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  At times Ashley would catch herself watching Landon a bit longer than necessary, enjoying herself more than she’d intended. But in the end she always kept her focus. All the reasons for their not being together were still valid, after all—and besides, Landon was moving to New York. These were possibly their last times together, the final days of a friendship that had taken root back when they were barely more than kids. They were on safe ground. Landon spoke nothing of the feelings he’d admitted to in the hospital. Ashley chose to believe that he’d finally let go, that he had taught himself not to think of her that way.

  One Friday afternoon four weeks after Landon’s injury, he called Ashley at work, desperate for a diversion. “Can Cole come over and play?”

  “Don’t do that to me!” Ashley laughed. “I need to know the world outside these walls is still sane.”

  “Sorry.” Landon let out a half-chuckle, half-moan. “I’m so bored, sitting here in this body armor, and my leg is itching like crazy. Tell me you’re bringing my favorite little boy over tomorrow.”

  “Well . . .” Ashley carried the portable phone into the living room. Edith, Irvel, and Helen were snoring peacefully while Matlock played out on the old television set. “I have to clean my garage. And later, let me think . . . oh, yes. I’m supposed to straighten my bookshelf.”

  “That busy, huh?”

  “You know it.” She stifled a giggle and leaned against the living-room wall. “Never a dull moment.”

  “How’s the screamer?” Landon’s mood was still light, but his tone was softer. He cared about the people at Sunset Hills. The more Ashley talked about them, the more connected he seemed to get.

  “She screamed right on target, poor thing. The minute she hit the bathroom.”

  “Did Belinda dope her up again?”

  “No.” Ashley let her eyes settle on Edith. “Belinda was out running errands.”

  “So, what’d you do?”

  “Talked to her, sat with her.” Ashley gazed out the window. It was another beautiful summer day, the kind that made her feel like painting. “Took about half an hour, but eventually she calmed down. She said the strangest thing.”

  “What?”

  “She said she’d seen a witch. A witch that wanted to kill her.”

  Landon whistled low. “No wonder she screams.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” Ashley looked back at Edith again. The woman was completely at peace now, with no memory of whatever she’d seen earlier.

  “Maybe it’s spiritual, Ashley. Maybe she really is seeing something.”

  “Come on, Landon.” Ashley resisted the urge to laugh out loud. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

  “Well . . .” Landon’s tone was even. When it came to matters of faith, he never preached at her. He knew her position and didn’t try to change her way of thinking. “I do, actually. Tell you what. I’ll make you a promise.”

  “What’s that?” Ashley looked down and made invisible flower patterns on the table with the tip of her finger. Why was she so uncomfortable whenever he talked about God things?

  “From this day on I’ll pray about Edith’s screaming. Until something happens, okay?”

  “Okay.” Ashley kept her voice light. “Whatever makes you happy.”

  There was a pause and Ashley wondered if he was frustrated with her. After a moment she heard a munching sound. “Mom brought me homemade caramel corn.” He chomped a bit more. “Cole would love it.”

  She grinned. Good. He wasn’t mad. “You think my bookshelf can wait—is that what you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying, what time can you bring that boy over to play?”

  She laughed. “Okay. Fine. We’ll come over after naptime. About three o’clock, okay?”

  “In the morning?” Landon sounded hopeful, more like her four-year-old son than the strong, stoic firefighter.

  “In your dreams.” Ashley let loose another quiet laugh. It was refreshing to know both sides of the man. Refreshing and just a little dangerous. He’s not your type, Ashley reminded herself. He’d have you cooking casseroles for the church potluck in no time. Besides, he’s moving to New York. Keep it simple.

  “Well, Miss Ashley, you flatter yourself.” Landon’s tone was teasing. She could almost see the sparkle in his eyes. “I was talking about Cole. He could come for a sleepover. We could build a tent and play cops and robbers and have guy talks. You know, eat caramel corn all night and not sweep up the crumbs—that kind of thing. It’d be a blast. Come on, Mom.”

  Ashley’s smile faded some. A wistful wind blew against her conscience. Sleeping in a living-room tent, playing cops and robbers, guy talks—all the things Cole was missing out on by not having a father.

  She swallowed, keeping a lid firmly on her simmering heart. “Very funny. We’ll be there at three . . . in the afternoon.” She glanced at the clock. She had chores to do, and she needed to check on Bert and Laura Jo before her shift was over. “See you then.”

  * * *

  Ashley let Cole oversleep on Saturday afternoon.

  While he napped, she started work on a new painting—a portrait of Irvel with a teapot. Ashley had captured the image with a snapshot taken the week before. Deeply involved in sketching out the piece and laying down a background, she lost track of time. It was four-thirty when they finally picked up two pizzas and drove the short distance to Landon’s house.

  He met them at the door, crutches under both arms, his fully casted leg stretched out in front of him.

  “Hey, pizza and my favorite boy all in one afternoon!” His grin shot a burst of adrenaline straight to Ashley’s heart. He said nothing about her being late. “Come in, guys.”

  “Guess what?” Cole skipped over to Landon’s side and looked up, his eyes wide. “We got the cheese kind!”

  “No!” Landon bent at the waist. He couldn’t have looked more surprised if Ed McMahon had stopped by to tell him he’d won a million dollars. “The cheese kind?”

  “Yep.” Cole worked his head up and down. “Wanna eat it now?”

  Landon shifted his gaze to Ashley. “Do we?”

  “No, we do not.” Ashley sent Cole a pointed look. “You just had an apple on the way here.”

  “Okay.” Cole looked past Landon into the house. “Wanna play a game?”

  “Sure. Definitely.” In a graceful motion, Landon spun around on his crutches and headed toward the living room. His house was small and simple, in an older neighborhood not far from the university. Something about it made Ashley feel safe. Or maybe it was Landon who made her feel that way.

  Landon grabbed a deck of Uno cards, eased himself onto the sofa, and patted his knee. “Be my partner, okay?”

  “Yippee!” Cole ran toward Landon.

  “Watch it, buddy.” Ashley winced. “He’s got a hurt leg, remember?”

  “I know.” Cole climbed onto Landon’s lap and settled against his chest. “I was careful.”

  The card game got under way, but Ashley had trouble concentrating. She kept sneaking glances over the top of her cards, watching the way Landon brought his face alongside Cole’s as they discussed which card to play. He was the most patient man she knew. She wanted to set up her easel and re-create on canvas the image they made together. Man and boy—her son in the arms of a young man who loved him. The type of moment that had happened only a handful of times in Cole’s life—and most of them in the past month.

  Watching Cole and Landon together did unfamiliar things to Ashley’s heart, things she didn’t understand. There were moments when she wanted to join them on the sofa and beg Landon to stay, to promise him that her heart would figure out a way to care for him as more than a friend. But there were also flashes of relief in the knowledge that this intimate family scene couldn’t possibly become anything more serious. Not when Landon was leaving in a few months.

  Ashley tried to focus on her cards. But no matter how hard she tried to steer them, her thoughts wouldn’t sail a straight course. Was
it wrong to be here, unfair to Cole and Landon? Maybe it wasn’t wrong; maybe she should talk Landon into never leaving Bloomington.

  Maybe she needed professional help.

  The afternoon moved quickly from Uno to cheese pizza to the tail end of a ball game on television. At seven-thirty, Cole began to yawn.

  “Time to get you home, buddy.” Ashley stood and stretched. Then she caught Landon’s gaze and held it. “Thanks. We had a good time.”

  Landon held out his hand and Ashley took hold of it, helping him to his feet. She passed him his crutches, and he balanced himself, resting his hands on Cole’s shoulders. “Come back next week, okay, little guy?”

  Cole beamed. “Next time I’ll bring my baseball cards.”

  “Great.” Landon high-fived Cole. “Maybe we can trade.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I’ve got great cards.”

  “Cool.” He hugged Landon’s long legs and darted toward the front door. He dropped to the floor and began working his sandals back on his feet.

  Ashley looked at Landon and shrugged. “It’s all I can do to keep up.”

  “Tell me about it.” Landon grinned. “Hey . . .” He checked his watch. “Do you think your parents would take Cole tonight?”

  Ashley’s resolve flapped in the wind. Her times with Landon had been safely platonic in the company of Cole. But this invitation to come back without him was something new. “Tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Landon’s voice was careful, casual. It kept Ashley at ease. “We could watch a video or play another round of Uno.” He pointed his shoulder toward the kitchen and gave her a crooked smile. “I have leftover pizza.”

  “True.” Ashley laughed. She searched her list of reasons and couldn’t find a single one that would justify saying no, especially when the idea sounded so appealing. “Actually, my parents are home tonight. They’d probably be happy to watch him.” She gazed at her son, still struggling with his second shoe, and gave a small smirk. “Why not? He practically lives there anyway. Sometimes I think that’s his real home and I’m just the baby-sitter.”

  He chose not to respond to the hurt in her voice. “So you’ll come?”

  “Okay. But no cops and robbers, all right?”

  “All right.” Landon grinned as he hobbled along next to her toward the front door.

  “Okay.” She took hold of Cole’s hand and waved. “See you in a bit.”

  “Yeah. See ya.”

  An hour later she was back in Landon’s driveway. She had been right about her parents. They loved spending time with Cole. In some ways they were the family her son didn’t have. Of course, Ashley’s brother would never see it that way. Luke thought Ashley took advantage of their parents. Sometimes Ashley wondered if he was right. She had never been sure she loved Cole the way she should. And some days Ashley could feel Cole’s distance, as though the child could sense her uncertainty, her ambivalence at being a mother. Her uncertainty about love of any kind.

  She put those dark thoughts out of her mind and stared at Landon’s front door. Was his invitation as innocent as it seemed? For a moment she closed her eyes and heard his voice as it had sounded in the hospital that night, days after he’d been hurt. “I’m moving, Ashley. . . . It’ll be Jalen and me, fighting fires and saving lives right there in the heart of New York City.”

  No, she was sure Landon had no ulterior motives tonight. They were simply two old friends who’d rather pass the time together than alone. She glanced at the rearview mirror and ran her fingers through the roots of her hair.

  When she climbed out of the car, she left a hint of jasmine behind her.

  * * *

  Despite his broken leg, Landon wasted no time moving his crutches across the living-room floor at the sound of Ashley’s car in the driveway. For an hour, he’d been doubting the wisdom of asking her over. What was he hoping to achieve, really? They were enjoying their time together these past weeks, but Ashley was his friend. Nothing more.

  That night in the hospital she’d made her feelings painfully clear.

  Since then he’d worked to accept the way she felt about him. Ashley was right. The two of them could never love each other the way Landon had wanted. She wasn’t someone he could marry or spend his life with.

  He wanted a woman who shared his faith, his feelings. His future. Someone who would be his other half—not perfect, but perfectly in love with him. And that was more than Ashley could give. More than she was capable of giving. After so many years, Landon finally understood that. Somehow, someday, God would bring the right woman into his life, and these years of loving Ashley would fade into boyhood memories.

  Wouldn’t they?

  After all, he was on the brink of a whole new season in his life, a change that might take him away from Bloomington forever. A change Landon embraced fully.

  But then why had he invited Ashley back tonight?

  Landon opened the door and took in the sight of her, beautiful and breathless on his front step. The smile in her eyes was as familiar as his own name.

  Why, indeed.

  “You made it.”

  “Grandma and Papa were thrilled.” Ashley stepped inside and tossed a grin over her shoulder. “Besides, my bookcase doesn’t need cleaning till next week.”

  He hobbled across the living room while she detoured into the kitchen. “Want some water?”

  “That’d be great.” Landon maneuvered to the sofa, laid his crutches on the floor, and eased himself down, mindful of the bandages on his back. “I should be waiting on you.”

  “Well . . .” Ashley rounded the corner, carrying two tall glasses of ice water. “When the cast’s off, you can make it up to me.” She set the drinks down on a magazine and flopped down beside him. “Deal?”

  “Deal.” The corners of his lips stopped short of a full smile. Once his cast was off, he’d be working and getting ready for the move. There’d be little if any time for Ashley and him to share moments like this.

  “Hey.” Ashley tilted her face. Her deep blue eyes shone with sincerity. “Thanks for playing with Cole.” She leaned her head back against the sofa cushion and stared at the ceiling. “He loves coming here.”

  For a moment Landon wanted to shout at her, Can’t you see it, Ashley? You and me and Cole—we belong together. Instead, he worked his face into a smile and chuckled. Play it straight, Landon. Play it straight. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  Suddenly he understood why he’d invited Ashley back tonight, why the words had spilled from his heart. A Scripture verse he’d learned as a boy came back to him: Out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.

  His mouth had uttered the words of invitation for one reason alone: No matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, and despite his best intentions to move on with life, his heart still overflowed with feelings for a wide-eyed dreamer who danced to her own music. A girl who stirred his emotions and made him feel whole and alive.

  A girl named Ashley Baxter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The evening passed in a blur.

  Ashley and Landon were talking about Sunset Hills again, about Irvel and Edith and Helen and the others. Country videos played on TV, but they hadn’t gotten around to watching a movie since Ashley arrived. She was glad. It was more fun talking.

  “So he circles the bed all day?” Landon leaned against the arm of the sofa so he could face her and take some of the pressure off the burns on his back. “I don’t get it.”

  “That’s the problem.” Ashley anchored her elbows on her knees. She laced her fingers together and let her chin rest on top. “No one gets it. Poor Bert stays up there in his room rubbing circles into his comforter all day, and meanwhile his family is too upset to visit.”

  “I can see why.” Landon cocked his head. His eyes shone like sunbeams in a watercolor. He raised his hand and began making small circles in the air. “Course, if I make circles all day when I’m older, you’ll come and visit me, right, Ash?”

>   She laughed. “Right, Bert.”

  “I’ll bet the old guy has his reasons.”

  “I know.” Ashley sat back again. “If only I could find out what they are.”

  “Maybe if he looked up for a minute and saw you, he’d stop circling.”

  Ashley dropped her chin. “I don’t get it.”

  “You know, if he actually looked at you.” Landon stifled a grin.

  “How would that make him—”

  “Stop!” Landon’s eyes were suddenly wide, his tone awestruck.

  “What?” Ashley glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t do that to me, Landon. You scared me.”

  “I’m sorry.” He moved an inch closer, reaching his hand out toward her face. “But my goodness, dear. You have the most beautiful hair.” He fanned his fingers through her short-cropped bangs. Then his eyes found hers. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Realization dawned, and Ashley could feel the grin break across her face. “Very funny.” She grabbed the sofa pillow beside her and in one swift motion whacked Landon over the head with it.

  “Hey, not fair.” Landon waved his arms to defend himself. “I’m crippled, remember?”

  Ashley leaned forward, pillow in hand, poised for another attack. “All Bert needs is a look at my hair, is that it?”

  “Well”—again Landon threw his hands up in surrender—“Irvel seems to think so.”

  “That’s it.” Ashley got up on her knees and closed the distance between them. She held the pillow over him and hit his flailing arms three times before he caught both her wrists with one hand.

  “Okay, you asked for it.” They were facing each other, and he began tickling her, poking her in the ribs while she fought to break free.

  “Help!” She laughed so hard her words were impossible to understand. “I . . . I can’t . . . breathe.”

  It was true. But it wasn’t merely Landon’s tickling that made breathing difficult. There was something else, a feeling she’d never had before around Landon Blake. Something about his nearness, the touch of his hands, his body brushing against hers as they played. She could feel her cheeks growing hot. Why am I here? Why are we doing this? What’s going on?