Susan Mallery

Shelter in a Soldier's Arms


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live on the top floor and sometimes it’s fun to look out at the city or watch when the storms come. And in the summer when it’s hot, we open all the windows, ’cause no one can climb in when we’re up so high.”

      Jeff turned off the engine and shifted to face the little girl. “It’s a house, Maggie,” he told her. “I live here by myself. While you and your mom stay here, I want you to be very comfortable.”

      Maggie’s eyes widened. “It’s just you here? Don’tcha get scared being all alone?”

      Ashley winced. Until this moment she’d never realized that her daughter hadn’t ever lived in a house before. They’d always been in apartments.

      “Sometimes it’s quiet,” Jeff admitted. “But I don’t mind that.”

      He was about to have a couple of days of nonquiet, Ashley thought. Maggie was a sweetheart and very well behaved, but she was a walking noise machine.

      He unfastened his seat belt. “Let’s get you two inside and settled. I’ll bring your bags in later.”

      Ashley nodded. She could feel the weariness settling over her again. Her consciousness through the drive here had taken the last of her reserves. All she wanted was to sleep for the next four or five weeks.

      Jeff climbed out of the car, then opened the rear door to assist Maggie from the vehicle. Ashley trailed after them as they went up the two stairs that led to the main house. Before he opened the door, Jeff punched a long code into a keypad. There was an audible snick as the locking mechanism released. She had a brief thought of armed guards waiting on the other side and chuckled at the image of them walking through metal detectors before entering the living quarters of the house.

      But whatever security measures existed were concealed because all she saw when she stepped inside was space.

      The rooms were huge and sparsely furnished. Jeff showed them the living room, dining room and a study. Only the latter contained any evidence that a person actually lived in the house. The living room had two sofas, a couple of club chairs, along with low tables and a few lamps. But there was nothing personal or decorative. No pictures or photographs on the walls, no magazines, plants or even a pair of shoes marred the solitude. The dining room was the same. A massive table surrounded by chairs. A matching hutch—the glassed-in top of which was empty.

      Cream carpet and pale walls added to the sense of space, as did the floor-to-ceiling windows in both the living room and dining room that offered a view of the lake and the shore beyond. The study was at the rear of the house, looking out on extensive gardens. At least here there were papers on the desk and a few books scattered on the leather sofa across from the fireplace.

      Ashley looked around without saying anything, then followed Jeff into his huge kitchen. She took in the oversized refrigerator, the six-burner stove and the impressive collection of copper pots hanging above the tiled island.

      “You must entertain a lot,” she murmured, not able to imagine such a thing. With someone else maybe, but not Jeff Ritter. He didn’t appear to be the entertaining type.

      “No. It all came with the house.” He motioned to the refrigerator. “I eat out, or at the office. There isn’t much in the way of food. When I get you settled, I’ll take Maggie and go to the grocery store.”

      She wanted to protest. Surely there was enough for them to get by until she was feeling better. She didn’t want to impose. Impulsively she opened the refrigerator, about to make that point. However, the point went unmade.

      The interior of the gleaming metal refrigerator was empty. Not just echoing with the stereotypical bachelor fare of beer and condiments. It was as empty as a showroom model. Ashley swallowed, then moved to the pantry. Those shelves were neatly papered and just as bare.

      Jeff cleared his throat. “Like I said, I don’t eat here much.”

      “Ever,” she corrected. “How can you not have coffee?”

      Instead of answering, he indicated that they should follow him toward the staircase at the rear of the house. On the landing it split in two directions. He took the stairs on the right.

      “This is the guest wing,” he said. “The two bedrooms share a bathroom.”

      He opened doors, leading the way to well-furnished bedrooms, one larger than the other. The bathroom setup gave them each a vanity and mirror, while they shared the toilet and bath. Maggie hurried to the window seat in the smaller room and knelt on the yellow cushion.

      “I like this,” she said, holding her stuffed cat close to her chest and smiling. “I can see the water.”

      “Good.”

      Ashley hoped her voice sounded pleased. She was having trouble forming the words as her strength faded. She made her way back into the larger of the two rooms. As it had been downstairs, the furniture was exactly right but there were no homey touches. The walls were blank, as were the surfaces of the dresser and nightstands, except for a clock radio silently illuminating the time.

      Ashley found she didn’t care about decorating or empty refrigerators. Exhaustion descended with no warning, sucking up the last of her strength, leaving her shaking and breathless.

      Jeff seemed to figure out her problem. Without saying anything, he drew back the covers on the bed and urged her to sit on the clean sheet.

      “You need sleep,” he said, reaching for her shoes and tugging them off. “I’ll take care of Maggie. Just rest.”

      She started to protest. She had to give her daughter instructions to be good, to listen to Jeff and to come running to her if she was afraid. Even as she stretched out on the bed she thought it might be a good idea to stay awake for a while to make sure everything was all right here in the beautiful house on the hill. She ought to—

      Jeff watched Ashley fight against exhaustion. Slowly her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

      “We’ll be going out for food,” he murmured as she drifted off to sleep. “We’ll be back soon.”

      She didn’t respond. Maggie bounced into the room, her mouth open to speak. She stopped when she saw her mother asleep, pressing her lips together and then looking at him.

      He walked to the door and motioned for her to follow. When they were out in the hall, he stared down at her, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Food, he thought. They had to get food. He hesitated, not sure if he’d ever gone grocery shopping before. As he’d told Ashley, he ate all his meals at restaurants, or at work. It’s not that he didn’t know how to keep food in the house, he simply didn’t bother. Despite the furniture in the rooms and his clothes in his bedroom closet, this wasn’t his home. It was a place to sleep and work after hours. Nothing more.

      “We’re going shopping,” he announced. “The grocery store.”

      Maggie hesitated before nodding her agreement. She looked so small standing there in her pink jeans and pink-and-white plaid knit sweater. Two tiny clips held her dark curls off her face. Her Cupid’s bow mouth quivered slightly.

      Not knowing what else to do, Jeff crouched in front of the child. “You know your mom is sick, right?”

      “Uh-huh.” Her grip on the battered stuffed cat tightened.

      “She has the flu. Do you know what that is?”

      “It’s what I had last week. I was very sick and I got to watch TV in Mommy’s bed and eat Jell-O whenever I wanted.”

      Was that kid paradise? He didn’t know. “But you’re better now, right?”

      Another nod.

      “So you know your mom is going to be fine in a few days. I don’t want you to worry about her.”

      Maggie gave him an impish smile. “I know you’ll take care of her.”

      He hadn’t thought about his responsibility in quite those terms, but if it made the kid happy to