wonder in her face as he traced his finger down her cheek, lingering on her lips. Then he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. They were soft, yielding, and he slid his hands to her shoulders, deepening the kiss. Leigh tasted minty, like toothpaste. Her arms circled his neck as she returned his kiss.

What was he thinking? He broke away. “I’m sorry. I . . . I have to leave.”

Color drained from her face except for two red circles on her cheeks. Leigh stepped back. Without another word, she wheeled and ran up the stairs.

Ben’s shoulders sagged. Kissing her had been wrong on so many levels, and now he’d hurt her deeply. He picked up the fire marshal’s report and put it on the table. Maybe he could straighten this out tomorrow. A door slammed upstairs.

If she would talk to him.

With her face burning almost as much as her heart hurt, Leigh stood at her bedroom window as Ben backed out of the drive. Why had she let herself be drawn into that kiss? Because she wanted him to do it. Even earlier, when she believed Ian was going to kiss her, it had been Ben she wanted. Then he had to go and make it plain kissing her was a mistake. And to think she almost told him about TJ. What a mistake that would have been. He didn’t want a wife, much less a child.

She turned from the window at a soft tap on her door and pasted on a smile. “Come in.”

Sarah opened the door and slipped inside. “You okay?”

“I guess you heard.”