Hide The Child

“Please.”

She leaned against a sort of breakfast bar rather than trying to sit on a stool. She studied Chloe, who had made surprising inroads on her burger, which from experience Trina knew was completely plain. She wouldn’t have touched the sliced tomatoes, onions or lettuce Gabe had set out, or the ketchup or mustard, either. What surprised Trina was that the three-year-old didn’t seem wary of Gabe. She shied from most people, especially men, yet was happily eating food he’d put in front of her, her bare feet swinging.

“Did you nap?” Trina asked.

Chloe nodded.

“She was up for a couple of hours in the middle of the day,” Gabe said, “napped again and got up about an hour ago.”

Intrigued, Trina wondered how he’d entertained Chloe for those two hours. The little girl appeared surprisingly comfortable with him. “How long did I sleep?”

He glanced at the microwave. “Nine hours.”

“Really?” She’d have had to be deeply asleep for Chloe to have slipped out of bed without her noticing. “I never conk out like that.”

“I don’t suppose you had a very good night’s sleep,” he said dryly.

“Well, no, but...” Her stomach growled and she pressed a hand against it. “I’m starved. I haven’t had anything to eat since last night.”

“I guessed. Here.” He handed her a plate with baked beans, corn and a cheeseburger on a fat bun. “Chloe declined the beans.”

The little girl wrinkled her nose.

Trina kissed the top of her head. “She’s at an age to be picky.”

“Figured.” He produced silverware, then brought his own plate over to the bar and sat on Chloe’s other side, hooking the heels of his boots on a rung as if it were a fence rail.

After gobbling half her meal, Trina said, “It’s been peaceful?”

He glanced at her sidelong. “Yep. We made a clean getaway.”

“Yes, but... I can’t be completely out of touch.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

Something about his tone made her wonder how two-way he intended that talk to be. Did he really think Joseph’s sister would be meek and docile? Dealing with him would be easier if she could read him better, but he was so guarded she wondered what it would take to shatter his control. Something told her pain hadn’t done it. In fact, he might have shored up his walls during his lengthy recuperation.

Chloe dropped her cheeseburger without finishing it. She immediately crawled over onto Trina’s lap. Trina held her with her left arm and kept eating.

“I don’t suppose you have any toys around?” she asked after a minute.

Gabe snorted.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Actually... Well, I’ll look around. I said it was okay for Boyd to loan this place out to a friend of his. Ski vacation. He had a family. Don’t know how old the kids were. They might have left something behind.”

Chloe’s head came up. She’d been following the conversation.

Unable to quite clean her plate, Trina finished eating first. “Do you have a satellite dish?”

“Yeah. Hey. Channel three has the lineup.”

She’d seen the living room but not taken it in. She couldn’t describe it as homey, exactly; Gabe had furnished it with the basics but not bothered with artwork or homey touches like table runners or rugs. The sofa and a big recliner were brown leather that made her think of saddles. The clean lines of the oak coffee table and single end table might be Mission style. Built-in bookcases lined one wall and held an impressive stereo system as well as quite a library. A big-screen TV hung above a cabinet that had drawers. Trina went to investigate those.

Among a good-size collection of movies for grown-ups, she found three DVDs aimed at kids: Finding Nemo, A Bug’s Life and Arthur’s Perfect Christmas. Chloe decided on Arthur’s Perfect Christmas. Trina succeeded in getting it started and Chloe climbed onto the sofa and settled happily to watch.

Returning to the kitchen, Trina reported, “Your renters apparently went home without a few of their movies.”

He was loading the dishwasher and glanced up. “Ones she’ll watch?”

How a man could look so sexy doing such a mundane task, she didn’t know, but he succeeded.

“Yep.”

“Then this is probably a good time for us to talk.”

“Yes, except...” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I have a problem.” Actually, she had so many problems they’d add up to a lengthy list, but one thing at a time, Trina decided. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to change the dressings on my back and apply more ointment. Unless you have a mother or girlfriend nearby who could be persuaded to volunteer.”

“Neither.”

* * *

WELL, HELL. SHE was going to half strip so he could stroke ointment over her skin with his bare hands? Might as well ask him to run his hand along a strand of barbed wire. Dangerous. He wasn’t the only one conscious of the risks, either; the pink in her cheeks was from a different kind of heat.

Think of this as a medical problem, he told himself. “How badly are you burned?”

“Not that terrible. According to the doctor, mostly first-degree, spots of second-degree. No worse than a really bad sunburn. The fire didn’t touch me, but while I was lowering Chloe out the window and waiting until I could follow her, flames burst through the door behind me and—” She visibly shied from the memory. “I was just...too close to it.”

“Okay.” He tried to sound gentle, which had the effect of roughening his voice. “How often do we do it?”

“Twice a day until it’s obviously healing. Which shouldn’t be more than two or three days.”

Gabe thought it over. “I don’t want to leave Chloe downstairs by herself. If you’ll pause the movie—”

“Why don’t we wait until she’s gone to bed?”

Yeah, sure. Then they’d be alone, house quiet and dark around them. Her stretched out on his bed, since Chloe would be in hers.

He cleared his throat. “If you don’t need it done sooner.”

“It can wait.”

“All right.” Needing a distraction, he lifted the carafe from the fancy coffee maker that had been one of his first purchases after he’d had the cabin built. “Would you like a cup?”

“That would be great.”

“You okay on the stool, or would a chair be more comfortable?”