A Wife For Ben. Cheryl Wolverton

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СКАЧАТЬ he was right. She was numb.

      He was very perceptive.

      Studying him, she realized he wasn’t feeling as well as he sounded, either. “Does your throat hurt as much as mine does?”

      A crooked grin tilted one corner of his mouth. “I don’t know. How much does your throat hurt?”

      “Feels like a rusty railroad track, and the train derailed somewhere along the line,” she admitted.

      He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s go to the house. You can take one of those pills the doctor gave you—after you shower.”

      “Clothes!” she said, suddenly realizing all she had were the pajamas she was dressed in.

      Ben glanced down, realizing what she was wearing.

      “Ah, um…” He stepped away from her, looking acutely uncomfortable. “You can borrow one of my shirts. You really shouldn’t go in there until we’re certain how stable the structure is. And your daughter, well, can she wear a T-shirt maybe?”

      He acted like he was embarrassed or unsure of the offer. To her it sounded like a lifeline. “Thank you—again,” she said.

      He nodded.

      “Let’s go,” he said firmly but gently.

      She nodded and headed to the car. “Thank you again,” she whispered as she started to climb in the car.

      Ben smiled and said as he shut her door, “We’re going to have to talk about this thank-you thing.”

      She thought they could talk, but after seeing what her daughter’s former bedroom looked like, she’d never get tired of saying it.

      No matter what he said.

      Chapter Four

      Family are the people who know everything about you and are willing to comment on everything even if it’s not their business.

      —Ben’s Laws of Life

      “Do you need to call your boss? Maybe some friends to let them know you’re okay?”

      Ben stood in the living room watching the way the little girl, Katie, clung to her mom as her mom hung up the phone from the insurance company and then dialed Katie’s school. She had said those were the two calls she had to make. He thought it was strange that she didn’t call friends or a boss. They looked so odd standing there in his kitchen, covered with soot, dirtying his phone. The child clung to the mother and the grimy teddy bear clutched to her chest with equal desperation.

      He wondered what the two saw in his house. Trying to see it through their eyes, he noted the stark wood furniture with the brown cushions. A large tan rug covered part of the polished wooden floor in the lower section of the living room where he stood.

      Various pads and pencils were tossed on the coffee table and end tables. The shelf over the fireplace was empty except for a few gifts his sister had gotten him—mugs, a picture of her, her husband and two kids.

      There were no knickknacks or crocheted table covers like his grandmother had had sprinkled all over her house. He had some in a box somewhere that he’d gotten when Grandma Betsy had died, but he’d never bothered to unpack them.

      He hadn’t understood their use—until now. The house looked sort of bare without such things.

      “No. I mean, there’s the church, but then there’s not a lot they can do—except maybe clothes and food—after I figure out what I’ll need. As for friends, well…” She shrugged. “And, well, I’m my own boss, actually. I do ad campaigns for businesses. Art and things like that. Graphics. I also do Web sites.” She shrugged and replaced the phone in the cradle, which rested on the wall near the kitchen.

      He was glad he tended to keep a clean—if empty—house. The kitchen had a couple of dirty dishes in the sink, but that was it. The dining room table in front of the patio doors was spotless except for a few more pads of paper.

      Suddenly, he smiled triumphantly. There were place mats there—the ones his sister had bought him last Christmas.

      Realizing the woman was staring at him, he said, “That’s interesting. You know, I was thinking of hiring someone to create a Web page for me and work up an ad. My business has been picking up this last year, and I wanted to focus on expanding it through the media.”

      It was the truth.

      It was also an invitation for her to talk. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this awkward around a woman. Seeing her there in her pink frilly pajamas… Oh man, he thought, and almost slapped his head as he realized he’d made her and her daughter continue to stand there, soot-covered, in their pajamas.

      “It’s important you have an idea what you want before you get started. Perhaps I could give you some advice,” she offered.

      He walked up to the second level of the house, went to the hall and started down it. “I’d like that.”

      “Can you perhaps give me an idea how much the repairs might be to the house? I have insurance but I know there’s going to be some out-of-pocket expense. You do those things, so maybe you have an idea?”

      He listened to her voice as he dug through his closet and found two shirts. He stopped at the linen closet and dug out towels. She sounded just as nervous as he did, he realized.

      He returned to the living room and set his plunder on the table. “Tell you what,” he said, thinking to relax the woman a bit. He had a very bad feeling she was strapped for money. Maybe it was because the pajamas she wore were faded and frayed around the wrists and ankles. Or maybe it was the fact that the little kid’s gown was about three inches too short, both on the legs and arms. “Would you consider doing up a campaign for me if I waived the repair job costs?”

      He’d said something wrong, he realized immediately from the way she stiffened. Lifting his hands in a conciliatory gesture, he offered, “We’ll draw up a contract. It’ll be strictly business. But as I was saying earlier, I sure could use some advice on that expansion John and I are planning.”

      She hesitated then relaxed. “Let’s discuss that.”

      Relieved she hadn’t taken him to task for the crazy offer, he nodded. “Sounds good.”

      Rubbing at his throat, he went into the kitchen. “I hope you’ll make yourself at home. Just help yourself if you want drinks or food. I’ll warn you, I’m not the best host in the world. I’m a workaholic,” he ruefully admitted. “I plan to call my company, take a shower and then rest for a while. I’d suggest you two do the same.”

      He opened the medication the doctor gave him for pain and downed two pills. He got a glass out of the cabinet next to the sink, slid it into the refrigerator door and filled it up, quickly swallowing the cold water.

      At the giggle from the little kid, he turned his head, curious. “You got water out of there,” she informed him.

      He blinked. “Yeah.”

      “She’s never seen one of those before,” Stephanie СКАЧАТЬ