Free Driftwood Lane by Denise Hunter Page B

toward the pharmacy.
    “Where are you going?”
    “Pharmacy.”
    “You don’t have to do that. We’ve kept you out late enough.”
    “He’ll need the pain meds in the morning.” Jake turned on the heat. Meridith was probably cold in that short-sleeved sweater.
    While they waited for the prescription, she called home and checked on the kids again. He could tell from her end that the guests had arrived and retired to their room.
    She was still on the phone with her friend when he pulled out of the pharmacy parking lot. “No,” she was saying. “You go on home.
    We’ll be there in a matter of minutes . . . Did he ask me to return his call?”
    Lover Boy must’ve called. Jake eased around a corner, then flipped off the heat.
    Meridith closed her phone.
    “Your friend headed home?”
    “Yes. Her daughter needs help with math.”
    As silence settled around them, he reviewed the evening for the dozenth time, remembering the grimace on Meridith’s face when Ben had fallen, the worry lines etched across her forehead. If he’d doubted she cared about the kids, those doubts had faded. Maybe she went about it wrong, but there’d been no mistaking her concern.
    All that time in the waiting room had given him too much time to think. She seemed far too normal to be bipolar. Some quirks, sure, but nothing dangerous or crazy. But, he reminded himself, a person with bipolar disorder could have frequent and extended periods of normality between the depressed and manic phases. He had to remember that. Couldn’t let those sea-green eyes beguile him.
    “Thanks for the ride. That was above and beyond.”
    “Wanted to be sure the little man was okay. My fault anyway.” He’d be more careful in the future. No ladders left standing, no nail guns left on.
    “I shouldn’t have said that.”
    “Shouldn’t have left the ladder up.”
    “Let’s just call it an accident. The doctor said it was a minor break. Should heal in three to four weeks.”
    Ben shifted, heaved a deep sigh, then settled.
    “Just glad he’s not in pain anymore. He’ll have fun drawing pictures on the cast, getting autographs. When the itching starts, tell him to use a blow drier set on cool to blow air inside it.”
    “You’ve broken an arm?”
    “And a leg and a wrist.”
    “Oh my. You must’ve been a handful.”
    He chuckled. “And then some.” He had a feeling some of his escapades would shock the stockings right off her. But with the kind of childhood he’d had, he was lucky he wasn’t rotting in jail.
    “Never broke a bone?” he asked.
    She shook her head.
    She’d probably never stepped in a mud puddle, much less broken a bone. The same could probably be said for her anal-retentive fiancé.
    Not fair, Walker. You don’t even know him.
    He glanced at her hand in the darkened cab. The diamond glimmered under a passing streetlamp—an ordinary solitaire diamond. Boring. He’d buy his woman something unique, something that suited her, something different and special. Not that he had a woman.
    “Sit tight,” he said after he pulled into the drive and put the truck in park. He came around and opened Meridith’s door, then eased Ben into his arms. Even with the wet cast, the kid weighed nothing. He was small boned like Eva, but Jake was sure he’d lost weight in the weeks since his parents died.
    The house was quiet and dark except for a lamp in the living room. Meridith set the pharmacy bag on the kitchen island and unlocked the door to the back stairs. Ben slept soundly through it all.
    “That room,” Meridith whispered when they reached the landing, reminding Jake he wasn’t supposed to know the way.
    The moonlight flooded through the sheers, offering a beam of light.
    “Top bunk.” She dashed around him to pull back the covers.
    Jake lifted Ben over the railing and set him down gently, supporting his casted arm.
    Meridith climbed two rungs up the ladder and eased Ben’s Nikes off his feet.
    Jake drew the covers to the boy’s